Right vs. Easy

Same old, same old. And I mean that in the best possible way...

2011-04-29T17:15:00.002-04:00

Nope, I don't update too frequently. Very busy with work and life. Plus, really... all is well. How exciting is that? Our son turned five in early April and will be starting Kindergarten in September. He's bright and precocious, although can be lazy. It still drives me crazy that he doesn't do what I ask him to WHEN I ask him to do it. I'm not sure if that's an age thing, a boy thing, an Aries thing, or all combined...but he's a good boy. He's very healthy, for which we are exceedingly grateful every day.

Finally, after nearly TWO YEARS he's back to a better sleeping routine! We can now put him to bed in his bed, awake and say good night. He has returned to sleeping through the night. When he does wake up, usually for some water, he'll go back to bed without much ado. What sheer bliss! Wow, that's nice. :)

Life is a constant adjustment, as Bee grows and develops from a toddler to preschooler, from a baby to little boy to big boy. He's long and lean, so his pants often wind up short long before he outgrows the waistband. He's funny and all boy - he loves his action figures, super heroes and sports. He's good with girls, though and usually gentle with them, although sometimes he needs reminding. He's fascinated by the body. He was assigned to represent the letter "S" in his Nursery School Parade. We thought, surely he'll be Superman - he has a big red "S" on his chest! (And we have a Superman costume rather handy). However, Bee chose to be a skeleton instead. He has skeleton pajamas, but, since his dad and I work with bones and anatomy a great deal in our line of work, we didn't want him to feel he had to choose this. We suggested other options - spider, Spider-man, sun, Superman... No, he really wanted to be a skeleton! He also pointed out some "s" bones - skull, scapula, scaphoid, sacrum. Okay, yes, technically the skull is comprised up of many bones, but it sufficed for Nursery School. All went well ans I actually remembered to record it on video.

We get to see our extended family once a year at Christmastime. Bee has a cousin who is now 19 months! We stay connected on the FB, and need to S*kype more often, but we all do what we can with our schedules. My cousin who donated her eggs to get Bee here is well. She graduated and is now a practitioner in her field, owning her own home and paying off her student loans. She was kind enough to call and wish Bee a happy birthday, and we did the same on her day (they're both born in the same month). We wonder at which age it would be best to tell him the story of how he got here. He's seen the ultrasound pictures, from the two transferred embryos to right before he was born and he's fascinated. We want to disclose at a good stage of his emotional development, not too early that he can't understand it, but not too old that he'll wonder why we waited so long. If anyone has some suggestions, I'd be grateful. I don't think anyone actually reads this anymore, but I'm throwing it out there!

Be well, everyone and Happy Spring. May you all find your happiness in life.

Where's Bee? He left? Where did he go?

2010-08-18T15:19:00.002-04:00

I am very blessed to be able to go to the gym during the week in the early morning while my dearest husband and angelic son remain blissfully asleep. On good days. On great days, when I return, I can hear my son playing quietly in our room while Mr. Right tries deperately to get a few more winks in. When Bee hears me come home, I can hear him tell his father: "Tell her I left! Tell her I drove off in my car!" [giggle giggle snort]

I enter our bedroom to see Mr. Right, sleepy in bed and smiling, along with a slightly moving large lump under the covers.

"Where's Bee?" I ask knowingly.

"Oh, I don't know. He got in his car and drove off. I think he went to one of his girlfriends'."
[giggle giggle giggle]

"Hmmmm. You mean his Pooh car? He won't get very far in that."
[muffled: "I went to get coffee! glug glug glug!"]

"Hey, that sounded like Bee!" I peek under the covers to his laughter.

"No! I left! Don't spill my coffee!"

We play this game, one of my favorites, and it never fails to crack me up or get me in a great mood for the rest of the day.

Covered in... I beg your pardon?

2010-01-09T15:22:00.002-05:00

Well! Happy New Year to you all, hopefully this year will bring good things to those of you working so hard for them. I keep my fingers (and toes) crossed for everyone.

We had a lovely, relaxing Christmas and New Years with our favorite family out west and have now hit the ground running with work. In fact, I'm in the office n a Saturday and should be working, but I thought I'd interject with this little anecdote from June of 2009 before it goes down the memory hole.

--------

Scene: Mr. Right and I in our bathroom, getting ready to turn in for the night. This has been the third day of potty training our 3 year old son.

Me: "Ugh, I was covered in pee before."
Mr. R: "Oooh, kinky."

I look at Mr. Right as if to say, Oh, yes, I just love being covered in our son's pee.

Mr. R: "Yeah, I know. Not the kind of covered-in-pee you'd want."

-pause. We both burst out laughing.

Me: "You mean, there's a "covered-in-pee" you would want?"
Mr. R: "No, but I thought it was funny!"

Aaaaaaaaaand scene.

Bee actually did very well with potty training, so it all worked out for the best. Any stories of your own? Please share!

Oh, for crying out loud...

2009-11-17T13:25:00.002-05:00

Well! It would appear that 13 MONTHS have past since my last post. I have managed to keep up with most of your blogs through Bloglines (boy, somebody was thinking!) What have I been doing all this time? Working! And after that, I try to make dinner, spend some time with the Bee before his bedtime. If I'm lucky, I'm awake enough to chill and watch a little entertainment before I fall asleep. Because I usually get up at 5:30 - 6 am to go work out. And the day starts all over!

So - I'm busy. I know y'all get it. Bee is 3.5 years old, very active, lean, muscular, loquacious, bright, funny and defiant. He's sweet and compassionate, but also protective. Saturday I had to talk to Mr. Right, who was lying on the couch with a chest cold watching a movie with the Bee. Bee flung his arm across his father and scolded me: "You don't talk to my friend Daddy that way!" He practically growled!! First of all, I never speak rudely to my husband. Ever. It's just funny that this little boy picked up on me talking to the Man and interrupting his movie time! Sometimes he "defends" me too, although none of us ever need defending. The boy is fierce! And did I mention chatty? That's what his nursery school teacher told me on his first day. He cried when we dropped him off, practically sprinted to the door, but the teacher scooped him up and distracted him. They called later to say he was upset for the first five minutes, then became really interested in the opening activities. "He's having a great time and he's very chatty!" We thought that was funny, because I thought, oh lady, you have no idea. He's very clear and talks up a storm. Knows all his colors. Only seems to know the letter "s", but we know he'll pick up the rest soon enough. We LOVE his nursery school. He goes 2 days a week for 2.5 hours in the afternoons. The teachers are wonderful, the classroom is adorable and we're really thrilled. He loves it too. It took a couple of weeks, but know when we drop him off, there's no more anxiety. He can't wait to talk to his teachers and make things. He knows that we will always come to pick him up "when the work is done."

Work is good, but we had to let our last person go, which really sucked. She was a sweet girl who did a great job, but we had been terribly slow snce last November, and couldn't justify another person. So, it's just me and Mr. Right. Of course, 1 month after she was let go, business picked up and we've been busy ever since. We're busy enough for two, but not for three. So we're doing okay, especially since our overhead is now lower.

I like being a working mom, but gee it's tiring! That's why I've made friends with my slow cooker. That's the one wedding gift that keeps on giving! We've decided that we would like another child, but we'll have to wait. I don't think we're going to ask my cousin to donate, since she has now graduated and is working in her field. She's busy, and donating is a lot to do in a month that's far from where she lives. She bought a house and is doing great - we're so proud of her! We'll see her again at Christmas when we go to my aunt's for Christmas and New Year's. We're trying to make that a yearly tradition. We have such a wonderful time being part of a family! Plus my cousin J got married and had a son earlier this year so we'll be able to meet the baby. Bee's very first cousin! He's very excited.

We're nearly out of credit card debt, so then we can start saving. I guess the only option is IVF/PGD with my eggs, but I'm not terribly optimistic. They're not like cheese or wine; age is not their friend and I just turned 39. I saw a psychic who said I have one more baby coming - a girl, who will be healthy. So either we go through IVF or I miraculously become pregnant with a singleton, intrauterine pregnancy despite my tubal ligation. But I suppose stranger things have happened. I have put it God's hands. If it's meant to be, it will. It's a LOT easier to take this approach since we already have a happy, well-adjusted child in our lives. I will be fine if it doesn't work out, but I'll know that somewhere "up there" Amelie will be about. Supposed to be with us, but waiting. Ah well.

And now, I've got to get back to work. I've got deadlines to meet and a son to pick from school soon, waiting to show me the neat things he made during the day. I'm happy, healthy and blessed. I'm married to my best friend, working in a career I love with lots of work to keep us busy, and a home of our own. We've got some great family and good friends. Life is good.

How about you? And can anyone recommend a great slow cooker? I want to get one for my cousin as a housewarming gift. I'd love to hear about your opinions in the comments. Thank you! Have a pleasant day ;)

My, My... How Time Does Fly...

2008-10-03T16:37:00.003-04:00

I had all these wonderful intentions to update regularly, and now it's October. Good Lord, time does fly. As a kid, it seemed like time would drag on and on, waiting for a birthday, Christmas, Halloween.... forever. The older I get, time seems to just speed by faster and faster.

Case in point, the Bee is now a two-and-a-half year-old little boy with a personality all his own. Really, the obsession with sports and (soccer, basket, base, foot) balls... Where on EARTH did that come from? Not us! Although he does like Su.perman and Harr.y Potte.r, The Iron Gi.ant and Fin.ding N.emo. He loves to run and play with his friends and we can have actual conversations with him. "Mom? I like this blanket. I think it's better for me." Well, okay! You can use that blanket, then. Cutie.

Here's an exchange from today:

"Mommy! There's a man sitting in a chair. Come see! Let me show you, Mom." As Bee was pointing to our living room, I was wondering if this was an imaginary man, or perhaps my brother or...

Bee points to our DVD collection, where Mr. Right has action figures set up near the films they represent. In front of The Ma.trix, we have Morpheus sitting in a chair, next to a small table with a telephone. This is the man in question. I'm a bit relieved.

"See, Mommy? There's a telephone! I want to touch it..." I guide him away from the action figure, as we've taught him that this is Daddy's Museum, and Not For Touching. Of course, after I leave the room, he opens the glass case and takes the telephone anyway.

"Mommy! Look! I have a telephone!" I thank him, put it back where it belongs and take him out of the room, which is the consequence for touching the things in Daddy's Museum he's not supposed to. He puts up a bit of a fight, and in a couple of minutes, he's fine and excited about his Opah coming over to play.

He's in a big-boy bed now, which is really taking some adjustment on our part. Sometimes at night he'll get out of bed, just to see "What's going on?" This is usually right after we've put him in for the night. Or it's "I want the other one pillow." Or "I want blanket on/off me." He's getting up less in the middle of the night since we've started using a night light in the hallway and leave his door open all night. He does get up early, however. Well, early for us: 6:00 or 7:00 a.m. In his crib, he'd wake up early but play by himself until we'd go in to get him, around 8:00 am. We're trying to teach him that when he gets up he can play quietly by himself until we get up, although he usually comes in to check on us about 7:00 a.m. It's hard to be upset with his smiling, beautiful face saying "Good morning! I love you, Mommy/Daddy!" Really, how can you get mad at that? And that's even considering my husband and I used to be morning people, as far as intimacy is concerned. We've had to change to the evening shift, which is, again, a big adjustment. But kind of exciting.... I mean, if I'm awake enough, we could get together anytime! Which means I'm needing to shave more than once a week. After all this time, I find I need to be on my toes. Now there's an exciting consequence I hadn't considered before... I love mommyhood!

Four for...

2008-06-26T13:08:00.003-04:00

She lives!

Ooooh, my first meme! I have been tagged by Snickollet (basically) and in lieu of an update post which I swear is coming (essentailly we're fine, Bee's growing and talking), I thought I'd start with this to get things going again. Yeesh, those blogging joints are achey. Five months?! Good Lord!

Four Jobs I Have Held
1. Stable hand
2. Pizza maker
3. Phlebotomist
4. Illustrator/Project Manager

Four Movies I Could Watch Over and Over
1. Raiders of the Lost Ark
2. Aliens
3. The Man Who Knew Too Little
4. Sliding Doors

Four Places I Have Lived
1. Long Island, NY
2. Rochester, NY
3. Atlanta, GA
4. Central NJ

Four TV Shows I Like
1. Battlestar Gallactica
2. Dr. Who
3. Lost
4. Smallville

Four Favorite Foods
1. Chocolate
2. Palak paneer
3. Cherries
4. Filet mignon, medium rare

Four Places I Would Rather Be
1. With Mr. Right and the Bee, just about anywhere fun
2. Visiting our family in Albuquerque
3. Sorrento, Italy
4. Atlanta, GA

Four People I'm Tagging
1. You,
2. You,
3. You and...
4. You

In grade school, I was always picked last for sports (on account of being 'corroded'), so I like these things where "anyone" can be picked. If you'd like to do one, I'd love to read your answers!

Ugh, shame on me for taking such a long time to post... I'll be back with more soon. Thank you, Clover, for reminding me...

Family

2008-01-13T16:38:00.000-05:00

There's a saying: You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your family. I don't think this is precisely true. My personal belief is that your soul does pick your parents. If your parents are abusive or assholian towards you, their children, this is not your fault - it is the free will of the parents. They are not supposed to be abusive or cruel; they are likely in a situation where they are supposed to resist violence. If they don't, they'll have to deal with this conflict in the next lifetime. Or the next. Hopefully parents are kind, loving and compassionate towards their children. I think everyone can agree on that.

Our parents are who they are, flaws and all. Some of us come from loving homes with kind, nuturing and supportive parents. Some of us come from homes that make the Manson family look like Father Knows Best. I'm sure most of us fall somewhere in between.

The more I think about family, the kind I came from as well as friends' families, the more I've been thinking about the kind of family I want to have. Me, Mr. Right and the Bee. That's our family right there. Mr. Right and I have been talking about this a lot, too. We like the Cleaver kind of family setting, but updated: Happy, productive Dad, nurturing, guiding, firm but loving. Handy around the house and enjoys fixing things: taking things apart and puts them back together, good as new. Happy, domestic Mom, cooking, straightening up (good Lord, who has time to clean! Sucontract that job out!), working nearly full-time, takes time to play and read with the kids. A firm, loving teacher who also knows that putting her needs first is not only important but essential. Once your own needs are met, you can happily see to the needs of everyone else. I learned from my own mother what not to do: putting everone else first, thereby creating deep seated resentment for everyone in your family which you then use as amunition in any argument. ("I ALWAYS put you kids first!" shrieked while squinting eyes and clenching teeth). Happy joy.

We spent Christmas Eve at my In-Laws, as we do each year. It was a little cold, and they seemed so high strung with the Bee, now 21 months, running around. "No! Come here! Don't touch that! Here! Come here! Sit with Omie! No! Sit!" Yeagh! The tension! When we left, Mr. Right let loose what had been bothering him about the visit.

"My father barely said two words to me! He was so cold and distant - he's always been moody. Yet he hovers over the Bee like a sticky shadow! And what was with them freaking out over everything Bee did? Clam down. Give the kid some room already! And you know what? You are absolutely right to wait to eat until everyone is seated and has been served. Absolutely right! It's just common courtesy! They never wait! They're like scavengers! Would it kill them to wait and start the meal together like a family?!"

Mr. Right grew up in a household fraught with tension and anxiety; screaming matches were the norm, usually lasting 4 or 5 days out of the week. His dad would be gone for days at a time, and his mother would endlessly complain about his "usless" father. Not somethign a boy needs to hear growing up.

I grew up in what I thought was a normal household. I didn't find out until later that it wasn't normal for your mother to tell you she wanted to kill herself all the time. My father didn't really know how to be a dad, but he learned. He was loving and at the same time, not amused by the usual-kid antics my brother and I pulled off. "I fail to see the humor," was his favorite refrain we heard most often. But he also went to my father-daughter dance my junior year in high school when he was sick as a dog with a fever. At least he keeps learning adn getting better.

We can't control the kinds of families we came from, but we can create the family life we want to have. For example, we have dinner every night as a family. Either Mr. Right or I cook (depending on our schedules), we sit down together, say grace, and enjoy conversaion over dinner. Obviously, we don't expect the Bee to wait to start eating, especially if we get started a little later, but he holds our hands as we say grace and says "Okay!" after the amen. We were not really a say-grace-before-dinner family before, but it seems like such a nice way to start the meal. And, of course, to give thanks for the food we are about to eat.

Bee sees common pleasantries exchanged between his parents on a daily basis... Please and thank-yous have always been said, we laugh a lot and genuinely enjoy each other's company. Our household is relaxed and easy going. We're affectionate, hugging and kissing frequently. The only time we have the television is when we're watching something with Bee, or put something on to accomplish a task (Findi.ng Nem.o, Rata.touille, Toy Sto.ry and the like).

I do wish I could be home with Bee more often, but I need to work. As in, we couldn't afford to hire someone for the work I do. Unless, of course, Mr. Right did all my work, too, in which case he would never see Bee and we would be two ships passing in the night. Naturally, this is not acceptable to either of us, so we are truly fortunate to have Mr. Right's dad watch Bee during the day. He's not ideal, but he's far from a bad choice and we have to work with what we have.

Naptime has really straightened itself out, by the way. As of my typing these words right here, he has been sleeping for 1 hour and 22 minutes. I put him in his crib, when he said "Stay," I said I would certainly stay for a while. I put his little blanket over him as he got into his favorite position, perpendicular at the top of the crib. I sat down on the floor next to him and told how how much I loved him, how happy we were that he choose us and was a part of our family. Within five minutes his little thumb started to slide out of his mouth. I got up, put the monitoron and left the room with the door open just a crack. 1 hour 28 minutes; not bad. I know my in-laws do the exact same thing, so it really works out. That's a huge relief for me.

Gotta run- Bee is up from his nap: 1 hour, 35 minutes. I'll take it! I hope you all are well. Good afternoon, good evening, and good night.

Okay! So, about the naptime issues...

2007-11-26T17:39:00.000-05:00

I didn't mean for there to be such a delay in posts, but I kept waiting it out to see if there was any kinds of discernable pattern to the Bee's napping. Know what I discovered? He's all over the place.

It turned out that my FIL was sleeping on the floor in Bee's room, so we had to remind him not to. Now FIL will "settle" him (pats his back, whispers sweet nothings until Bee falls asleep) then goes and hangs out on the couch until Bee wakes up. Can't change that.

When my FIL puts Bee down for a nap, he'll sleep about 2 to 2.5 hours. When I put him down for a nap, he'll sleep 30 - 40 minutes. If he's in the car, he might sleep for 20 min to a little over an hour.

So that's the way it is. I can't change my FIL, I can't really get him to change; I'll just have to deal with Bee getting shorter naps when he's with me. This doesn't thrill me, but I don't see a way around it at this point.

And, BTW, you all totally rock for your responses and advice. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your words of wisdom and/or comiseration! You are all fabulous - I love you, internets.

Next! Weight loss! I'm jumping on the bandwagon. I have a good 20 pounds I've been carying aruond for waaaaaay too long and I'd like to ditch it. Lots of other fabulous ladies are also trying to get healthier: Manuela, Rebecca, ...oh God, I know there are more. Let me know if I've forgotten you - I'm sorry, my mind is a sieve these days.**

Anyhoo, I started working out again in the spring, finally getting back to the gym five days a week (Monday through Friday). I jog on the treadmill at the Y on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, then hit the stairmaster or elliptical trainer on Tuesday and Thursday. The scale at the gym is a little iffy, but I always seem to weigh between 149 and 153.

I've always had this theory that if I stopped eating sweets, I'd drop weight like that (snaps fingers smartly).

So I did. I stopped eating sweets. Totally. Made a pack wth Mr. Right and everything. And found out my theory was utter bullocks. Didn't drop weight like that. shhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiit.

Then I went to the OB for my annual to discover that my weight was actually 154. Not 150, like it said on the gym scale. The only upside to this is I'm down from 160 the previous year, so I've got that going for me, which is nice.

As far as the jogging is going, I've gotten as far as 5.25 miles, and I can go at a rate of 5.8 on the treadmill (no outside jogging for me, I need to see STATS! I must have the number flashing in red in front of me! How far am I going?! How many calories am I burning (approximately)?! How fast am I going?! I haven't gone farther than 5.25 only due to time constraints. The darned Y in my town doesn't open until 6 frickin' 30 in the morning, and I've got to get back by about 7:30 so I can stretch and jump in the shower before we get the Bee up for the day. So I'm working on it. But I feel much better and have more energy.

Still curbing the sweets, but I'm really concentrating on my goal weight of 135. That would be spectacular! Just keep focusing....

So! Anyone else I'm missing on the weight/exercise quest? We could have a little online support system here! Just let me know!

**UPDATED to include Liv, who shounds like she's doing great on the health overhaul. Yay!

Naptime Help Needed...

2007-09-26T14:06:00.000-04:00

I implore all you moms out there to read this and offer your opinions and/or advice. I have an issue I need help with and I'm really at a loss at what to do (or if I even need to do anything at all).

The issue is the Bees naps. He naps in the afternoon, for about 2 hours. Sometimes he'll wake up after 40 minutes, make a little noise and go back to sleep by himself. Sometimes he'll make a lot of noise and that will be it for naptime for the day. The naps themselves are not a problem. He's getting plenty of sleep (10 - 12 hours at night, and then the 40min up to 3 hour nap during the day).

My dilema is this: As much as I have told my FIL (who watches Bee during the day while I work), that Bee needs to soothe himself and take naps on his own (which he does on weekends), he persists in lying down on the floor next to his crib and keeping him company (sometimes with his hand through the bars on the Bee). Then when Bee falls asleep, he leaves the room. Bee will nap about 2 hours this way. In the past when I've spoken to him about this he'll change his ways, and then go back to his way after about two weeks. It drives me absolutely mad.

I don't want Bee to grow dependent on having a "napping buddy" but I ask you: Is this harmful? Is this something I'm just being overly nitpicky about or is it something I need to stop? Why ingrain a habit we're only going to have to break later on, when perhaps it might be more difficult? I'm fortunate in the sense that I work right below where I live, so going into my home isn't a problem. It does interrupt my working day, but I'll do whatever it takes to do right by the Bee. I know my FIL loves my son dearly, but the man cannot bear to hear him cry, not for one minute.

Please, I'm begging you guys, what do you think? I'd sincerely appreciate your thoughts on this matter. Thank you in advance.

P.S.: I've got a taker for the formula. Thanks, DD for your response. :)

Anyone Need Some Formula?

2007-09-13T16:04:00.000-04:00

In the midst of physical cleaning, I was holding onto some Enfa*mil L*ipil formula, but I realize now I will never use it before it expires (powder unopened expires July '08 and I've got an 8 oz can that expires 10/10/07). Plus, I've got an unopened sample box of the next step formula, from 9-24 mos. The Bee is well on his way, enjoying whole milk and I'd hate to see it go to waste.

Could anyone use this? Leave a comment or e-mail me at right.v.easy at gmail dot com. I'd love to help someone out!

Spring Cleaning

2007-08-21T10:38:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know it's August! Due to a comment on my previous post, I've removed all the pictures from my blog, so excuse the flurry of activity, those 19 of you who subscribe on Bloglines. With all that, I thought it was time for a new post anyway. I know, I know - two posts in a month? Be still, your beating hearts! I'll try not to shock you into insensibility.

Amongst the things on my mind is the decision we made, pre-Bee, to never disclose that he was born of a donor egg. The more I've read stories of donor conceived children, as well as other parents who have used donor gametes, this position seemed a little... wrong to me. To keep that information from the Bee, when so many others were privy to it really bothered me. So I discussed this with Mr. Right yesterday and he agreed with me. Thus, officially, we have changed our minds. I discussed this also with my cousin, as she's involved in this as well, and she agrees, too. When Bee is old enough to understand, we'll tell him. I'm going to borrow heavily from the Drowned Girl, because I really like the was she phrases it: Sometimes, doctors have to help a Mommy & Daddy have a baby. Some of Mommys' eggs were bad, so Aunt A gave us some eggs so we could have you. I have to ask her about some of the books she found about explaining donor egg conception to a child... but there you go. I think it would be much better to tell a child growing up that this is the way things are, instead of finding out by accident in his 20's or 30's when it would be a much worse betrayal to come across this information.

By the way, so and visit with Drowned Girl: after a very scary bleeding episode, she finds that she is pregnant with twins! Wowee! Still keeping fingers crossed ;)

Mr. Right and I have also been thinking about adding to our family. We would love to have another child, and I would rather Bee not grow up an only child. (Not that I think there's anything wrong with only children, or with having an only child... we'd just like to try to have another child in our family). I talked to A yesterday to see what her schedule is like next summer, but it seems very iffy. She's in grad school and has a clinical rotation in march for about 8 weeks. Then a break, then summer school with a break before the fall semester starts. Hypothetically we could do it on one of these breaks if it's long enough; she'll find out what the time frame is once school starts up again next week.

One thing we need to take into consideration is planetary influences. I bet you didn't think I was going to say that, did you? After meeting with our astrologer this past weekend, Neptune is in my chart, as well as Jupiter. Apparently, Jupiter loves children, so this fall into next year is an ideal time to get pregnant. As my astrologer said, "I don't care whose eggs you use, but you're going to get eggs from somewhere. This is a very favorable time for pregnancy." With Saturn also in my chart, it's going to be a challenge: nothing sexy or spontaneous about getting pregnant; Saturn loves a science experiment. Good way to sum up IVF, eh? The problem comes in when Uranus enters my chart. Uranus does not like children at all (in Greek mythology, Uranus hated his children with Gaia), and I'd be more prone to miscarry with Uranus, and unlikely I'd get pregnant at all. Uranus enters my chart in spring/summer of 2009, so that would be a good time for a c-section (Uranus=good time for surgery). So these are things we need to think about, too.

Yes, I sure many of you reading this are going to think I'm totally flaky, but I've seen way too many things read true to dismiss as "coincidence." To clarify, astrology is not fate, it's not seeing the future. It's just following a blue print. A home is not a blueprint. It's built with materials of your choosing, and decorated in your own style. Astrology is not about the "how", but it is about the "why". It can explain why you react the way you do in certain situations, why you may click with some but butt heads with others. He gave me some pretty insightful information about my mother. She was born with Uranus in her chart, which reject the maternal. She's not a maternal person. She's attracted to men, but with strange energies. She married my father, who later turned out to be gay. The relationship she had with my brother was not a maternal relationship but co-dependent. She now has formed a new co-dependent relationship with her "second son", an African priest who is very kind, but also very needy. And my mother needs to be needed. She doesn't like women and needs to be in control in every relationship. She has a very "wounded" chart and is in a very miserable place in her life right now. He said it's going to get worse in the spring, so to just be a little nice to her. He added it's okay to have a relationship with her, as there's nothing she can to do me that's too damaging, but it's best to keep it at a distance. There's more, but I've got to get to work.

Hope you all are well and enjoying your day. Thanks to all of you who commented on my last post.

Always On My Mind...

2007-08-13T22:44:00.000-04:00

As I mentioned in my last post, there's a ton of things on my mind. Awake and sleeping, as my dreams lately have centered around abandonment issues of the parental sort. (My parents). These dreams have been aggravating. It's so incredibly nice that I can wake up next to my loving husband with my delightful son sleeping next door.

One thing I've been thinking about for quite a while is this site I came across months ago. I have a section on the bottom right of this blog of sites that link to my site, and I saw this unfamiliar site listed there. Curious, I clicked and was a little taken aback. The vitriol this woman has for reproductive technology is rather disturbing. I can't quite get over the fact that she opines children of gamete donation are raised by strangers, not their "real" parents. That biology is all that matters; love means nothing. Naturally, I take issue with this view point. She terms reproductive technology the "baby trade" and likens babies to slaves. Unless these babies in question are being raised as animals to perform menial tasks for no compensation, I really find this comparison to be a bit extreme. Usually, (I would think) babies resulting from ART are very much wanted and loved, and cherished dearly throughout their lives. I'm sure there are a number of children who are born or adopted only to fulfill a need or emptiness in the parent(s), and wanting to love and rear a child is secondary to the need to be loved. She does link to sites of people born from donor insemination who were terribly unhappy upon discovering they were the result of a sperm donation.

It's a lot of food for thought... I'm curious to hear the thoughts of those of you who would like to explore it. Oh, and she links here and sums up my blog as "woman raising boy conceived by cousin's egg." Yeah, that really encompasses the love the three of us share. It doesn't matter that my blood flowed through his veins, that I nourished him enwombed, that my milk provided him with sustenance and boosted his immune system. It doesn't matter that I chose a practical solution instead of risking passing on an awful disease to a much loved child. That I sacrificed passing on my own DNA. Apparently the only thing that matters, is that my son does not possess half of my DNA. It seems bizarre and naive to break it down so simplistically.

However. However...I do know the truth. I know I'd never be able to explain it to this woman, she'd never get it. Oh, and by the way, best wishes to Drowned Girl, who is pregnant thus far with donor egg FET. Yay! I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you.

So... Your thoughts?

P.S.: Still hoping to hear from anyone who can put me in touch with the Fisher Queen!

Paging The Fisher Queen...

2007-08-08T23:54:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I'm still here, I've just had a ton of thoughts rattling about in my noggin and I've been a baaaaad blogger. I think I'm going to have to break everything down into separate posts... you know, instead of a great big, topic-jumping rambling post. For a change.

Anyhoo, I went to visit the Fisher Queen's site yesterday and she's now on invite only. Does anyone have her e-mail address so I can request permission? I'd appreciate it if someone could e-mail me at right.v.easy at gmail dot com, or leave it in the comments. Thank you!

In my quest to loose 20 pounds this year, I have lost... none. Yep, in eight months, I have lost nada. I hover between 152 and 149. Usually I'm 152. Why? Well, let me put it this way: Mr. Right is currently watching Hallow*een H20 and my first thought was "Mmmm, Hallo*ween... Candy corn!" Yeah, I've got a raging sweet tooth and really crappy will power. I've reduced my goal to 10 pounds, and I'm trying to get to the gym 5 days a week, which I've been doing pretty well. Even though I've only been getting 5.5 to 6 hours of sleep a night. So, that's my cue. Even though I took a little nap while Mr. Right was fixing dinner, I'm wiped and gotta hit the hay. So sweet dreams, be well, and I'll fill you in on more stuff... hopefully tomorrow.

Brought to You by the Letter B

2007-07-03T15:17:00.000-04:00

We interrupt the navel gazing/mummy whining for this news flash:

Bee said his first big word last night: broccoli.

Granted, he pronounced it: dock-a-dee, but we had just said broccoli to him, so we knew what he meant.

Broccoli joins the list of cat, car, hot, go, mama, dada, pa pa, bee, pea, nyeh, bebe (baby), and mimi (we don't know either). And he makes piggie noises for all animals. Not the oink oink kind, actual snorting piggie noises, because we're going for authenticity here. What's funny is that he squeals sometimes, and he sounds exactly like a guinea pig. So we call him that, too.

His 15 month check up yesterday reveled that the Bee weighs 22.2 pounds and measures 31 inches long. He's doing well, walking all over (including mastering walking while drinking from his sippy cup), and mingling at our playgroup. Tomorrow we all get to partake of a picnic with the playgroup families (I'm bringing frut salad. Someone professional is doing fireworks! Whoo-hoo!), so we're really looking forward to that. Especially since it doesn't start until 4:30 pm, so Mr. Right can get in a nearly full day of work. I'll be with the Bee for the next 5 days starting tomorrow, so I'm completely psyched about that. (Ooooooh, please let him nap well...)

Right at this moment I'm listening to the film score for Willo*w by James H*orner, and all I can think is that he puts a particular bar of music in just about EVERY score he writes. This is a private joke between Mr. Right and I. We hear it and point it out: there it is! And we laugh. People look at us as though we are very, very silly. Especially when we wnt to see A Beau*tiful Mind with friends... During the opening credits, I rolled my eyes and whispered to Mr Right: "I can't believe it! It's the same score as Bicentenni*al Man!" They really are very similar. Just a little something for all the film score junk*ies out there (I know, there are so many).

So! That wraps up this brief installment. Up next: Bee and I went for a visit with my mom for a few days. Will update soon!

So.... Now What?

2007-06-11T22:51:00.000-04:00

Okay, so that was the general gist of that whole icky saga. I saw N about a month later at my brother's funeral, and she was sad and sweet, and we did hug. She asked if we were okay and I said yes. Mauela, N didn't apologize in her letter to me, but she had sent an e-mail (the last one of the series) that did apologize. She said that she was so wrong to get involved and attack us the way she did. I have to summarize because Mr. R didn't save that e-mail. Mr. R is still not okay with the whole thing, but I think it's wrong to discount the apology. I really don't mind if Mr.R feels this way; he is, after all, pissed because someone was shitty to me, the person he holds most dear in his life. And you know? It's flattering to have someone look out for you that way. He's like my very own Super*man! Or at very least, my great white moth hunter.

I know I didn't deserve all that crap. I didn't, and it doesn't make it okay that it happened. It just gets so tiring being angry all the time. I don't want to hold onto anger for N - that would keep her front and center in my life and that's not her place. She's essentially a good person, and very passionate. She had been manipulated by my mother (even if she might never realize it), as I had been so many times before. So I can understand it. I'm not excusing what she wrote in her initial e-mail, but I do understand her motivation.

Which brings us to the real culprit here: my mother. Years ago, my therapist asked me why I kept trying to talk to my mother. "You keep trying to tell her what you think, you disagree with what she's saying... she never listens to you... What's the point? She'll never really hear you so why set yourself up for so much aggrivation? Keep it superficial. " I tried that. And you know what happened? My cousin L, who my mother and I are both close with, told me "Your mom said that your relationship with her is so much nicer now! What happened?"

What happened is I kept it light. Oh, I'm not saying this as, like, the solution to all my problems or anything, but I developed a goal a while ago, as to what I wanted from my mother. Want to know what it is? Here goes: I just wanted a civil relationship. A relationship where we weren't at each other's throats all the time. I knew she wasn't going to change so I had to, because I was at least capable of change.

So I stopped communicating. Piece of caake! My next therapist (I moved) asked me if it was hard keeping things from my mother. Oh, no! I replied. Simplicity itself: She never asks questions! Not really all that interested in me. Just my brother. What's really sad is that it truly is her loss: she doesn't know who I am as a person. I gather that she doesn't want to know, otherwise she'd be more interested in trying to find out more about me. (And I mean by asking questions of me). So that's my answer: keep it light, keep it simple. So it's not a real relationship. And that's fine by me, because truly seeing the person my mother is, she's not a person I want to have a REAL relationship with. She bad-mouths everyone, including those who are closest to her, those who have done so much for her over the years. The slightest insult, whether real or imagined, carries the same weight with my mother. It doesn't matter if you've been there for her over the years. Say one thing, the "wrong" thing, and it's all over. She's not a forgiving person. In preparation of our wedding, I got to see the person she really is. And I saw that her love, while she professed otherwise, was indeed conditional. That's not easy to realize, but it gets easier with time and acceptance.

Now, the harder questions... (from Manuela): "I want to ask you the same types of things people have asked me. Why do you want this toxic energy in your life?? Are you sure you want your son exposed to the influence of this woman?? Because as he gets older, he WILL see the dynamic, and I'm sure you don't want him to believe that it's ok to treat people like that!"

I don't want this toxic energy. It's not okay for her to treat me this way, or to expose the Bee to this kind of dynamic. Fortunately (I guess), I can be quite cold. I can keep things superficial and light. If she pulls this kind of crap, I will distance her not only from me, but also from Bee. And as Bee is her only grandchild and she's got pictures of him everywhere, apparently, I doubt that would sit well with her. My guess is that she'll be on her best behavior because I don't think she'll want to jepordize that communication. Because I will not expose my family to this crap.
(What's interesting is that my mother hated my father's mother. My grandmother was always on her best behavior around my mother because she was afraid my mother might keep my dad, my brother and I away from her. What's even more interesting is that my mother is actually a bit similar to my grandmother in some of their behaviors. Not that she could ever see that or anything).

The last day I saw my brother alive, I had a conversation with my mother. Okay, well, not so much a conversation as it was like trying to talk to a crazy person. I realized, and truly saw, that not matter what I say to her, she will never hear what I have to say; she will never be and can NEVER be wrong. EVER. I cried inside, not because I realized my mother was no mother, but because right before I saw her, I talked to my aunt. She told me how much she loved me, and how she wished she could be there to hold me. She said that if my mother started being difficult or giving me a hard time, to imagine that she was standing next to me, holding my hand, giving me her strength. And it dawned on me who was my true mother. My spiritual mother. The woman who has shown me time and again throughout my life, what it really means to be a mother. I call her aunt. I call her mom. But she's so much more than either of those titles. And with all the agita I have lived with from the woman who is my mother, I am grateful everyday that I have Cyna in my life.

So this is what makes it easier to deal with my mother. I can keep it superficial with her, because I have my "real" mom always standing my my side, holding my hand.

So why do I keep her in my life, you ask? The stupid phrase that keeps coming to my mind is "Because she's my mother." To which Cyna always says, "So what?" I suppose while she's being well behaved is fine. Since my brother died, it's like she has suddenly remembered she had another child. I haven't seen her this "happy and light" since... erm, ever, I don't think. (I know I vent here about all her machinations, but she was definitely not the world's worst mother. Far from it. Just a narcissistic personality/malignant narcissist disorder). I know most of her mood is because she no longer has to worry about my brother: he has moved on and is in a much better place, no longer trapped and in pain. He's fine.

I thought I would harden my heart after my brother died and shun her if she tried to reach out to me. But you know what? I don't want to stay angry with her, either. It keeps her too fresh, too much in the forefront. And that's not her place in my family. I know at this point what she's really like. I know I can't have a "real" conversation with her and fankly I feel so over it already. But again, I am extremely blessed to have the love and support from both my Cyna, and my father (who, everytime I tell him something my mother did from our childhood, it horrifies him and he cannot understand how his wife and my mother were ever the same person).

I know this doesn't answer everything; I'm still working it out, and I'll continue to do so for as long as it takes. Thank you once again for reading and all of your comments.

Less Ugly Post-Birth Saga, Episode 3

2007-06-04T12:41:00.000-04:00

And now... the conclusion. Here is the letter I received from N (after having sent her a thank you note and letter detailed in the previous post):
----------------------
Dearest Anna,

Thank you for your beautiful letter and most kind words. You need to know, I pray for you and Mr. R amd your dear son every day, and know that your sweetness is the result. I have a tremendous respect for you as well and look forward to the hug; you can be assured I'll be hugging you back. I'm also happy to hear Mr. R's posture is softening as well; he was only trying to protect his family and must have felt very threatened to say the things he did. My apologies again for bringing him to that brink.

As I get older, it is becoming more aparent that nothing is as it seems.

I have watched your dear mother suffer first the abuse of her father, then the torment of witnessing her son develop symptoms of a disease she realized she'd passed on to him, the disappointment and disbelief of a failed marriage, the struggle and heartbreat of a divorce, her bitterness and sadness of not feeling capable to attend your wedding... the list goes on.. Your mom always seems to be in the midst of a crisis... and so it goes.

I love her very much and try to spend as much time with her as my life allows. At this moment in time, she is struggling for survival. With your brother so close to death and your dad so angry she is grasping at anything that will keep her afloat. She has lost 30 pounds in the last 6 moths; she isn't eating properly and it is affecting her physically, emotionally and psychologically. She isn't talking to anyone meaningful (psychologist or psychiatrist) but continues to self-medicate - a sleeping pill or muscle relaxant here, an anti-depressant there... maybe a little alcohol before bed. She is often irrational, irritable and most notably inconsolable. At this moment in time, her state of being is most fragile.

She loves you very much, Anna; she wants and needs the relationship you speak of so tenderly but doesn't know how to go about attaining it. She is often her own worst enemy, regurgitating old hurts and disappointments and unable to look forward to the future and better times. I don't know what advice to give you except to pray for patience and hope you can facilitate in the healing that way. I can assure you it's definitely worth the effort; she has so much love to give and is feeling very alone in the world. It's a void I can't fill with time or money.

I also know how difficult it is to be with someone whose temperment is always an issue; my relationship with my father was strained until I decided to take control of it. I made it a policy to contact him about once a week (that was all I could take for a while)... but I called when it was convenient for me and when I had time to talk - or more accurately, listen to him ramble on about some insane thing or another. I knew what to expect when I got on the phone with him and when I hung up it was always with the promise of speaking to him again soon. It worked for me. I was able to muster up the resolve I needed to have the conversation and always felt better when the call was completed; I know it made difference to him as well.

I know I will be seeing you in the near future. I'm so sorry you're losing your brother; he is surely going to a better place, where he can see God's face and won't need his chair or legs. He will be missed but never forgotten. Knowing him has been a blessing in all our lives and the world is a better place because of him. I don't know if you're aware of the sculpture he did for me... it's enormous and lives in my backyard just behind the pool. I will always remember his creativity, enthusiasm and sincerity.

Much love and prayers for the days ahead.
With love,
N

PS: Please be discrete about who you allow to read this. I'm trusting your goal is the same as mine - to heal the wounds that divide your family. Blessings to you all.
------------------

I haven't shared that letter with anyone, even Mr. Right, until now. Because to be honest, I don't want to hold on to anger and resentment. I could say, "Oh yeah? Fuck you! You wrote that horrible e-mail!" But then I would be discounting the things that were said afterwards and those have to be taken into account as well. I chose to accept her letter at face value; I also take into account that N is a Sagitarius; they have a tendency to talk first and think afterwards. Mr. R calls this "Foot in Mouth disease"... He should know, he's a Sag rising. It's also a fire sign, so they can be a bit agressive. I'm an earth sign; in fact, my chart comprises of seven earth signs, four water and an air. So, ladies and gents, my name is mud. Literally. No fire. What's also interesting is that Mr. R has no water signs. None. And the Bee has only one earth sign (we both have the same ascendent). If you're curious about yours, you can look it up here for free.

Aside from that little astrological tangent, the choice is mine. Where do I want to go with this?
I'll be back soon with more, my comments on N's letter, Manuela's questions and more stuff as I try to figure out how I feel about my mother. It's helpful for me to try to work through all this stuff in the privacy of my own internet. Thank you for your comments and your support. You guys, as always, rock.

Very Ugly Post-Birth Saga, Episode 2

2007-05-30T11:35:00.000-04:00

Thank you guys for all your support. It's also nice to have some pats on the back for Mr. Right. I'm so grateful to have him in my life, and he feels the same way about me. We're a couple of very lucky dogs, even more so thanks to the Bee's presence in our lives.

Soooo... Where were we? Okay, this is what N wrote in response to Mr. R's well thought missive (these next few exchanges are brief):
"Goodbye and good luck… you’re gonna need it."

[My initial thought was, "Why am I going to need luck? I don't receive any kind of support from my mother. What, precisely, am I going to miss out on? Agita?"]

Mr. R's reply:
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out..."

N's reply, also sent to me & my mom:
"Just thought you’d all like to read what Mr. R has to say… I think what I might do is save this little exchange and pass it along to Anna when the guard dogs aren’t present…"

What N didn't realize is that Mr. R sent his initial response to not only her and my mother, but also to me and my father. He then sent the following e-mail to everyone, including my brother:
"YEP. AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN. STOP INTERFERING WITH [ANNA'S MOTHER] AND HER DAUGHTER. IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

So, here you go guys! Pass it along to Anna. And [Anna's Father]. And [Anna's Brother]. And [Anna's Mother]. and the rest of the family as well.

Here you go everybody! Enjoy! Gossip Gossip Gossip. What an evil little shit Anna's Husband is, standing up for her. I tell ya.

Hey [Anna's Brother]! How ya feelin? Isn't this fun? Let's see how badly this gets out of hand. I'm really looking for a family tussle right now...

Oh yeah everybody - don't forget to read from the bottom up... LOL

Sincerely,
Eeeeevil Little Shit."

Oh, good Lord, he's such a wise ass. So was my brother. This all happened the same day. The day before the Bee turned one week old. The only e-mail I don't have is the last one: N sent a reply that was an apology. She realized that she had been wrong, she should absolutely not have gotten involved and she understood Mr. R's stance. She congratulated us on the birth of our son and wished us all the very best.

Mr. R brushed it off, but I chose to accept the apology. If you were going to believe and accept any of it, then you had to accept all of it. This was a woman I had grown up with whom I recalled being funny and firm, generous and kind. They were happy to let us visit and use their pool, their house in Sunny Vacation State, their computers when I needed to work on my resume after graduating from college. She cut my hair, and braided it for my high school graduation. So it really hurt to have received this scathing e-mail from her. However... I know that this is what my mother does. She pleads her case, appeals to someone and makes herself looks like a victim: "My OWN daughter won't let me come to visit my only GRANDSON!!" Oh, I can hear it now... She whips people into a frenzy until they'd gladly go to hell and back for her, not realizing they'd been cleverly manipulated. I know because I have been manipulated by her before. She's really good at it, and for years she knew just how to push my brother's buttons. He'd already be in the air before she could finish saying "Jump!" And her control and manipulation of my brother is something I have a very difficult time with, but that's another post in and of itself.

So things died down, and eventually my mother called to check in on me and the baby... and pretended none of the above ever happened. As per usual. Trying to talk to her about any of this stuff is an act of sheer folly, as she can never acknowledge that she did anything wrong - she is always the victim in any situation! So I didn't bother to bring it up. Hey, I'm no glutton for punishment...

A few months later, we brought Bee out to visit my mother and see some of her family. She had some of her aunts over, and her cousin N. People brought gifts for the Bee, which was nice. N was friendly and told Mr. R in the kitchen, "He really is just beautiful." To which Mr. R replied coldly "Thank you." She kind of shrank under his steely gaze and told my mother she really had to go.

Later that day we went to visit my brother, which was a sad visit. I had no idea he had deteriorated so. He could barely move his arms, he was on pureed food, and he could only manage a word or two as a whisper. He did get to see Bee, though, and his eyes widened. We met up with one of my cousins and her husband for dinner then stayed at a hotel. The three of us drove back to our home state the next day and enjoyed the leisurely day.

Eventually, procrastinator that I am, I wrote N a thank you note. Here is the letter I included:
"Dear N,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. I hope your family is doing fine.

I just wanted to address something that has been hanging over me for the last few months. I never liked ignoring things and pretending they never happened. I think it’s better to get it out, talk about it, resolve it and move on. Life is way too short to be angry or hold grudges. I can completely understand why you called and e-mailed after Bee was born and my mom called you. Many times I have been in the same place. When you see someone you care about so upset and hurt, sometimes you can’t help but want to rise to their cause. I’ve done it myself (for my mom) on numerous occasions. It did take me quite a while to realize that no matter how convincing one side is, there are always two sides to every story. One of the reasons my brother and I drifted apart over the past seven years was due to similar exchanges. It went like this: My mom and I would have a telephone conversation. She would misconstrue something I said, usually in passing. She would get upset and talk to my brother, hurt by the perceived insult. Will, enraged that I could possible say [fill in the blank] to our mother, would call me, harass me and threaten me (“I’ll make your life miserable, I’ll make your life a living hell, you know I have a gun and know where you live”, etc.) before I could get him to tell me what the problem was. Every time he told me, it was always something that had been said innocently, or without any hidden meaning. As an adult, I have never said anything deliberately rude or cruel to my mother. I do have a tendency to be blunt, so I can certainly see where she might take things the wrong way. What makes this odd is I would never dream of talking to my mother the way [my brother] sometimes talked to her.

After each exchange, I would call my mom and clarify the statement in question. I always asked her to call me if I said something that might have rubbed her the wrong way, or if she took offense to anything I said. She promised that she would, but she never did. I would get a call from [my brother] and have to deal with the triangulation cycle all over again. For whatever reason, that’s just the way she is, and I’ve accepted that. She doesn’t see this as a behavior that needs changing, so I’ve learned to adapt. Every family has their own little idiosyncrasies, usually to one degree of dysfunction or another.

Hindsight is 20/20. After your initial phone message, I should have called my mother. Yes, this would be continuing the whole triangulation thing, now with someone new, but this is how it goes. Even my dad suggested I call my mother directly to diffuse and clarify. Frankly, at the time I was exhausted and overwhelmed. And maybe a little hurt that my mom couldn’t understand. I didn’t want to keep triangulating. I just wanted to try to eat, sleep and learn how to take care of my son. Then your e-mail was sent to Mr. Right. He was furious that you were involving yourself, and he was overprotective of our new family and me. I read the e-mails; I was pretty shocked too. I also could imagine how upset my mother must have sounded to compel to action. I’ve heard her that way also, many times, usually about my dad. It can really light a fire in your belly to fight and defend those you love. I guess what I’m saying is that I’ve been there and I understand where you were coming from. At the time I wasn’t prepared to deal with any of it, but I thought it should be addressed. I sincerely appreciated your acknowledgement and apology.

You are such a wonderful and dear confidant to my mom; I’m so glad that she can call you friend as well as cousin. I have always admired you while growing up. I remember you laughing a lot and being a fun person. What impressed me and what I remember most about you was your kindness to me and understanding when I put the toothpicks in [your daughter’s] pillowcase. You were firm, but not over emotional. I can remember thinking, even as a young girl, that when I grew up I wanted to be that kind of an understanding mother. It made sense to me then, and it hits home even more now that I am finally a mom.

Mr. R has since calmed down, and he thanks you for your gifts for Bee as well. We will use them in good health with the best wishes. After trying so hard for so long, seeing his beautiful smiling face and hearing his laugh make the countless injections, blood draws, ultrasounds, procedures and dashed hopes all worthwhile. We’re just so grateful to have the opportunity to be parents, and I’m also grateful that I was able to experience pregnancy. We are so very blessed to be entrusted with this wonderful little boy to love and rear, and we owe it to him (and to ourselves) to do the very best we can.

On that note, I hope you and your family are all well and enjoying the summer as it draws to a close. I send my love and best wishes to you and your family; I look forward to seeing you again soon, and giving you a hug." And then I signed it.

How would holding onto this anger help me or my family? I didn't want to stay angry - it takes too much goddamn energy, and frankly I'd rather focus my energy on my husband and son.

Tomorrow I'll sum up her handwritten response to me. Thanks for being there while I work through all of this.

Very Ugly Post-Birth Saga, Episode 1

2007-05-29T15:46:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know, I haven't updated for ages. Quick Bee update: he's started walking! Well, he started about a month ago, one step on a Monday, then another on the following Monday... I started thinking at this pace, he'll be running by kindergarten! I guess I thought he'd be walking by his 1st birthday, even though I KNOW children all develop at their own paces. So in his 14th month, he's gotten the hang of it and is now walking. He still crawls, too but he's walking more every day. He's doing a great job and we're so proud of him :)

He says Dada, Mama, Mimi (we have no idea who or what Mimi is, but we're on the lookout...), cat, there, bye, yes, and I swear he said baboon in reference to a balloon, but he hasn't repeated that. He loves playing peek-a-boo, hiding his face and then peering out from behind the hiding object (pillow, wall, blanket, my leg) with a huge grin. His napping is a little sporadic, but he's sleeping great at night. We love him oodles and still can't believe he's here and healthy. So, our little family of three is thrilled about our domestic bliss. Yay us!

I've had so much stuff brewing in my head for more than a year... Issues with my mother, and Manuela's latest posts have really brought it to the front of my mind. This is a big thing I've wondered about how, precisely to address it; I'm just going to plunge in. This chapter starts after the Bee was born...

Four days after the Bee's arrival, my mother called to tell me she was coming with her cousin to visit me and the baby on Saturday. This was after my first night home with the wee one and I was so exhausted and overwhelmed, I couldn't form a coherent thought. I was panicked because I didn't know what to do to get Bee to stop crying. I told my mom that I'd love to see her, but I was exhausted and wigging out, and could they come next weekend instead? She sounded very put out and said she didn't know if she could make it next weekend; her cousin's husband would be away this weekend and they could come then. Then she said that she only wanted to peek at the baby for 5 minutes, drop off some gifts and leave. Ummm... okay, so you don't really want to visit with me, or see how I'm doing, you just want to see your grandson, say you've seen your grandson and skedaddle? Gee, I'm touched! I asked her again to come another weekend, I was tired and overwhelmed and trying to figure everything out. She got all huffy and said she'd see and hung up. You might not have noticed, but my mom isn't the one to turn to for sympathy (or empathy).

Thankfully my aunt & cousin were arriving that same day to help, so I was eternally grateful to get some assistance. Plus, they would be there for five days. I was so happy once they arrived I cried. They did everything - cooked, cleaned, help me take care of the baby, helped me take care of myself - it was a priceless gift.

Six days after Bee's arrival, the phone rang early in the morning. I didn't answer it (duh! I was exhausted, and Mr. R was sleeping, too). My aunt who was sleeping in the living room with my cousin heard the message: my mother's cousin, the one who was going to drive her (we live about 2.5 hours apart), called to admonish me for treating my mother so rudely, telling me I owed her an apology and said, "Well, I don't know what we're going to do with the gifts now."

My aunt was livid. My husband was livid. I was stunned and hurt. They both told me not to call anyone back. I recognized the tactic; my brother had called for years chastising me over some perceived insult my mother would cry about. My mom is fantastic with triangulation. Since my brother had such a difficult time talking, I felt immediate dread: NOW who's going to call defending my mother?! I didn't call my mother back, or her cousin, by her cousin sent an e-mail to our company's website, which was received by my husband. It was horrible. It was scathing, insulting, rude, insensitive... I was shocked. Mr. R was ... livid is just too mild a term. I was debating on whether or not to post this... I think I will. This is the actual e-mail my mother's cousin (we'll call her N) sent (names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved):

… if you are receiving your messages… or if someone is screening them or what the story is out there in [your town].

I just need to make sure you all know how your decision not to allow [Anna's mother] to visit her daughter and first grandchild has left her devastated. Frankly, I think it’s inconceivable.

[My daughter] has just delivered her third Caesarian birth, so I know from what I speak. I offered to bring [Anna's mother] this Saturday because it was convenient for me. I am not at her beckon call, nor at Anna's whim. We weren’t interested in being entertained by any of you; our intention was to make the drive, stop for lunch somewhere, see the baby and new mother and father, and drive home. It wasn’t going to be an imposition on anyone, least of all Anna.

I feel sorry for all of you. Once again, your inconsideration, thoughtlessness and insensitivity have won out over clear thinking and decency. Too bad; any good that could have come from the fences you mended regarding your equally ill-planned wedding in [Small Country across the Atlantic] have been all but forgotten. Someday you’ll know it’s really your loss.
Sincerely, N"

Just as a note, I have been compared to N's daughter nearly my entire life (I'm 2 years older). So much so that until a few years ago, I used to preface my thoughts, actions, purchases with "Would she do this? Would she buy that?" etc. Late in life I stopped and thought "Who the fuck is SHE?! And why do I keep comparing myself to her! STOP IT!!!" I've finally stopped it.

After a little time but during the same day, Mr. R drafted his response and e-mailed it to both of them:

N & [Anna's Mother] -

I am receiving all of the messages, and I am not giving them to Anna. Having gone through the c-section and taking care of Bee has been trauma enough.

Anna's "decision not to ALLOW [Anna's Mother] to visit her daughter" is simply not the case. We have people here catering to her every whim (and Bee's), The house is being renovated and I have a business to run - sans Anna in her regular duties. We simply felt that this weekend was inconvenient for us, due to the company staying here and the mess around the house. Anna ASKED her mother to come up at a more convenient time. She was not ORDERED TO STAY AWAY. That is simply ludicrous and untrue. Obviously, miscommunication along the grapevine has occurred again, which is regrettable. By no means do we want [Anna's Mother] to stay away. For what reason would we want that?

Now - it seems to me this is an issue of convenience... but for whom?

Anna very much wanted to spend some quality time with her mother, AT LENGTH. Not for five minutes. It was important to her.

Now, If [Anna's Mother] takes it as an affront or a rejection, that simply was not the case. Neither I nor Anna have control over how [Anna's Mother] reacts to situations. Only [Anna's Mother] does. So, I would like to tell [Anna's Mother] directly that it was not our intention to insult you. But you must understand that right now, you are making it more inconvenient for Anna than she is making it inconvenient for you. We were not of the impression that you need to be "entertained". By no means. We simply wish a longer visit.

Now, it seems to me that no consideration is made towards Anna's schedule, but we have to bend over backwards to make sure everyone else is accommodated. Can there be no wiggle room? Can there be no compromise on your part? MUST IT BE YOUR WAY OR NO WAY AT ALL? That's the way it seems to me.

So, [Anna's Mother] let me be the first one to say that your daughter is my sunrise and sunset and I AM VERY OVERPROTECTIVE OF HER. She loves you and wants a wonderful Mother and Daughter relationship. I think that you, as the elder, should be a little more flexible and think before you react. By sicking N on us, you have may have poured gas on a fire of your own making. I WILL NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOW THIS TO CONTINUE. I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR FROM N AGAIN. EVER. If you have a problem CONTACT ME DIRECT. I love both you and [Anna's brother] as my family and wish us to work out our differences. LEAVE N OUT OF THE LOOP.

Now, I am very busy this weekend trying to support your Daughter and your Grandson, so I'm going to leave it at that. I will call you on Monday when you have had a chance to reflect. If you wish to work out everything, I love and respect you and will be more than willing to diffuse any anger you have towards this unfortunate ridiculousness.

Now, N -

As far as the wedding in [Small Country across the Atlantic] was concerned, do you really think it was about the location? She had no problem going to [Anna's Brother's] wedding in [Desert Casino City], which was essentially the same flight distance as our wedding. We went out of our way to find a place that had a wonderful spot to get married and would be handicap accessible for [Anna's Mother], with a wonderful room, servants, the whole nine yards. Why on earth wouldn't we want her to be at her daughter's wedding? N wanted her desperately to be there. But [Anna's Mother] CHOSE not to go, not because of the distance...

BUT BECAUSE HER FATHER WAS THERE WITH [His Partner].

So, in effect, [Anna's Mother] made Anna CHOOSE between her parents.

Need I remind you of the Biblical tale of two women came before King Solomon with two little babies, one dead and the other living. Each of the two women claimed the living child as her own, and said that the dead child belonged to the other woman. One of the women said, "O my lord, we two women were sleeping with our children in one bed. And this woman in her sleep lay upon her child, and it died. Then she placed her dead child beside me while I was asleep, and took my child. In the morning I saw that it was not my child; but she says it is mine, and the living child is hers. Now, O king, command this woman to give me my own child." Then the other woman said, "That is not true. The dead baby is her own, and the living one is mine, which she is trying to take from me."

The young king listened to both women. Then he said, "Bring me a sword."

They brought a sword, and then Solomon said, "Take this sword, and cut the living child in two, and give half of it to each one." Then one of the women cried out, and said, "O my lord, do not kill my child! Let the other woman have it, but let the child live!" But the other woman said, "No, cut the child in two, and divide it between us!" Then Solomon said, "Give the living child to the woman who would not have it slain, for she is its mother."

That was the way I saw the wedding in [Small Country across the Atlantic]. So, for you to call it "ill-planned" just shows to me your contemptible ignorance.

So, the drive up here had to be convenient for you? FOR YOU? You don't give a damn about Anna, all you care about is whether [Anna's Mother] is upset or not.

Having made your way in the world, amassing a successful business, three beautiful children and a wonderful marriage, I would think you would have more of a brain to know that there are two sides to every story. If there was any more smug scolding pouring from your email I think I could have put it in a can and sold it. I am not one of your employees and I am not one of your children. Do your condescending self a favor and stay out of other people's business. You just burned your bridge with me."

Ugh, I feel icky all over just reading this crap, but no one has ever stuck up for me or defended me the way Mr. Right has. (Well, I'm sure my dad would, but I don't think anyone ever attacked me in front of him before). That's all the vitriol I'm going to get into today, but I'll continue again tomorrow or so with N's reply... and Mr. R's response to that reply.

Thank you for reading.

My God... It's Full OF Stars...

2007-04-17T22:13:00.001-04:00

Bee has gotten so cheeky lately. While feeding himself, he'll look right at me and smile broadly as he holds a piece of food over the floor. "No!" I say, trying to look firm and authoratative. "Food does not go on the floor. It goes in your mouth, or on the tray, but NOT ON THE FLOOR." Continuing to grin impishly, he drops the food on the floor, and then wiggles in mischevious glee. He does this whenever he's doing something he knows he's not supposed to, like going into the living room without mommy or daddy, or touching the remotes, or dropping books into the bath tub. Or dropping anything inappripriate into the toilet. We do stop him from actually doing these thing, but he's really funny and incredibly adorable, especially when he's trying to get away with something.

On a groundbreaking note, Bee has started going to bed without crying. He started April 1st, and did so every other day for a week. Now it seems to be the norm, for now. We read him his bedtime story, say our little goodnight things while he stands up at his crib railing, sucking his thumb and looking at us happily. It's a really nice turn of events and all three of us are enjoying it.

Crisis Averted

2007-04-02T23:02:00.000-04:00

I apologized to my MIL first thing this morning. She didn't seem out of sorts this morning, but I wanted to nip any situation in the bud. She said, "Oh! Don't worry about it. I was trying to tell you that mothers don't get any respect, but you weren't getting it!" I replied, "Yeah, I'm so sorry, I've been a little hormonal lately, not that that's an excuse. I just feel awful." It went on a little bit, but wound up fine. And it turns out my FIL wanted to stay home to make the Bee a mixed tape of classical pieces and watch the entire series of Rome. Which was absolutely fine with me...

I had such a nice day with my son! He woke up a little early (7:45 am!) so Mr. Right and I got him up and opened the rest of his birthday presents. Bee nursed and had breakfast. We played for a while in his room, exploring some of his new toys, then went for a walk around town. We went to a garden park and I chilled out while he napped for an hour. Then back home for lunch with Mommy, Daddy and Grandma. More playing! More toys! Another walk in the gorgeous 75º weather! Tried putting him down for his second nap but he wasn't having any of it. So we played for a while, had a little dinner (quiche and soy cheese) and then - Bath time! Which is so much more fun now that the Bee is actually enjoying baths. Not too crazy about getting his face wet, but loves splashing and trying to drink the water. Mr. Right joined us and got his share of splashy slpashy as well. We had pajama time, more playing... my mom called to sing Happy Birthday to him, and then we got him ready for bed. While nursing him get became so drowsy; we read him Goodnight moon and put him to bed. I still can't believe he's a year. What really puts it over the edge is his new haircut. It's much shorter and makes him look like a little boy, not a baby. Time has flown by so quickly. I have savored every day with him, and I am grateful for his very existence. We told him his little birth story this morning, which, I have a feeling, we'll probably so every birthday. It's so nice to start new traditions, and I'm over the moon about having a little boy to share them with.

Thank you, also, to everyone who commented on the previous post and gave good advice on dealing with in-laws. It is tough dealing with family you see nearly every day; I guess that will just be a work in progress. Now I am getting very very sleepy..... Sweet dreams to all.

52 Weeks Ago...

2007-04-01T21:47:00.000-04:00

I was exhausted and pushing. The Bee arrived via Cesarean section just before 9:00 in the morning. Receiving magnesium sulfate through an IV, I was so weak I could barely hold my newborn son and struggled to focus on his face. Despite the fatigue and disorientation, I was so happy he was finally here - perfect, intact, healthy... what a lovely baby boy.

Seeing Bee today, it's incredible to realize this baby boy is growing up; he'll never get any younger or smaller. He'll just keep getting bigger and eventually more independent. I really like his sense of humor... he enjoys fake outs: offering you something to eat, only to put it in his own mouth when you think he's really going to put it in yours. He'll put his arms out to be held by someone, only to turn away at the last moment, wiggling and smiling mischievously. He loves dancing, using his whole body and wiggling his shoulders - it's hysterical! When he coughs, I have instructed him to "Please cover your mouth when you cough", as it's the polite thing to do. Of course he sees mommy & daddy cover their mouths, and he's actually started doing that this week. He has also discovered his tongue, and will be happy to show anyone who inquires as to it's whereabouts. He is a delight and I'm grateful to have him in my life.

Oh, and my Dad did make it to the party. He felt bad, but better then yesterday. I was so pleased he could make it, but I hope he gets better very soon.

I think the most difficult thing about having a baby has been... dealing with the grandparents. Specifically my in laws. To re-cap, they live 10 minutes away. My MIL works with us in our business and as my FIL wasn't really doing his job, he watches the Bee in our apartment upstairs from where we work. He does a great job and loves him a lot. Being a Cancer male, he's practically a breast and some of his actions I find a bit smothering (sometimes when Bee crawls, FIL crawls right over him; he did this today at the party). He told me once that when the Bee starts walking he wanted to get a leash and harness and walk right behind him, so that if the Bee started to fall, he could hold onto the leash and prevent him from falling. Mr. Right and I told him that this was not a good idea, but thanks all the same. Mr Right told me was mollycoddled terribly by his parents growing up and he didn't want the same kind of upbringing for his children. I couldn't agree more. I always thought I would be a control freak worry wort kind of mother, but seeing their over protective behavior has really brought me up short. I was a little taken aback by my FIL sitting himself down with the Bee to open up his presents in front of everyone... I guess I always thought the mom and dad should be doing that with their first child's first birthday, but I could be wrong. I think I am still a bit of a control freak, but there are some things I'd like to do with my son. We tried so hard for a long time to get him here, and now that the Bee is here with us, I want to be able to enjoy all the little moments, like opening his presents with him on his very first birthday. We did save some, the presents he received at play group, to open tomorrow morning with him. We enjoy being a family, just the three of ; we don't have a lot of time for that. So the moments we do share are so very precious.

Unfortunately, I snapped at my MIL this evening and while this was not a big thing, any contradiction is enough to send her into a nuclear meltdown. Tomorrow morning I will approach her as soon as she arrives for work and apologize profusely. I certainly didn't mean to hurt her feelings, but I only contradicted her. The scenario was this: I put Bee down for a nap and he fell asleep. About 10 minutes later he woke up. (Sometimes he does this; if left alone, he settles himself and falls back asleep without further incident). Upon hearing his cry, my FIL rushed into his room as I said "Don't go in there! He'll go back to sleep on his own!" He ignored me and closed the door behind him. Feeling frustrated, I went into the kitchen and started putting some clean dishes away. My MIL followed and said "Don't worry about it; no one listens to me either. That's the role of motherhood - everyone ignores you." I said "That's not okay with me. Bee needs to be able to soothe himself to get to sleep (which he does fine when he's with me). It's not okay to just ignore what I have to say." So that's pretty much it. I don't think this is way out of line, but after a very lengthy discussion with Mr. R, I performed a huge transgression - I didn't just say, " Yeah, well... so... those were such adorable outfits you got for him! Where did you get them?"

I've got to learn to play the game. Mr. R learned at a very early age that his parents need to be handled just so. It's like handing radi*oactive material; the tiniest bump will cause a massive, ugly meltdown. One of the scariest things I ever saw in my life was a full on screaming match with his parents. I never saw people act that way before. Sure my parents argued occasionally (and I saw them flip the bird at each other more than a few times), but I'd never seen insane fury like that. Even in the movies. And the really sad part? Mr. R said that was what growing up was like, several times a week. With things sent flying. That was why he worked so hard in college to get a job upon graduation. Because the alternative was going back to live with them.

They've since calmed down considerably. I was very apprehensive about them spending so much time with Bee because I never wanted to expose him to such ill behavior. However, thus far, they have proved my fears wrong. I pray this continues and I will remain watchful of their interactions in around him.

There are a lot of things they do that are very kind and lovely; they are not horrible, beastly people. It would be easier to hate them if they were, but nothing in life is that simple. Like with most other things, I must look at them and see the good. They are very good with Bee and love him to distraction (although in asking his dad to watch Ben from 9:30am to 5 pm, my FIL did say that he was emotionally exhausted at the end of the day. Then he calls on weekends to ask how he is because he misses the Bee so much). They have done so much to help us over the years, but of course everything has its price. They can be very sweet and thoughtful. My FIL made a picture book for the Bee; clearly so much thought went into it. It's a book you keep business cards in; he put in pictures of the Bee, me & Mr. R, Mr. R as a young lad, pictures of babies, pictures of himself, toys... it was very touching. What's awful is that, Virgo that I am, I am terribly nit picky. My inclination is to find the errors and bring them to light (excepting, apparently, grammar and spelling). Because, you know, everyone just loves having their faults aired.

Sorry for yet another rambling post. It started off reminiscing about the Bee's birth, I divulged into ranting about my ILs, and figured out I need to see the good in people instead of zoning in on their flaws.

What will tomorrow bring? I'm taking the day off to spend with the Bee on his first natal day (when I told my FIL, he said he was going to ask for the day off, probably because he heard my contradictions. In their mind, contradiction = ungrateful). So we're going to have some fun. Anytime I get to spend with Bee is fun, and I treasure every minute. I look forward to a very happy birthday with my little, dearest love.

As Time Goes By

2007-03-31T22:12:00.000-04:00

I always swore that I would never have two parties for the Bee. My attitude used to be, "Hey, if everyone can't make it, too bad. It's not my job to make people get along." Yeah, well... used to be. My parents are divorced and don't get along. They were mostly civil for my brother's funeral which was a relief. The real reason I'm having two parties is because my mother is in a wheelchair and we live in an apartment on the second floor. She used to be able to make it up stairs, but it's gotten more difficult. Actually, it was two years ago, a year before Bee was born - the only time she came to visit me since I've lived in the Northeast.

If I invited my mother, I'd have to have the party somewhere else and I really didn't want to have a huge shebang - just a few close family and friends. I figured it would be easier to ask my mom if she might want to have a party for Bee at her house the following weekend (which happens to be Easter weekend this year). I'm glad I made this choice; she's been really excited about it and has gotten all kinds of neat things for the kids invited (my best friend's three kids, and a 2nd cousin's kids). I'm glad she's looking forward to it and having fun. We'll go out and stay for the weekend, go to service on Easter then have brunch. I'm sure it will be pleasant and we're all looking forward to it. In fact, I think we'll plan on this every year. See? Two parties can actually work out for the best.

Sadly, I don't think my dad will be able to make it to Bee's party here tomorrow - he's developed a terrible case of bronchitis. He said he'll see how he feels tomorrow, but I'm not holding my breath. Frankly, I'd rather he rest up and take massive amounts of vitamins A, C & E, garlic & goldenseal. This is the busiest time of year for the clergy, So I hope he feels better soon. He can always come to visit after Easter to celebrate Bee's first year.

Now that I think about it, there were really three parties - we had kind of a mini party at my playgroup on Friday. I wanted to have everyone at our house, which would have been fine for just the babes, but there are a number of older kids too. Our apartment is about 1100 square feet with only two rooms relegated to kid use. I even invited one of my friends over from playgroup to get her opinion (and had a little play date with her son); she concurred - not enough space! So I made cupcakes, brought balloons, bought decorations and favor bags and my friend who was hosting helped me with some things from her son's first birthday party. That's just one of the things I like about my playgroup - lots of boys just slightly older than Bee.

What did Mommy & Daddy get Ben? His very own chair! Which you can see here. (Got it on eB*ay and saved quite a bit). Oh, it's so cute. We assembled it tonight and he jumped right on to it. Well, we're glad he loves it!

There are some other, more serious issues I've been contemplating. Hurry Up n Wait is going to try to post every day in April. That's a great idea and I'd like to give it a go. Not sure that I want to do it formally, so we'll see. For now, I'm going to go have the delicious dinner Mr. Right has made and write some notes in Bee's baby book. Still can't believe he'll be one year old on Monday. My goodness, where has the time gone...

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

2007-03-16T18:01:00.000-04:00

Yep, that's the roller coaster of the Bee's emotions. I present for your review Exhibit A, wherein the Bee is fussy: [Picture removed of Bee crying].Now may I present Exhibit B, clearly demonstrating the Bee with a much more pleasant attitude: [Picture removed of Bee smiling]. Naturally, these pictures were taken within mere seconds of each other. Moral: you just never know what's going to happen from one second to the next.

Which is actually okay with me; he's so frickin' adorable it makes the fussy moments pish-posh. He now points to me when Mr. Right asks "Where's Mommy?", and he points to Mr. Right when I ask "Where's Daddy?!" with no small exaggeration, as of course Daddy is right there in front of him. He waves much more readily now, both hi and bye, and he's cruising nicely. I tried him on tilapia last night, which he loved, although he is apparently not into the zucchini, even though he smiles at the name. But what really makes him smile is... yogurt. When I say it, when he sees the container, and when he eats it, that boy looooooooves his yogurt. I'm going to try cottage cheese and hummus next, thanks to a recommendation by Bon at Crib Chronicles in a House of Maio post.

Lots more to write... mother issues, work issues, IL issues... but I want to get some soup on before the Bee wakes up from his nap. Which should be any second now....

Bonk

2007-02-22T11:46:00.000-05:00

The Bee fell off the bed on Tuesday night. Or to be more precise, he was standing up, holding onto the metal footboard, leaned over, flipped and did a nose dive onto the floor. While I was watching him. Panic, panic panic. I was terrified, thinking of head injuries, spinal cord injuries, etc. When I picked him up he arched his back , holding his breath, cried and then passed out. Then I really started wigging. He was still breathing, and came to pretty quickly. Mr. R ran upstairs, as he could hear the fall from the office. I felt like the worst mother ever under his gaze. I called the Bee's pedi, who said he's probably fine and to bring him to the ER just to be on the safe side. We did, Bee was examined and had a head CT, which was normal. His behavior was fine and he didn't even have a bump. Not sure how that was possible. I had to wake him up at 2:30 am just to make sure he was alert and orientated, and he was. All day yesterday he's back to his usual self, and only a little redness on his forehead. Not even a bump! Little muffin, I felt so awful, but I'm just grateful he's okay. That was enough excitement for a week. Or a month.

I know Kath and Thalya are nearly neck and neck with their pregnancies, just past the middle of the first trimester when everything seems so touch and go, and the DBTs are ever present. I just wanted to say that the DBTs don't go away once they're out and home from the hospital. I'm sure every parent alive has gone in to check on their sleeping baby, just to make sure they're still breathing. I think I'd be in a shear panic if I went in and my son wasn't breathing. Because then you wonder, well, how long has he not been breathing?! It's scary business, being a parent, and I suppose anyone who has gone through ART has kinda been through a crash course of crappy scenerios (cancelled cycles, low fertilization results, early losses) to be able to deal with these kind of things. As a good friend of mine said, "That's life. Kids are going to get hurt, whether you're with them or not. " We just need to try in minimze the damage; falling off a bed is one thing. Falling down a flight of stairs is something else.

On a lighter note, any time Bee gets close to the edge of the bed or the couch, we warn him not to get too close. "You don't want to fall off and bonk your head." He sits up, grinning, and slaps the side of his head with his hand, simulating bonking, it would appear. Bonk indeed.

General PMS Musings...

2007-02-01T13:42:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or do there seem to be a fair number of pregnancies going on? Kath and Thalya are in the early stages and I'm both happy and nervous for them. Vicky just found out she was pregnant on January 7th, and is feeling icky (yay!). Hurry Up n Wait is just out of the first trimester (I think), Leggy is at 15 weeks with twins, and Luo Lin is past 20 weeks. NME at Strangeafeet is expecting her second child in August. It's so nice to see, I only wish this for more of the lovely women I read. So go visit these lovely ladies and offer your support, I know we could all use it!

That, and I really wanted to get the previous post behind me. I sounded so desperate! I swear I'm not begging for attention, but I am, apparently in the throws of PMS. Just being moody, irritable, and generally insecure. I also haven't figured out a way to see who has been visiting here or how often so all I have to go by are the comments.

Manuela of the recently password protected Thin Pink Line wrote about being disappointed that she had a visit from the crimson bitch, even though she and her husband had not had sex the previous month. Which means that had she been pregnant, it would have been my immaculate conception. I find this concept hysterical, and I can still relate to it. I keep having dreams that I get pregnant, we go through testing and find out everything is fine. Then I wake up. Now, having had a tubal ligation, it's next to impossible to get pregnant. I told Mr. Right about these dreams, as he and I have been talking about our desire to extend out family. He told me to keep dreaming, not that he wouldn't love for it to happen, but the chances are nil. Besides the fact that the reason I had my tubes tied to begin with were to avoid having to terminate a pregnancy with an affected male or carrier female. Which really sucked the first time around.

We've spoken with my cousin, but her schedule is booked with school for about the next two years. So, the way I look at it, we'll just have to play it by ear and listen to our hearts. We tried so hard with the IVF and PGD. When we did the donor cycle, it worked out so well - our schedules, the RE just happened to have a cycle available that coincided with our schedules, and it worked - we have a bouncing and healthy baby Bee. I believe that that was the way is was supposed to work. So, we'll just have to figure out what we're supposed to do. If it turns out we can't give the Bee a brother or a sister that will be okay. Believe me, I am so happy with the Bee and I'm grateful for my blessings every day. I mean, actually every day. We just need to listen to our instincts; they haven't been wrong yet.

Um... hello?

2007-01-25T16:04:00.000-05:00

Okay, I realize I've posted about once a month since the Bee's arrival so I'm sure some people just gave up on coming by to read, but I have come to the sad realization that no one is reading here any more. Ack! Well, there's not much I can do about it, aside from visit and comment on other people's blogs, and blog here more frequently. I'm making an effort to try both, so we'll see what happens.

What's going on? The bee is doing very well, said "bye bye" the other day (which was incredibly cute and I'm so glad Mr. Right was in the room to hear it so I wasn't just having an audio hallucination); his top right teeth are still coming in he's crawling around and pulling up on everything in sight. He fell off the bed last night, which made me feel like the worst mother of the year, because I was standing right next to him and somehow managed to miss catching him on the way down. He landed on his noggin and started crying, but was fine within a minute and back to crawling around on the bed again. He's fine this morning, although those DBTs never really go away. They're just transformed into thoughts of closed head or spinal cord injuries. Great.

We went to visit my aunt and her family for Christmas and New Years which was really lovely. In fact, it was so nice being around such a loving and warm family that it actually prompted Mr R to suggest having another child. Mr. R grew up an only child in a highly dysfunctional family with parents who were also from highly dysfunctional families. The word family never meant very much to him, seeing what his reference point was. Being with my aunt and her family, while a little unconventional (my uncle left when my youngest cousin was 4, and aunt C's partner for the past 13 years has been a woman), Mr. R was surprised to see what family could be. He thought it would be nice for the Bee to have a bother or sister. As A's results are negative, this is a possibility, although we'd have to talk with her about it first. And not anytime real soon, she's in graduate school and I'm not ready yet - the Bee will only be 10 months old next Friday. I always thought we'd only have one child, and I was fine with that but I'm starting to warm up to the idea. I waver; wondering if we're tempting fate with trying for a second when we've been so blessed to have gotten this far. We have time to think about it, I guess I'm playing the wait and see game.

On a rather sucky note, my cousin S, A's older sister, is a carrier also. While this sucks a great deal more than not being a carrier, at least she has options (IVF with PGD or egg donation). And being a carrier doesn't mean you're going to become symptomatic, so at least there's that. She's getting married in July and we're really looking forward to the wedding. We'll be flying with the Bee, but I think we'll get him his own seat this time.

He did very well on his flights to and from my aunt's City, but he was a bit squirmy. If we have him in a car seat, maybe he'll think he's in a car and take a nap. Or chill out. We'll see.

One really nice plus was a play date with Jen of Fertility Now! while visitng my aunt; she lives near my aunt's restaurant. Her son Andrew is 2 days younger then the Bee, so it was pretty cool for them to play together, although they're still pretty young to really interact. There was a lot of face touching, with Jen and I alert to be sure no eye poking happened inadvertantly. She was such a lovely woman and I really appreciated her opening her home to someone she barely knew for a little play date. I love Bloglandia! I just hope Bloglandia still likes me...

On happy notes, Thalya got a positive pregnancy test and goes next Friday for a scan, when she'll be about 6 weeks along. She had a bit of pink spotting so please go show her some love. NME is also pregnant after trying for quite a while and expects her second bundle of joy in the beginning of August. Anita is also finally expectant. Leggy is pregnant with twins thanks to embryo donation. Luo Lin just had her 20 week scan and everything looks just great. The Fisher Queen is home with her new son, as is Katie at Maybe Expectant. Demeter's Joy brought home her daughter, Yael and is loving being a first time mom. I'm so happy for you all!

So at last there are some nice things happening throughout Bloglanda, although I know there are so many more for whom I wish would be able to complete their families one way or another. I'm honored to be able to read all of your stories and I thank each of you for sharing.
Untill next time, Good Afternnon, Good Evening and Good Night.

Mooney Mooney Me, Apparently

2007-01-18T00:29:00.000-05:00

This was fun:

You are The Moon

Hope, expectation, Bright promises.

The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.

The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

BTW, my brother is still coming by for visits and I'm genuinely glad of that. I told my therapist that our relationship has neve been better. He may be dead, but he's not gone and I find that tremendously reassuring. I'm just glad he's happy and free; I betcha he's surfing, too.

The DVD 3-Pack

2007-01-17T14:18:00.000-05:00

The other night Mr. Right & I were talking in bed about the baggage that comes along with marriage. I'm speaking primarily of in-laws. Mr. R likened the situation to buying a three pack of DVDs. Usually they package a really good film with a couple of crappy ones, so we had fun picking out what our 3-packs were. Mr. R is like the The Two T*owers with Captian R*on and Air B*ud. Mine is like the Empire Srike*s Back with The Cripple*d Lamb and Cras*h (the David Cron*enberg film). Anyone want to volunteer what your 3-packs would be?

There's lots of agita we get from our in-laws; the most frustrating thing is that we work with his parents. He knows how annoying and aggrivating they can be, and they just don't work the way we do. My Dad & Mom are 1 hour & 15 minues and 2.5 hours away respectively, so at least we have a little distance there. My ILs actually have used their key to our house to drop by a few times unannounced and unlocked a locked door. This is a big no-no with me, and I think they got the picture when I said "Oh! Did I leave that door open?" "No, it was locked" they replied. "Oh......" I said [enter long awkward silence here]. Our outer door locks, so we've taken to using it, as they have no concept of boundaries and aren't capable of change.

On the breastfeeding front I'm still at it (yay!), although I have quit pumping. After reaching an all time low morning pumping of .5 oz, I figured it was more efficient for Ben to nurse during the day. So instead of taking pumping breaks, I now take nursing breaks. His diapers are plenty wet, so clearly he's getting plenty of nutrition. He's a lean little boy, but not scrawny. That kid is strong! He's crawling a mile a minute and just started cruising. He's babbling up a storm and still sleeping through the night, so we're all pretty happy here. He's got one tooth on top, with another just breaking through. These are on the left side, we're still waiting for the front teeth on the right side. And of course, he did locate his package a couple of months ago; he checks for it every time we change him, just to make sure everything is still there, I suppose. That, and I'm sure it feels good.

I'll reeeeeeeeeaaaaaly try to post more frequently. It's a challenge because I have a set time to try to squeeze in a lot of work, and that doesn't leave a lot of time left over for blogging. I get a lot fewer comments than I used to, and I'm sure my laxity in posting owes to that. I'm also sure that it's difficult for some who are still in the trenches to visit someone who's gone to the other side. And let me be perfectly frank: if I were still in the trenches, baby and pregnancy posts would be the last things I'd want to read. I know there are some of you who still visit; I don't know how you do it. I'm serious, I wouldn't be able to. And I am rooting for every one of you to be able to have the family you so desire.

So...About those DVD 3-packs....your thoughts?

Confirmation

2007-01-08T18:12:00.000-05:00

Just got cousin A's results: Negative! Not a carrier, which is just so awesome. Just a reminder, A donated the eggs that resulted in baby Bee : ).
So, yay for everyone all around!

So visit Katie and show her some support, Cricket arrived early and is in the NICU. Gotta run, have a date with the muffin...

Updates All Around

2006-12-20T22:09:00.000-05:00

Yes, I realize I've been awful since the Bee's arrived about posting. I'm averaging once a month which is shoddy as hell, but damnit, it's so hard to find the frickin' time!

Here's my daily schedule: I get up at 5:30 a.m. and pump. Since my pump is malfunctioning nad only one side works at a time, I eat while pumping to ge the most out of my time (time is the increasingly valuable commodity). Then I shower, do any dishes in the sink, dry my hair; by this time it's 8:00 a.m. and we get baby bee up for the day. We nurse, then finish breakfast in the highcair with oatmeal and fruit. My FIL shows up at some point (after 9:00 a.m., but before 10:00 a.m.). I go to work (easy commute, right downstairs), then pump again around 11 or 12. Keep working, then pump around 3 or 4. If I'm on a deadline, pumping gets pushed back until the deadline is no longer an issue. I finish work around 5 or 6 pm (again, depending on deadline). I go home, usually nurse the Bee, then feed him dinner (rice cereal & fruit). I get him changed into PJs, we play for a while then start to wind down at about 8p.m. We nurse, then read bedtime story (Goodnight Moon), then Bee goes down for bed by 8:30 p.m. Mr. R & I eat dinner (he usually cooks), watch some telly, and then I doze off on the couch by 10:00 before Mr. R gets me up to tuck me in. That's generally it. So where the heck do I find time to post? I have limited time to try to get stuff done at work. When I've got a dealine, everything else gets sacrificed, including eating if I'm pressed for time enough. That's just the nature of my job which I love, but naturally I'd rather be with my son. Right now Mr. Right is Christmas shopping, so that gives me some time to get caught up on my blog reading and writing. Yay! My Christmas shopping? All online. When the heck am I supposed to get out? I'm not complaining - I realize working downstairs from where you live is a huge advantage and I'm grateful for it, but that's why we bought this building. Sometimes we can work very late, and we didn't want to have to commute far when we're working until 11 or 12 at night. And no matter what time I go to bed, I still have to get up at 5:30. Unless I oversleep, which makes a mess of everything.

So, um, yeah, that's why I don't get to post as much as I'd like. I'm just saying...

••••••

On the breastfeeding front, I'm still at it. I've tried lots of things to try to increase the supply (thank you all so much for your wonderful words of encouragement and support, all your suggestions! You guys rock!); what wound up working the best was a prescription fo Reglan from my OB. I was stunned at the results and really saw an increase. Then the crimson bitch arrived and fucked it all up. So I'm going back on it. There are some side effects, but I didn't experience any of them, which was nice. I'd like to keep nursing regularly for a year, then cut back to just morning and night nursing for a while, until he looses interest but not too late. I guess we'll just play it by ear.

•••••

Bee is doing just great - he's crawling! He started right before Thanksgiving and is now going everywhere he can. He's smiling and laughing and developing a great sense of humor. His latest thing is to try to eat your nose! He thinks it's great fun, and it's certainly messy as he's drooling a lot. He's teething; one tooth on the upper left has come in, but the matching tooth on the right has yet to make its appearance. He's adorable and sweet; just when we think he can't possibly get any cuter he does. Everytime we go out people tell us how adorable he is, and while we always say thank you, we're really just as impressed: we never thought we'd ever have a child this cute (indeed, I never thought we'd ever even have a child). We really like him and so glad he's in our lives.

••••••

The relationship with my mother has been much better, in that she's much more pleasant and talkative. Not having to worry about my brother is a tremendous relief for her, although she's sad that he's gone. I still need to keep my guard up with her, but I'm glad she's pleasant and taken an interest in her grandson.

My brother seems to have been visitng me lately. A few weeks ago, I noticed that the television was on when I got up early in the morning to pump. What grabbed my attention wwas that the TV was on video 2; we atch it on video 1, which is the setting for the Ti*Vo. This means that the televison is on with a picture but no sound, as the receiver wasn't on. I thought it was kind of flukey at first, but then I realized something else was going on. When it was on, I would talk to my brother. It was good to talk with him, but I found myself frustrated that I couldn't hear him. It wasn't on every day; I slept in one Sunday morning and it wasn't on then. I checked the timer on the TV, but the timer wasn't set because the clock wasn't set. On a Thursday morning, I spoke to the room and asked my brother if this was really him, to not put the TV on tomorrow, then I would know it was him. I was thinking this might be a way I could communicate with him, you know, ask him yes or no questions. The TV was on Friday morning, so I thought maybe it was just some weird electrical glitch. It stayed off for the next few days. Then I wondered if he didn't want to come back. I spoke with my therapist, who thought maybe my brother was showing up so that I could tell him the stuff I didn't get to tell him before he died. So during my therapy appointment on Tuesday, I asked him to come by, to let me know with the TV on so I could talk with him. Wednesday morning, nothing. Thursday morning it was on. I was happy and excited. I went into the living room, looked at the flickering light on the TV and told him I was really happy he was there. The television turned off in front of me. "Okay, I totally get it now, it's definitely you. Sorry I was so thick before..." I proceeded to tell him about how his behavior over the past 8 years bothered me, what he had done that hurt me. I hoped he had left his anger anrd bitterness behind him, that it was so important to let go. I let him know that I remembe him young and strong with hair, that I think of all the fun and good memories we shared over the years. I told him about my anger and frustration with my mother, for what she had done to him. I thanked hime for his very existence, for choosing his life which was essentially a sacrifice. He developed symptoms early in his adulthood. This altered our entire family to the presence of this disease. Because of this knowledge, we were able to prevent this disease from being passed on to the Bee. For that, I am eternally grateful and I told him so.

The TV went on several times throughout the day and hasn't been on since. I have a feeling that he'd return if I asked him to. I did tell him he's welcome into our home whenever he wants to visit, provided he doesn't bring any negative energy. I'm grateful I got to have that closure with him, and I'm really glad he came to visit.

••••••

I feel completely unprepared for Christmas this year. I can't believe it's on Monday. Still have to get a few presents, for Dad's partner, mostly. Other things I've ordered but they haven't arrived yet. We celebrated with my mom and SIL this past weekend which was very pleasant. It was pretty much the opposite of last year (she cried while opening our presents, didn't feed me anything (well, I did find a banana), and disasterized everything). So this year was a vast improvement. Saturday we're seeing my dad and his parner, then it's to my ILs for Christmas Eve. Christmas morning the three of us will celebrate then it's off to the airport to fly to aunt C's house. We'll be there until the 1st when we'll return to the Northeast. We're really looking forward to it; let's see how the muffin does on his trip.

•••••

I'm completely wiped and falling asleep while I type so I'm wrapping it up for now. I'll try to update again soon, and I wish you all a very happy holiday season.

Happy Holidays Around the Globe...

2006-12-04T13:08:00.000-05:00

Ms. Prufrock has a lovely holiday card exchange thingy going on. Click on over if you'd like to participate (deadline is this Wednesday, December 6th). I just signed up, so I'm looking forward to the holiday cards! Deck the halls...

The Seven Week Roller Coaster

2006-11-18T17:58:00.000-05:00

The past seven weeks have been intense to say the least. I haven't been able to post about any of it because Mr. Right reads this blog and it's something I've been keeping from him. I don't make a habit of keeping things from my husband, but I couldn't see making him worry without any substanital proof especially since he's usually a wreck about the state of affairs in the world today.

So... Here's what's been going on: My aunt, C, had her biochemical evaluation for ALD in 1994, which was negative. She's got 4 kids, all very healthy so we figured that was that. Her daughter, my cousin A donated the eggs from which the Bee is now the living breathing result. However... HOWEVER, in the back of my mind I knew that females can have a false negative biochemical result. The only definitive test for females is DNA testing. Since my DNA was tested a few years ago, we knew which nucleotide contained the mutation, so testing was only a matter of a blood draw. Finally, as my brother's life was drawing to an end, I asked my aunt to get her DNA tested, "just to be 100% sure." We had been discussing this for a few months, and naturally she had no problem with it. We waited fo the reslts, 5 weeks of waiting. I didn't tell Mr. R because I saw no need to cause him further worry, especially if it was negative, which we were pretty sure it would be. Well...

It turned out my aunt is a carrier. Which, not only has implications for her own children, my cousins, but for our Bee. Instead of waiting for my cousin A to get her test results in, (another 4 - 6 weeks), I had the Bee tested immediately. For males, the biochemical is definitive, but females need the DNA testing to be sure. Which means the wait time for the results would be significantly less. While this helped, I still didn't tell Mr. R. I knew he would be a total wreck waiting for the results, and crushed if it came back positive. So I kept it all inside. My aunt, her family, and my dad were the only ones who knew. Oh, and Luo Lin at Kaleidoscopic. I couldn't even share it with bloglandia because my husband loves my blog... I could just see him finding out that way...

When I had the blood drawn I did it early in the morning when he was at the gym. Unfortunately his iP*d went kaput so he came back early to find me and the muffin vamoosed. He called the mobile, and I told him we were at the lab having a bilirubin level checked because muffin looked a little yellow to me (maybe it was the lighting, yadda yadda...). I just wanted to spare him the worry. I was worried enough for both of us. So Monday the blood was drawn, the lab received it Tuesday, and the lab director said I could expect the results by the end of the week. Oh, what I went through, vascilating between confidence that he'd be fine and certainty that all we had been through was for naught; that he would be affected. I talked to my aunt that Saturday, and felt positive for the first time, like everything might actually be okay.

The lab director had been out on Friday, so he had been unable to let me know the results had been faxed to our pediatrician's office that Thursday. I called the pedi's office on Monday and they said that, yes they had received the results, but weren't sure what they meant. What?! Well, that couldn't be good. I mean, under impression it says "Negative" or whatever, or (for example) "C22/26 levels are elevated and consistent with hemizygote for adrenoleukodystrophy" So I'm figuring if they can't make it out, it's got to be the later. She said she'd fax it over. I stood and waited by the fax. Slowly it came up. Under impression it clearly stated: NORMAL RESULTS. I was so happy and relieved I frickin' cried. Then I called Mr. R into my office to tell him what had been going on. He had mixed feelings, worry and relief all at once. He was angry that I kept him in the dark, but grateful that I spared him the worry at the same time. Had he known, he wouldn't have been able to concentrate on anything. In the end, he realized I made the right decision for both of us; it was the right thing to do. Thankfully, gratefully, our Bee is okay. This is something I will be grateful for every day of my life, and that's no exaggeration.

We're waiting for A's results, but in the meantime my male cousin J had his test done... and he's affected. He's nearly 30, without any symptoms at all which is great. The problem with this disease is that it's usually misdaignosed; by the time the proper diagnosis is made, it's too late for any effective treatment. We're looking into preventative measures, to delay the onset for as long as possible. I will keep you all posted, with whatever findings we discover, so those with similar problems may learn from our research.

Gotta run, we're doing our Christmas tree and decorations. Mr. R asked what I wanted for Christmas, but of course my present has come early, and to be honest, I can't think of anything else I want or need. Mr. R can't either.

Musings on Motherhood

2006-10-06T19:44:00.000-04:00

Suz at Within the Woods had a wonderful post about the process of motherhood. I thought I was overdue for a post and this prompted me to get my act together because I've been ruminating on motherhood as well.

You know by now that my brother has been steadily getting worse. The degenerative neurological disease has certainly progressed and robbed him of his independence, his sight, his speech... My mother has been with my brother every day since this past May when things really started going downhill for bro. She'd work in the morning and be with him in the nursing home or rehab facility every evening. She told me she wanted to be there for him because she never wanted to look back later and say "I wish I had." This is also the reason she gives me for breastfeeding.

People would tell her to take a break, give herself some time, take care of herself (she was barely eating and lost about 20 pounds), but she said this was being a mother meant.

I admire her compassion and love for my brother, and I'm so glad she could be with him throughout his difficult journey, but I feel incredibly selfish and self centered for wishing that she didn't completely ignore me in the process. Not that this is unusual - in my family, you get special attention if you're ill or something is seriously wrong. My mother had her disability, my father had lupus, then heart disease (needing his first of three bypasses at 36); my brother had a learning disability in the 3rd grade, then developed symptoms of his disease at about 18. I was fine. In fact, I'm the only one in my family of origin without a handicap parking permit. For this I am exceedingly grateful, and I have never parked in a handicapped space knowing full well how important they are to those who need them.

When I was six I asked my aunt to carry me (I was tired). She was tired too, so she relied "Not right now." I fell on the ground and pleaded "But I'm crippled!" Shocked, she told me that being a victim for attention was no way to go through life - even though being sick or hurt got attention in my family, I would be better off being helpful, strong and independent. Okay, clearly she used different words, but that was essentially the message. I am so glad that I listened to her, although it cost me my mother's love and affection.

My mother and brother have always had a close bond; as they grew older it became a bit more of a co-dependent relationship but they were fairly inseparable. My brother always proudly proclaimed himself to be a mamma's boy and indeed his marriage was something of a threesome (if my mother-in-law had been that involved in my marriage, it would no longer be a marriage). It compounded about 8 years ago when my parents divorced. I committed an unthinkable act: I talked to my dad. My brother sided firmly with my mother, and I didn't side: I loved both of my parents but my mother's stance was a little extreme (an you're-either-with-me-or-against-me kinda position). She pretty much disowned me, but we've always had a rocky relationship. I was the difficult one because -gasp!- I had a mind of my own.
So my mother has always been partial to my brother. As much as she would deny having a favorite, her actions were always evident to the contrary.

It just seems to me that a healthy child shouldn't be neglected for one who is ill. I don't think that's good parenting. I doubt we'll have any more after the Bee so we won't be able to practice this, but it only seems right to treat siblings fairly.

What makes a mother? Is it conceiving, pregnancy and birth? Is it blood and DNA? These are certainly elements of motherhood, but I think the real deal comes in the rearing and nurturing. This is why adoptive mothers are, without question, mothers. I am absolutely Bee's mother, even though my egg did not help create him. I love him unconditionally, play with him, want only the best for him, cherish him, help guide and shape him. He is my son. I never imagined I could love someone so much! (And I love my husband loads!) I am thrilled to have the opportunity to be the Bee's mom. I am also grateful to have my aunt in my life; someone who has shown me what it truly means to be a mother. It still hurts that my own mother doesn't like me, know me and says awful things to and about me, but thankfully I have a wonderful woman in my life who has willingly and happily stepped up to be my mother, as she did many moons ago when my brother was born. My mother was too tired to take care of both of us so my aunt spent a great deal of time with me. She helped guide me and shape me; she loved me and played with me. (My mother did too, she was very affectionate with me as a child, although she was also very dramatic and told my brother and I that she wanted to kill herself. When we were six. Constantly. By the time I was 12 I realized she wasn't going to actually do it).

My brother passed away last Friday morning. I went to my mother's for the wake and funeral. It was so sad; he had so many good friends who really loved him and he will be sorely missed. I wish we had been closer, but he was so damned hard to talk to! He was argumentative and contrary - it was impossible to get a straight answer out of him on anything. He could be abusive and toxic; he was also uproariously funny and goofy, warm and kind. I miss him and the relationship we had years ago. I'm so sorry for his wife, his friends and my parents. He was a good guy who could be a real pain in the ass. But in the end I'll remember all the good things about him, the fun we had growing up, the stupid things that now make great stories.

My mother, surprisingly, sounds better than she has in years. I was concerned that she might just collapse after my brother died as he was her entire existence, but she sounds lighter, younger, more refreshed. It seems to be due to watching my brother decline and struggle over the years. Now she knows he's free and she's happy for him. She's surrounded by family and friends right now, so she's okay. I've let her know I'm there for her, that I'd like her to be a part of her grandson's life. She seems amenable to this so we'll see. But a large part of me is still hurt that I was cast aside for so many years. She was never really interested in our IVF attempts or m pregnancy. I know that in her eyes I'll always be second banana, never able to measure up to my younger and only brother. To her, I'll never be good enough, comparing me to a polished version of my brother instead of celebrating our differences. I'm not sure I want to subject myself to that, or if I want to accept whatever I can get from her. This is uncharted territory, so I'll have to see where it goes.

Whatever may transpire, I will forever be grateful that my mother's statement that "I am the only mother you will ever have" is erroneous. Although she did not give birth to me, my aunt has been a mother to me in ways I never could have imagined. I'm glad I have such a wonderful role model to be the best mother I can be for my son.

Just a Little More...

2006-09-13T18:10:00.000-04:00

Warning: This will be a rambling post... thanks in advance for your patience!

Many thanks to everyone who responded to the last post with advice on how to increase breast milk production! Sadly, nothing seems to be working and I'm sitting here fuming over it. Not at you lovely people, dear Internets, but my lactiferous ducts. Stupid ducts! I'm taking 5 capsules of Fenugreek 3 times a day. I'm eating. I'm drinking. I'm meditating, doing relaxation and visualization techniques. I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle. I'm saving all the milk to use in his rice cereal (yes, Bee has started solids! Well, very runny rice mush), because once I tried mixing it with formula and gave me a look that I read as: Woman, what do you think you are doing?! Do you realize you are putting that in my mouth? He loves it mixed with breat milk, so that's what we do.

Here's my milking diary: I get up at 6 am and pump. The Bee gets up about 8 am; I nurse him, then feed him rice cereal. After he gets cleaned up, he gets some formula and/or diluted pear juice. I go to work, then pump every 2.5 to 3 hours. I nurse him again in the evening, feed him some more cereal, then nurse him/give him some formula/and maybe some more juice before putting him to bed between 8 - 9:30 pm.

Problems arrise when I'm working and I'm furiously trying to meet a deadline - pumping gets put off, 30 minutes here, 45 minutes there. We're short an illustrator, so I'm doing a lot more work. Our new illustrator starts Monday (also my 36th birthday - yay me), so I'm happy to have some one to pick up more of the work - this is also a busy time for us. As you can tell since I haven't updated in a MONTH.

Speaking of months, I also got my period yesterday. HAPPY JOY! Wow, I haven't missed this. And I haven't had my period since July 5th of 2005. I'm not on the pill, so I'm bloated and crampy. And I have no idea how long this will last. And, I understand milk supply drops during your period. So that's a big help.

Frankly, I blame Boston. Everything was great with my supply until I left for Boston. I was getting 8 to 12 oz. at my 6 am pumping session, now I'm incredibly lucky if I get 6 oz. This morning I got just shy of 5 oz. At the Boston seminar, I was running upstairs in the hotel to nurse Ben in between the sessions. So I wasn't pumping at all - this was for 5 days. It was a busy meeting; our 5th wedding anniversary came and went. Mr. R was working on a presentation he was giving at one of the sessions so we postponed celebrating. We haven't designated a date to celebrate it, but we figure it will be sometime... before our 6th anniversary.

So. Just wigging about my milk production. It just seems to be getting worse, and I'm not ready to give it up. I'm not sure what els I can do, but thanks for reading me vent and ramble.

My brother seems to be in the home stretch. My mother called in the morning on September 1st to tell me that the doctors didn't expect him to last the weekend. I drove out 2.5 hours to visit with him at his nursing home, and was just shocked when I got there. He had aspriation pneumonia and the rattling in his chest was so pronounced. I didn't think he'd last the night. I said what I wanted to say to him (another post for another day), told him not to be afraid. I told him I was happy for him to be going home. It was so sad to see him that way. He's still plugging along; he's lost his sight, but he's on mophine and resting comfortably. I just hope he goes soon; I can't imagine many things worse than being trapped in a body that doesn't work. I'll update as the situation evolves.

One of the worst things was being around my mother. For the first time in only God knows how long, my mother, father, brother & I were in the same room. It wasn't good. My mother just seems to bring out the worst in everyone. My parents argued, and my mother was so angry and bitter towards my dad. It was sooooooo uncomfortable. I actually forgot how miserable I used to be living at home. I forgot how unhappy life was. I've been so happy, living on my own, and sharing my life with Mr. Right and now with the Bee that I just forgot. I tell Mr. R all the time that I never dreamt I could ever be this happy, but I forgot how much I truly mean that.

My mother is still insisting that I've said things I never did, and I realize that no matter what I say or do to try to convince her otherwise, her edited reality it firmly entrenched in her mind. So that relationship is another losing battle. All I want is to be civil. I'll take that.

I hear the Bee on the monitor crying awake from his nap, so now is the time to feed my sticky little wicket more rice cereal and have a little playtime before bedtime.

Lunch Date with a Pixi

2006-08-16T16:06:00.000-04:00

Ooooh, I was very fortunate to be able to meet Pixi for lunch while in Boston for a conference on August 4th. Firstly, she is glowing and absolutely gorgeous. What a lovely woman! So friendly and down to earth. It's great to meet another fellow blogger IRL. I'm so happy for her and her husband, getting ready to welcome their little wee one soon! Lunch was lovely - mushroom tortellini with goat cheese (we both ordered it). I'm looking forward to hearing about her shower. It's so nice to hear success when one has been struggling with recurrent miscarriage. My fingers are still crossed for everyone else...

Bee is doing great, but my milk supply seems to be dropping off, which causes me great concern. I didn't pump while I was at the conference; we brought the Bee with us (along with my Father-in-law to keep an eye on him while we were attending worksops at the conference). Instead of pumping, I went to our room to nurse him in betwen sessions. Since I've gotten back, I'm getting 6 oz. first thing in the morning, and then 1 to 2 oz. every 2 hours during the day. I was getting about 9 - 12 oz in the morning, and 3 - 4 oz. every 2.5 hours. So, little concerned there. I am making sure I'm eating enough and drinking, and getting enough rest. Just wigging quietly... (Well, maybe not so quietly - I discuss this with Mr. Right and C several times a day). Bee's urine output seems to be down, too, but I'm not sure if I'm imagining it. He seems satisfied after he nurses, but I supplement with formula if he's still hungry and I feel "tapped out." Any advice on pumping / increasing my supply will be wholeheartedly welcome...

My brother came down with aspiration pneumonia so he's now in a hospital. He's responding well to the antibiotics and out of ICU. They'll insert a feeding tube next, and my parents are actually talking (to each other!). Of course, my mother had sent my dad a card inviting him to call if he wanted to discuss my brother's condition, then was pissed that he didn't call right away. Now that they're talking, she complains that he calls. Impossible to please that woman - that's why I gave up when I was 16. Apparently, she prays the rosary with my brother and watches the Rosary channel with him. I cannot imagine worse torture for him (NO offense to Catholics or to fans of the Rosary); my brother was not remotely religous... Monster Garage is more up his alley. Gotta tell my mom that, but she never returns my calls.

My cousin who donated her wonder eggs just got a 4.0 in her first semester in Physical Therapy program. She's doing really well and sounds happy - I'm so glad for her! She moves next week to the new campus for fall semester. I know she'll do great!

That about wraps it up for now. Upcoming, I have a wonderful story about how I put my foot in my mouth with my new neighbor, and insane family drama - with the e-mails to prove it. Glad I see my therapist tomorrow evening... Hope you all are well!

Have been up since 2:30 this morning: Bee awoke, and after 30 minutes of happily chatting to himself, seemed annoyed. He had rolled on to his back, so I put him back on his tummy and told him he really needed more sleep (after praising him for his fine rolling work). He went back to sleep immdiately. I got insomnia. Tossed & turned for 30 minutes, then got up and watched the end of Six Degrees of Separation, Mr & Mrs. Smith, pumped 6 oz, showered made breakfast and got to work. I tried to nap this afternoon, but sleep eluded me there, too. I was at least able to rest, so that helped. Thanks for the prompt comments, lonna and mm! : )

The Beginning of the End

2006-07-27T21:27:00.000-04:00

The good news is that the Bee is going just great... at his pediatrician's vist this week he weighed 13 pounds and 6 ounces, measured 24.5 inches long and has a 16 inch head circumference. About 50th percentile all around (normal is good! We're happy with normal)! He's sleeping though the night (usually 8 - 12 hours), can roll from his belly to his back, can pick up toys with one hand, hold it with both hands and put it in his mouth.

He's smiling a lot (especially in the mornings), and I think I got to hear a bit of a laugh tonight. He's a darling boy, and I still wake up every morning grateful as all git out that he's here in our lives. Still stunned that I'm his mother. Still can't believe it, but so incredibly happy. He'll be 4 months old on Tuesday, August 2nd - our 5th year wedding anniversary. A better gift I cannot imagine.

The bad news is that the disease is progressing in my brother. I saw him this past weekend when we brought the Bee to my mother so she could see her only grandchild for the first time. We drove out to the brain injury rehab facility where my brother's staying until August 1st; after that he'll move back in with my mom and require 24/7 care.

Seeing him was a real shock. We saw him in February when he was in a nursing home. While he looked like hell on toast, he could talk, drink, smoke and laugh. This vist was quite a bit different. He couldn't effectively use his arms, and had little if any control over his hands. He said the word "yes" once, but I couldn't hear it standing 4 feet away from him. He has difficulty swallowing, so he's on pureed foods and all of his liquids must be thickened. He can nod his head yes or no, but the movements are very slow and difficult to discern. He can't really express emotion, although he did raise his eyebrows twice looking at the Bee. He had a pouch made from a section of his small intestines which now drains his urine in a bag (his constant severe urinary tract infections led to this option). He has difficulty focusing his eyes due to his decreasing muscle control. I think that pretty much covers it.

For a little back story, my brother and I fought like cats and dogs growing up. We were never close, but once I went away to college we became closer, which was nice. He called me up on a Saturday night in my 3rd year in a bit of a panic because he thought he might be gay, and I was touched that he trusted me enough to confide this dilema. (My solution? No need to panic, say yes to the cute guy who asked you out and figure out now if this is for you or not... don't have a midlife crisis 20 years from now because you're not sure. As it turned out, it wasn't for him, but at least he sorted out his feelings instead of repressing them).

When my parents split up in 1998, it really polarized my family. Initially I sided with my mother because she was so [manipulative] pursuasive. Eventually I met with my father with the attitude: "Oh yeah? What's your deal?!" When he spoke, a light bulb went off in my dim brain and I remembered that, oh, right... there are two sides to every story. My brother, who lived with my mother, had to listen to her cry and sob every day, chanting litanies of what a bastard my father was. He came to hate my dad, which is a shame, because my dad certainly loved him. My mother felt betrayed because I had a relationship with my father; if I were a good daughter, I'd take her side and cast my father to the winds. So it kind of became my mom and my brother on one side with me and my dad on the other.

My brother and I grew distant since that time, largely due to his harrassments. It went like this for about six years: 1. I'd say something to my mother. 2. She'd misinterpret it to be a personal attack on her. 3. She'd cry to my brother about how hurt she was. 4. My brother would call me, threatening "to make your life a living hell if I even thought you're was being a bitch to mom." 5. I'd clarify my statement to my brother. 6. I'd call my mom and clarify my statement to her, and tell her the next time she thinks that I've said something hurtful, to please call me so we could talk about it. (She would always promise to do this, but she never did).

This repeated over and over again for six years. And not once did I ever say something deliberately mean to my mother; I'm just not that kind of a person. So I stopped calling my brother, stopped answering the phone...opting to screen the calls because I never knew what kind of mood he'd be in.

My brother was always a pessimist, much like my mother. He loved to surf, and losing control of his legs was devestaing for him. He continued to surf on his knees for as long as he could. My dad suggested kyaking, as it's all upper body control, and he told my dad he'd rather die if he couldn't surf. The disease progressed to his waist and stayed there for several years. He was so angry it was really difficult to be around him. He said he felt that he should be able to treat anyone any way he wanted and they should just take it. He mouthed off to Mr. Right, and Mr. R just gave it right back to him. My brother respected that, so he stopped. My cousin L, however, was a softie and couldn't stand up to him so he would verbally lambast her everytime he saw her. He was pissed and let everyone know it. He maxed out his credit cards because he figured if he died, he wouldn't have to pay them back. He was working as an insurance adjuster and would deny claims because, as he said, "Life sucks, get used to it." He denied a claim once because he didn't like the attorney (someone we'd gone to elementary school with who had picked on him). He was collecting disability while he was working; once Social Security found out, they starting billing him for the $40,000. he had collected over the years he was working. Then he lost his job and couldn't get another one, due to a criminal record (broke into a police impound yard to steal a light off of one of the cars. When he was 26). He couldn't walk, so he figured, why bother? It angers me to see him now, so very limited, and to think of all that he could have done with his upper body while he had the time. But he never would have, because he just wasn't that kind of person.

I'm sure many of you will find me cold or insensitive. It's not every day you read of some traggedy happening to someone who's just plain onery. It's usually some nice guy or girl, siblings who have a loving or close relationship, someone who was talented or accomplished or had so much going for them. People who met him later in life remembered him as that "bald, skinny, obnoxious guy in the wheelchair." The person I grew up with was a bit of a fuck up, but he was funny, warm, generous, moody, but generally nice to be around. The person I grew up with died slowly, years ago and I never even got to go to the funeral.

I hope that my brother goes quickly, because I know he hates what's happening to him. That's the worst part - his body doesn't really work but his mind is still there. I'd love for my brother to be free. I think he's done enough time. I don't want for him to go on being trapped in his useless body.

What's funny is when I was little, I used to wish I was an only child (usually when my brother would break something of mine, or tease me or we'd have one of many daily fights). However, had it not been for my brother's very existence, we never would have known about this disease. I would have had children, never suspecting that I would have passed this horrendous disease on to them. We wouldn't know until my children started having problems. Perhaps that's why he chose this lifetime. Maybe it was a sacrifice, maybe for further advancement of his soul. I'd like to think so; I'd like to think there's some worthwhile reason for his miserable condition. Either way, when we parted, I told him "I love you, and I thank you for everything you've ever done. I owe you one. Big time." Then I kissed his cheek and left.

Anyone Want to Move In?

2006-07-08T13:11:00.000-04:00

Well, I've removed the pictures, but I can describe what we've done to our bathroom. White marble tile on the floor with small black marble accents, real wood panels on the walls, an old refurbished cast iron sink and Kohler fixtures. New white washer & dryer. The shower was gutted, with waterproof cement board put down and new tile & marble shelves. We had a new tub insert placed into the old tub, becuase we found out that reglazing it wouldn't have lasted as long. Could you guess that we totally love our new bathroom? My in-laws have threatened to move into it. That would just be sooooo fabulous...!

BTW, don't feel too bad for me regarding the embryo situation - I've gotten my jackpot. I'm luckier than I ever thought I could be, married to the best man ever and with a wonderful new son. It would have been a nice bonus, but trust me, I'm not getting greedy. I'm so grateful for all I have. Bee has learned to roll over! He's 3 months, 1 week and 2 days. (See? The counting never stops). This annoys him (the rolling, not the counting) to no end, because he hates to be on his back. We give him lots of tummy time, so this has helped him build up his back and neck muscles. Yeah, we're pretty much just smitten with the little guy.

Frozen Embryos: The Good & The Bad

2006-06-30T14:23:00.000-04:00

As it turns out, we do have frozen embryos. That's the good news. The bad news is that the three of them are 1) a female carrier, 2) an affected male and 3) indeterminate due to DNA degeneration. So that's that. We were wildly hoping they were from the donor cycle, but, oh well. They apparently lost the paper work that we signed stating we wanted to donate our unused embryos for research, so we're signing that again and sending it over. Anything that will help other couples trying to start familes, go for it!

Next up: Bathroom pictures. We're pretty sure that we now have the nicest bathroom in our town.

We interrupt this saga...

2006-06-07T13:38:00.000-04:00

... of my fabulous labor & delivery story (yes, there's actually more) for this little tidbit.

I received a bill today from my clinic for embryo storage. My first reaction was "Hey! We don't owe this $$, we have no embryos in storage!", followed quickly by a more subdued "we have no embryos in storage."

I have never wanted to owe money more in my entire life.

Upswing: grateful as all get out that we have the wonderful little wee one we do, who turned 2 months old last Friday. Now it's back to work for me!

Curse You, Magnesium!

2006-05-12T19:13:00.000-04:00

I took quite a while to dilate - I seemed to hold on to 4 cm forever, then I suddenly jumped to 7, then 10 at around 4:00 am on Sunday, April 2. I started pushing, which was tough between not being able to feel due to the epidural, and feeling drugged, due to the magnesium. Gosh, I wanted so badly just to be alert for the birth! We used a mirror so I could see my progress, but the magnesium also relaxed the muscles in my eyes so it was hard to focus. I do recall being concened about pushing so hard that I would break blood vessls in my face, but I avoided that occurence. The nurse said I was doing great, which surprised the hell out of me. How on earth could you tell? She put her finger in my vagina and said "feel this: it's your baby's head!" I felt the top of his head with my hand - I couldn't believe it was there, or that I could feel it. I just couldn't get anywhere trying to push it out. Mr. Right was quiet throughout this whole thing, and the nurse made a comment about it, probably because she's used to expectant dad's cheerleading their wives (which I think is great, BTW). Mr. R told me later he was quiet because he was concentrating on my vitals, the baby's fetal monitor strips, what the nurse was doing, what I was doing... making sure no one made a mistake.

By 7:00 am my OB came back and told me to take a nap, then push again in 20 minutes to see where we are. I was so exhausted, that yes, I napped during labor. The last hurrah went nowhere, so he told us he'd like to do a C-section. I said - "by all means: go right ahead!" I also asked him that while he was in there, could he please perform a tubal ligation. I had thought about this for months and decided this would be the most practical approach. If we were going to get pg again, it would need to be through IVF, whether with my eggs or with my cousins. I couldn't bear the thought of needing to terminate another pregnancy due to an affected or carrier baby. I never want to go through that again. Hence my decision, and after explaining this to my OB, he said he would certainly take care of it.

The got the team ready and brought me into the OR. I had always hoped to be able to see the baby being born, but not only did they have the screen up, I couldn't lift my head due to the magnesium. I felt so out of it. Thankfully Mr. Right was there on my right side and could relay the events as they unfolded. He said that as soon as the Bee's head "popped" out of the incision, he was crying and his lower lip was trembling. Bee was delivered, cord cut by the doctors, and whisked away for tests and to be cleaned up. When I first heard him cry, I cried too. It ws awful not being able to see him. So much for starting off bonding. It was terribly uncomfortable when they stuffed my uterus back into my abdominal incision - Mr. R said it was surreal to watch this, and he was glad I couldn't see.

After they put everything back in it's proper place and tied my tubes, I remember being in the recovery room. Mr. R brought the Bee over for me to see him - he was so fuzzy becase I couldn't focus clearly. I couldn't even speak properly, my toungue was heavy and I had such a hard time controlling any of my muscles. Later, when I started to nurse him, I could barely make out his face. Now that was frustrating. My in-laws were there, and Mr. Right called my Dad, who came down right after his 10:00 am service and brought me roses. People were happy and excited, and I ws so relieved he was healthy (9 & 9 apgar scores, can't argue with that), but I felt so strange. Sad, that this little being was no longer inside me, discarded because biologically, he didn't come from my egg. I wondered if Mr. R's parent's would be this happy of the situation had been revsersed and we had used a sperm donor. (I voiced this to Mr. R later and he assured me that they would). This feeling did wear off, but it was a little unsettling there for a while.

The magnesium didn't wear off until Tuesday night, and my MIL stayed with me during the day to help out - Boy was I grateful!

Wee one is crying for his supper, so we'll catch up again later, shall we? Be well!

Best Laid Plans...

2006-05-10T18:16:00.000-04:00

Well, as I am pretty much back at work and the muffin is sleeping yet stirring, I thought I'd fill you in on the whole delivery thing.

I was due on April 10th, and I was kinda hoping he'd be a bit late because I still had so much to do. My mother-in-law threw me a fantastic baby shower - I was really flattered - but it was March 19th. That's cutting it a bit close for me, but for whatever reasons, that's when she decided to do it.

After I discontinued the baby aspirin in the 36th week, I started having elevated blood pressure readings at the doctors. My legs and feet were swollen, and I could only wear pants, as I was extremely limited on footwear. A friend send me some great comfy maternity dresses, but I couldn't wear appropriate shoes, so I stuck to my jeans and black pants. No problem.

My OB kept an eye on the blood pressure, but then I started to register protein in my urine. On March 22nd, my OB ordered a 24 hour urine collection. I saw him on the 31st, and he was still waiting for the results. If he didn't like them, he wanted to induce me right away.

When Friday evening came and went, we figured no news was good news. Saturday, April 1st Mr. Right & I planned to run some errands then come back and work - I had a case due on Monday and he had some projects for work that needed completing as well. The next day we planned on going to Babies R Us to pick up some stuff we still needed. About 9:30 a.m. we received the call from my OB: unfortunately, the levels of protein weren't good. The hospital could take me for an induction at 12 noon. this was not an April Fool's joke. Ummmmm...

Okaaaaay... not really prepared for this, but what are you going to do? We ran around a little frantically to try to get things in order. My bag had been mostly packed except for the daily toiletries, but I still felt tremendously unprepared. We drove to the hospital excited and nervous; couldn't belive this was happening! Little sad I wouldn'tstart having contractions on my own and have to tell Mr. R "Honey, it's time." But, again, what are you going to do?

I'm going to quickly go though my "birth plan" and tell you what I was kinda hoping for in a delivery. I wanted to be able to walk around, and use the jacuzzi if available (just for relaxation, not delivery. I wanted to feel the contractions, but wanted an epidural before it was too late. I wanted Mr. Right in the labor & delivery room, I was hoping to avoid an episiotomy (we started doing the perineal massage, which was actually pretty painful in and of itself, but helpful). I wanteda mirror so I could see the Bee enter the world. We wanted for Mr. R to cut his cord, for them to lay the Bee on me for that skin-to-skin contact and for him to nurse as soon as all the necessary stuff was out of the way. Formula: not an option. Breast milk only for my boy! So that pretty much sums up what I thought my delivery would be like, although we were open and flexible. Bottom line: we really just wanted a healthy mother and healthy child.

We did get our bottom line, but the path getting there was a bit more circuitious: They gave me pitocin to induce me, but also gave me magnesium to prevent seizures and keep my blood pressure down. I asked the nurse how it would make me feel, and she responded with: "the worst you've ever felt in your life." I actually thought she was joking. The magnesium relxed my muscles. The pitocin caused the muscles of my uterus to contract, so it was quite a balancing act.

For a while, I couldn't even tell I was having contractions. We had to check the fetal monitor strips to find out. My in-laws were in the room, as well as my Dad & his partner. Nothing was going on, so it was a nice visit. by around 8 pm, nothing much was developing, and I think everyone was getting a little bored and hungry, so they all left. I asked my OB if Icould walk around and was told no. I said " I thought walking was good for-" "Not for you." Again, apparently v. important to keep the blood pressure from rising. Jacuzzi was also out. I was dilating rediculously slowly. When I was about 3 cm, the pain started to really kick in. After talking with my doc, we decided to wait until 4 cm for the epidural. I am a huge baby when it comes to pain. I went through a labor once before with nothing but morphine, which just made me sleepy, so I was definitely going with the epidural. After reading Suz's account I was a little nervous, but the doctor did a great job and it went off without a hitch. Except that my blood pressure plumeted to 55/20, and I nearly passed out. Mr. Right was a little panicky, but the nurses treated me calmly and cooly and had the situation remedied within a minute.

Muffin is now starting to get antsy, so I'm off like a herd of dirty turtles. More to come, which is good as this is pretty lengthy anyway. : )

Yes, the Bathroom's Done Too, But Here's The Other Project...

2006-04-06T18:39:00.000-04:00

Firstly, I am so wiped and exhausted, I hardly know how to dscribe it. The problem is, I'm tired, but not sleepy. If I were sleepy, I could fall asleep, hypothetically.

We were induced (due to onset of pre-eclampsia) on Saturday, April 1st. Baby Bee was born into this world at 8:52 Sunday morning via C-section after numerous hours of labor, 3 of which were spent pushing.

Holy cow - he is perfect. 7 lbs, 20 inches long. He's great, we're home, I just wanted to keep all you fabulous internets posted - thank you all so much for your inqueries and comments. Details will follow once I get some sleep and can see the monitor clearly.

Because No One Really Needs a Toilet in the Ninth Month of Pregnancy

2006-03-12T18:08:00.000-05:00

Nose is on the mend, by the way, but the point of this post is to describe the stages of our fabulous bathroom renovation. Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!

The window and molding are new, which we did when we moved two and a half years ago. Everything else is as it was. How about that blue tile? Do you love it? Well, it's gone now. The last picture with the large white cabinet shows a washer & dryer hook up. This is handy, and we've picked out and purchased the appropriate washer and dryer to be delivered on the 25th of March. My mom offered to cover this expense, which I appreciate and have thanked her for.

It's been about 3 weeks, here it is with the tiles removed:

What's with the wood on the walls, you ask? Ah, this is all part of hubs' master plan for a swanky bathroom. He spent an entire day working out the mathematics for the panels... Here's what we're looking at today:

Very exciting, I agree! Ooooooh, I love the paneling!

So what's next? We've ordered the tile; once that comes in early this week the shower will be retiled, then the floor (which has been taken up to the subflooring). Then, the carpenter comes back to put in the base boards. Then the painters come in to paint. Then the sink and toilet can go in. And to top it all off, the washer and dryer will be delivered on the 25th, when everything else should be all done.

So, things are happening at casa RvE. We have a toilet in our office downstairs, so thankfully we have that to fall back on. The tiles should go in this week and I'll update when that happens, with pictures, naturally. I may even throw in a picture of my belly, which hubs took today. It leaves out my head, which is the way I prefer my photos, as after many years of surprise I have finally accepted that I am not even remotely photogenic. That paneling, however, simply lives for pictures. More to come!

Damn Your Nose! (Too Late)

2006-02-27T15:07:00.000-05:00

Was thrilled to get an appointment with an ENT today to have the extensive packing removed from my nose. This was a very good thing, although my left nostril felt a bit raw. The kind doctor proceeded to put more stuff up my nose (numbing agent in anticipation of a fiber optic scope). When he removed that, there was a little fresh blood on the tip. The scope revealed a broken blood vessel on the inferior aspect of my left lower turbinate. And by the way? To say having a scope shoved up my nostril was unpleasant is like saying a compound fracture is uncomfortable. Once the scope was removed, he then proceeded to cauterize the blood vessel in question. Again, this was more pain than I had anticipated. My Lamaze classes are going to need a lot more practice. (I smell epidural....)

I don't know if any of you have ever had a silver nitrate applicator applied to any part of your body, but it's fairly painful. Having it inside a nostril, which is an incredibly sensitive area, was terribly painful. I was kinda hoping the marshmallow packing stuff being removed would be a relief, but the whole cauterization thing was far more intense. This was done at about 1 pm. It's now about 3:15 p.m. EST, and the pain felt like it was diminishing, but I'm wrong - it still hurts like a bitch.

Also saw the OB today. He felt bad that I had such a crappy weekend (really, it could have been worse). My uterus is measuring a wee bit on the small side, but I'm already being monitored via ultrasound and that's all normal, so my OB isn't too worried. He still wants to see me back next week, just to stay on top of my blood pressure. Today it was 136/78. The bottom number is fine, but the top is a little high for me. Thankfully it's down from my time in the ER.

I'm exhausted after a crappy night's sleep due to spontaneous nasal stuffiness (now I can breathe! Now I can't!) and Mr. Right jumping out of bed at 5:20 a.m., ticked off after not having slept a wink (poor guy). All my urgent work is done today, so I'm going to take a nap. I'll do more when I wake up.

And the bean? He's jumping, all right. That's my boy! A kicky, squirmy, little muffin. He's 34 weeks today. Just stay in there another 6 weeks, growing big and strong. Please, just stay another 6 weeks, and let everything be okay.

Bleeding, Just Not From Where You'd Think

2006-02-25T20:40:00.000-05:00

Friday night we had a late supper of homemade broccoli soup and corn muffins. We lounged on the couch and watched the rest of Kinsey on the TiVo, which we enjoyed.

At about 10:45 p.m., I felt a little wet trickle from my left nostril - Happy joy! A nosebleed! I got some tissues and pinched my nose the way the What to Expect book instructed. Checked back in 5 minutes, still bleeding. Repeat four times. Mr. Right got very concerned and his protective mode kicked in. He wanted to bring me to the hospital but this was only my 3rd nosebleed ever (the 1st one lasted 30 min., the second, which was earlier that week, only lasted a few minutes). I said to give it just a few minutes more, it would probably stop. After continued flow and coughing up blood clots the size I haven't seen in ages, we decided he was right...time to go to the hospital.

We arrived at the emergency department at 12:07 a.m., and were seen shortly after that. They took my medical history, BP (147/88) and sent me back with a nurse. Still bleeding. They gave me a little basin for my blood clots. This came in handy because Mr. R kept making me laugh, which dislodged the clots. After being examined by a lovely pleasant doctor, they decided to pack my left nostril. Which involved numbing said nostril and sticking some kind of foam thing so far into my nose, I was truly shocked. But not as shocked when they told me it would need to stay in for three days. Three (3) days. They ran bloodwork, urine tests, which were all negative. Thankfully, no protein in my urine (yay!). They did an ultrasound of the Bee, who kicked and squirmed and displayed a fantastic heart rate. The kind doctor lady called my OB to confer, who said I could go home, but he wanted to see me Monday (this was terribly convenient, as my 34 week appointment was already scheduled for 2 pm on Monday). I was also instructed to take it easy. Which brings me to today.

I've just chilled out today, napping, reading, and baking brownies. I just came into the office (which is right downstairs from where we live) to check on an e*bay auction to see if we won shades for our bedroom (yes, we did! Yay for saving loads). As it's been a while I thought I'd update with the lovely story of blood and mucus. Gladly, I have not had any recurrent bleeding. When upright, my right nostril seems to close completely off, but thankfully if I lie down on the right side, it opens up and I am rewarded with unobstructed breathing.

Mr. R will be back soon. We were supposed to go to DC today to pick up a refurbished cast iron pedestal sink as we are completely redoing our bathroom. He wanted to stay with me today, but with our schedule I sent him off: "What are you going to do? Watch me sleep? Go pick out a sink! This is the only day we have to do this!" I heard from him about an hour ago, mission accomplished and he'll be back shortly. Yay! Missed him oodles, but glad we can get on with the whole bathroom thing. I'm 8.5 months pregnant, and we have no toilet in our bathroom... you do the math. Soon to follow, pics of the renovation in stages! Mr. Right's organizing and scheduling everything, which he's really enjoying. I'll just take the pictures. I'm going to go home and be stuffy there. Later, gators.

Happy Valentine's Day

2006-02-14T12:42:00.000-05:00

I was just reading April's blog and it got me thinking of the ghosts of Valentine's Day past. I've had my share of ups and downs for VD, so I'll share what this day has meant to me over the years.

When I was in high school, I dated the same guy for three years (freshman year to the beginning of senior year). I worked in a florists after school, so I sent him a dozen sterling roses every year for his birthday and valentine's day. He never got me flowers, reasoning that I worked in a florist.... why would I want more flowers? He was a clod, and treated me terribly. Thankfully I began to develop some self esteem and broke up with him. Sadly, he tried to hang on to me for dear life and I remained terribly claustrophobic in relationships for nearly a decade.

In college, I started dating a guy who I met through mutual friends and was six years older than myself. He was funny and kind and we got along very well. We had only just started dating when Valentine's Day rolled around. I sent him a postcard. He sent me a dozen white roses. I was floored, as I had never received flowers before. It was a rush, and all my friends wondered what I had done to get them. We hadn't even gotten serious yet, so it certainly wasn't sex. We had a nine month relationship and had a nice mutual break up (we were both virgos). We still keep in touch, and I e-mail him every so often.

In my second college, I dated a guy who was not a great match for me, and I can't remember what it was about him that I loved, although at the time I thought he was pretty hot. I ordered sterling roses for him and made him a card, like from actual wood pulp. He dumped me. I was upset, mostly because I was the one being dumped; I certainly didn't think the relationship had staying power, but no one likes being rejected.

I dated another guy in college who was hot and we got along well; we both enjoyed Hellraiser graphic novels and watching creepy movies. For Valentine's Day, I conspired with one of his housemates and made him dinner, which we ate off of the floor, picnic style. I got him silk boxers, and he really enjoyed the gesture, so that was a nice day.

For my first Valentine's Day with Mr. Right, we were still just roommates at the time. I had come out of an unpleasant relationship, and Mr. R was a good friend from college and my new roommate in a new city. I was really looking forward to our Love Stinks VD to watch Robo*Cop and maybe order in some Chinese. At the last minute, this girl he had kinda been seeing called and asked him if he wanted to go to dinner (translation: take her out to dinner). He went and I stayed at our apartment in a pissy mood. His best friend, whom I had met once before, called and he cheered me up. We just bashed Valentine's Day and love in general, and wowed me with his Christopher Walken impressions. Perhaps not as great at the Love Stinks VD I had hoped for with Mr. R, but it did the trick.

Since being with Mr. Right... and April 21 will be our 10th anniversary together... everyday is like Valentine's Day. We don't go nuts for VD. Usually we do cards, flowers and dinner. I asked hubs what he wanted to do and he replied "Just to have a nice dinner out and spend some time with you." Now, keep in mind that we work together, so we're around each other every day. Granted, I do have my own office, but I miss the times when we worked out of one room and we were right next to each other. It's funny that I miss him, even though he's in the next room. Equally funny is that he misses me too. [Feel free to be sick any time, folks.]

There are times, due to work and deadlines, when we've had to postpone Valentine's Day to a day more in keeping with our schedule as opposed to the calendar. We went to the Russian Tea Room on one of these occasions, which was just fantastic. So sad they closed down.

This morning he presented me with a vase of tulips (which I absolutely love) and a card filled with the most lovely sentiments. I gave him my morning card, and I have another one I'll give to him later tonight at dinner. We generally don't do gift things, unless there's something really special that one of us wants. Being ever practical, I enjoy this approach. ; )

Mr. R has done so many lovely and romantic things for me since we've been together... I save all the notes he writes me, and these aren't even the shmoopie notes. I have one on my desk telling me to 1) Call my Dad and 2) Call Lauren at home, because he drew this cute little happy bee on it, with tiny little shoes on his wee bee feet. I mean, really! How can one discard that? I save them all, with their little illustrations or love notes. The most touching card he ever gave me for valentine's day was 2 years ago, during our first IVF cycle. In the card he drew our two little embryos and captioned them: "We promise we'll stick, mom!." I get teary thinking about it now... That cycle didn't work, but the sentiments expressed still mean so much... Ah, when we were new to IVF and filled with hope.

I love when we listen to Frank Sinatra and he sings "Luck Be a Lady" or I Get A Kick" to me with mad gesticulations... it always cracks me up and makes me feel special at the same time. I'm stunned that he looks at me every day like he can't believe I'm in front of him, and tells me how absolutely beautiful I am. I am not hot, so you know that this is clearly the love talking, but I know he means it. Then he tells me the rare find is a girl who's into geeky stuff (Star Trek, Sci-Fi, Horror), is hot, but doesn't know she's hot. Apparently meaning me. I'm just glad he thinks so.

Shmoopiness and romance aside, he is also the most dependable person I've ever met. I trust him implicitly, with everything. He's handy around the house and does not believe in the word "can't." He's talented, funny, patient, passionate, and my favorite person in the world. I can't imagine starting a family with anyone else but him. He'll be a fantastic dad. And on top of all of this, he's hot! He doesn't think so but he is. I've had friends tell me, and even people I've just met, so this isn't even my bias. Still makes my heart race and my toes curl.... gotta love that in a man.

Sunday morning we awoke to about a foot of snow. Inside, we woke up at nine and stayed in bed, cozy under the covers, talking and laughing until noon. Then we made a fantastic breakfast, put together the changing table and hung the roman shade in the Bee's room. It was a lovely, lazy, perfect day. Every day I awake and see his sleepy, smiling face is Valentine's Day. Instead of cheapening the day or the experience, it makes every day that much more special.

I hope you all are having a lovely day today, however you recognize the occasion. So now it's your turn... Please share what you'll be doing (or not doing) to celebrate Valentine's Day, or antecdoctes of years past. Feel free to go long. I'm sure Blogger can afford the bandwidth. ; )

30 Down, 10 To Go

2006-01-30T13:33:00.000-05:00

Holy cow, we have reached the 30 week mark today. Stunned and delighted, I am. This may not be shocking, I guess, but every day that goes by without incident is a good day; indeed, a gift. So things are full of joy, here at the R v E household. Yay!

Last Tuesday's appointment went very well. The Bee measured at 3 lbs., 2 oz and gestational age was calculated to be 29w5d; 4 days ahead of schedule. I find this kind of funny, because with a baby conceived via IVF, there's just no question as to the date of fertilization. So I guess he'll be a fairly good sized baby. My right uterine arteries are still notched, but the left are doing great; in fact, my placenta likes the left arteries so much it has moved over there. So, I started out with a posterior placenta and it migrated over to the left lateral side of my uterus. Where the blood is. So that's a good thing, and it explains why much of the little wee bee's movements are in the lower left quadrant of my abdomen: he's usually head down, with his back along the right side of my uterus, hands in the lower left and feet in the upper left. Well, as long as he's comfy. The perinatologists don't seem to concerned, but want to see me back every 4 weeks just to stay on top of things and make sure problems don't crop up. I'm mightily relieved that they take such a proactive approach to pregnancy. I'd much rather the consistent monitoring than trying to react to a problem that has developed due to lax monitoring. Snapshot is posted down at the bottom of this post for those of you wanting to see the cheeky monkey. I'm also including a ticker - Oh, I had to get one - when the hell else am I going to be pregnant? I've got to enjoy this while I can!

With the advent of the third trimester, I have found that puffy feet are the rule, not the exception. The swollen ankles are really impressive and I found that my feet hurt a lot, which Mr. Right attributes to my weight gain (about 20 lbs so far). My new best friends are the TEDS support hose which are supposed to force the retained fluid back into my lymphatics and blood stream. They mostly work... mostly. What works the best is exercise, but as I do that in the early morning, my feet are back to their usual puffy selves by evening. Well, you can't blame a girl for trying...

I did have a spectacular nosebleed on Saturday evening. I say spectacular because it was also my first. I knew this could happen during pregnancy and is in fact fairly common, but was still a bit unsettled that it took 30 minutes to stop the bleeding. I called my aunt, who said that if it didn't stop soon to call the doctor. Fortunately, it resolved while I was on the phone with her. She said not to do what she did, which was wait a week before going to the doctor. (!) A week?! She didn't think it was a big deal because she had nosebleeds as a kid, but everything eventually wound up being okay with her. Thank goodness, because the woman is the brightest ray of sunshine. The ringer on my cell for her is "Ode to Joy", because she's a tremendous joy in our lives, and we know how lucky we are to have her. Hello C!

Thank you all for your lovely comments on my last post. I can't tell you how much they mean to me, and I'm always surprised when they arrive. Your kind words of encouragement have helped me tremendously. I know that some of you are going through very difficult times yourselves, so it always amazes me that in the midst of your own agita you can root for someone else, too. Thank you kindly, ladies and gents. : )

Commencement! (Finally)

2006-01-21T19:46:00.000-05:00

I know it's been quite a while since my last post, but we have been utterly swamped at work. I'm not complaining; we were slow over the summer and into October to the point of anxiousness. We've had lulls before, for about two week stretches, but never for several months. I doubt I'll ever complain about being busy again - it's just a fact at this point. So our flurry of activity has kept me from keeping up with your activities and keeping you up to date on my own. Without further ado, the good news:

My cervix has graduated. Throughout the testing and biweekly monitoring, my doctors are satisfied that it's not going to do anything inappropriate. We are quite relieved on that front - it's a good thing.

On December 27th, they performed another Doppler and found that my right uterine arteries have still not quite stepped up to the plate. Our chipmunk measured very well (picture is posted below), and in fact measured 4 days ahead, so thus far intrauterine growth restriction isn't a concern. We will go back to the perinatal center on Tuesday for another Bee check to see how his size is coming along. I'm still not very big (at the onset of my 7th month), which of course makes me a bit nervous that growth restriction will be a problem. It doesn't help that people keep commenting that "Wow! You're really carrying small!" Depending on how the scan goes on Tuesday, I will either welcome these comments, or want to smack people in their foreheads. We shall see, but I am hopeful.

We had our orientation at the hospital today, which was neat and exciting, now that we get to do this "for real". Mr. Right hates hospitals, so he's trying to use this experience to associate good things with hospitals so he won't dislike them so much. I've always liked hospitals, because to me they were the places where they fixed things (like my dad's heart, my arm, etc.). I wonder what is will be like to actually give birth to a child... I know we're supposed to work on our birth plans; ultimately, all I really want is a healthy child and healthy mom. Everything else is just a bonus.

I'll be 29 weeks on Monday, and it still surprises me that I am actually carrying a wee child under my heart. Even with the swollen ankles, puffy feet, maternity jeans, clear skin, and occasional kicks in the cervix. When the Bee does that, I usually ask him to move a bit and kick somewhere else if he feels like stretching out. He always does, and I tell him how appreciative I am of that. Makes me feel good that we're off to a nice start. He'll likely be an Aires, so I'm sure we'll have our hands full. At this point, I am so grateful to have gotten even this far that I won't mind that a bit. So Bee, kick away. But just keep in mind if it gets painful, I'll ask you to shift just a little and kick me somewhere a little less sensitive.

I promise to check in on you all and see what's going on in your lives, and input whenever appropriate. I hope you're all well. : )

Of Cervixes and Coffee

2005-12-13T19:57:00.000-05:00

Had another cervical check this morning, and I'm oh so glad to report that it continues to do it's job; that is, it's staying tightly closed even under pressure. The Bee's heartbeat was 145, which was right on target, as was the size of my uterus. After everything we went through to try to get here, we're incredibly grateful that this pregnancy has been fairly uneventful. My acne, has, in fact, cleared up beautifully and I am currently enjoying a complexion unseen since before puberty. The scars are still there, but no new events. So yay for me!

On Saturday I had the delightful pleasure of meeting up with Thalia for coffee, although it wound up being yummy salads. She was such a lovely and graceful person and I feel privileged to be able to meet her IRL. That was just so neat. Regrettably I was terribly late but Thalia was rather gracious and I sincerely appreciated it. I'm not very experienced at navigating Manhattan traffic, but I held my own and made it in and out just fine.

Work has been busy; Mr. Right is working on a very long term project which requires him to work 16 hour days until the deadline is met. The deadline approaches this Friday, but it appears that will need to be extended. We're working with several off-site illustrators to get this project completed, and it's just a tremendous amount of work. The client has been thrilled with the work that has been produced thus far and is a bit flexible on the date they receive their project, so that is helpful. That means I'll be traveling to my Dad's alone this weekend to celebrate his birthday and Christmas, but I'll still have fun (although I wish Mr. R could join us). I visited my Mom's for Christmas this past Saturday (large part of the reason I was late for my meeting with Thalia), which was the complete opposite of fun. However, lucky you, I met with my therapist last night to discuss so I don't need to vent all this crap here. To be honest, I actually get tired of talking about it. A tremendous pet peeve of mine is complaining about problems but not fixing them. If I have a problem, I want to figure out how to remedy it; I don't want to sit here kvetching about it endlessly. It's annoying as hell, to me included! So yay for therapy!

That's one of the aggravating things about ART; here you have a problem and you're so desperately trying to fix it, but aside from doing all you can, there's nothing else you can do. A lot of it is trying and then playing the wait-and-see game. This is a problem we would do anything to fix, but you get to a certain point where it's out of your hands. I'm really hoping 2006 will be a better, more fruitful year for everyone. May you all have the families you so desire. Until then, I'm happy to read about all your journeys towards parenthood.

May the Force be With Us All

2005-12-03T12:17:00.000-05:00

****Disclosure: Baby Info in this post.****

We went for our big ultrasound on November 25th, at 20w4d. All went well so we were naturally very relieved. The Bee is measuring right on target and looks good. He "waved", kicked and swallowed, which was just so incredibly cool to see! The only minor problem was that my right uterine arteries have not grown as large as my left. They're going to keep an eye on me and prescribed baby aspirin once a day. Then it's back on January 6th to take a look at the Bee and see how his development is coming along. I spoke with a friend of mine who's a medical malpractice paralegal who told me it's not that unusual, and that the body will usually overcompensate wherever it's lacking. He's also a dad to two girls and has gone through a miscarriage, so I trust him. That put my mind a bit at rest. And of course I'll be back on the 13th so they can make sure my cervix is continuing to so it's job. So far it's long and tight, and the internal os is staying closed. So! Good news from the cervical front. The perinatal doctors are just fantastic there. After they look at my cervix, they're always excited to look at the baby and get his heart beat. This is the same hospital where we terminated the Bee the first time, so everyone there is so happy and really pulling for us. It's a lovely environment. In fact, the doctor who delivered the good news about our 20 week scan was the same physician who performed the potassium injection, so to be able to tell us that our baby looked perfect and healthy really made his week. What a lovely moment for us all.

It's truly amazing that there is a wee person growing inside of me; sometimes I still can't believe it, although his movements and kicks are getting stronger and hard to pass off as anything else. There are just not enough words in the human language for me to express how grateful I am to be here, with our wee little Bee growing inside. Mr. Right is so incredibly sweet, and has been an extremely attentive husband and dad. He asks me if I'm enjoying my pregnancy; that means a lot to him. What's not to enjoy? I have some minor symptoms of pregnancy: swollen legs, ankles and feet (which when I awake are magically thin again! Well, relatively thin...); itchy red bumps all over my body which come and go but that's pretty much it. My dehydrosis is acting up, and the prescription ointment is a category C drug, so the hell with that. I'll be a little itchy, but it's not like hives, not unbearable. We tried so hard to get here that my attitude is: just let the baby be okay. This little person who we haven't met yet is very much a part of our lives. That's one of the reasons we wanted to know the gender so we could bestow his name. He's not here, but still a person, and we'd like to address him as such.

We've looked at baby stuff, but couldn't buy anything yet. I'm sure I'll get there eventually... Just not yet. Other people, however, have been really generous. Some friends lent us their 2 year old crib, which looks brand new and is gorgeous. She also gave me some maternity clothes, baby monitors, some toys and has some more stuff for us once the baby gets here. The lady who does my laundry gave us a whole bunch of 0-3 months baby clothes, freshly laundered. My mom has sent some things - CDs, wash cloths, t-shirts, a frog night light. Gramma C has made us a quilt and crocheted a blanket, hats and booties. They're all adorable! She's also sending us an old time pram which has been in our family for years. I may just use it as a bassinet, and can roll it around our apartment. My ILs bought a bunch of baby stuff pretty early on, all these amazingly cute little outfits. My MIL also found some things that were Mr. Right's when he was a wee lad. We're really happy to have all these things, and touched that these people thought to send them.

I've got to run, this time for fun - after a week of getting up at 6 a.m. and working until 10 - 12 midnight to meet deadlines, a friend of ours is coming to visit for the day. Mr. Right is still working - his project is due in two weeks, so he'll need all the time he can get between now and then to get everything done - but we'll pick him up for dinner. Our friend & I will grab some lunch at my favorite tea room, wander around the neighboring town shops and maybe catch a movie. I can certainly go for Goblet of Fire again. Must print out movie times...

Have a great weekend, everyone. Wishing only the best to you all. Manuela, good luck with your 2ww. Let's hope Han is The One. May the Force be with you. Always.

Just What the Hell is Going On?

2005-11-20T15:25:00.000-05:00

Okay, this post has been brewing for a while. I've been busy with deadlines, and in between, keeping up on the usual blogs I visit.

I have not been happy about what I'm reading.

It is sad and disheartening to constantly read about everyone's trials and tribulations, and I'm going to name names.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not complaining about your problems. I'm just so sad that these things are happening to you all. I have never met any of you IRL, yet I read your words, which often times are things so raw your blogs are the only place you can really get these sentiments out. So while I may not know you, I am reading your deepest, darkest ickiest stuff about the most intimate details of your lives. This makes an impact on me; in a way, I do know all of you, I'm reading and I'm empathizing.

Thalia just went through her first round of IFV, which didn't work, which she got to find out through the early arrival of her crimson bitch. The beta came back at 5, just to kind of hammer it home in case the cramps and blood left any doubt. Well, that absolutely sucks. I'm hoping the numbers go down and this clears up so she can try again, with better results. How about that? Is that too much to ask for?

Manuela is embarking on her first IVF round (Yay! Go Manuela & Atilla!) which is exciting, but also dealing with the aftermath of being adopted...No small thing to shrug off. Who needs this agita? Yet there it is, to be digested and dealt with, like very dry bread. You have my support... You seem to be a strong and self possessed woman and no doubt the challenges throughout your life have contributed greatly to your abilities to adapt, but I'm wishing you a vacation nonetheless.

Katie and her Partner have just gone through their first round of IVF, which failed. It's such a perfect thing to do... Partner is being stimulated and the embryos are transferred to Katie to bear for the nine months. When you're a lesbian, I couldn't think of a more lovely way to start a family. I just want it to work for both of you. Please don't give up. Try again when the time is right for you both.

Kath has had to endure yet another miscarriage. Such a tease at life, taken away without an answer as to why. It must truly be maddening, I just don't know how you cope. Yet what is the alternative? Completely losing it? Not much of an alternative, although I'm sure there are times when we all must think and feel that we're a hair's breadth away from just snapping. Please hang in there and try to get some rest. I'm glad you're keeping busy - it's a fantastic way to deal, but treat yourself well.

My heart also aches for Katie in NY. With both male and female IF factors involved, they recently went through their first IVF attempt with the needed benefit of a grant. Horrifically, the attempt failed and they were informed by their RE that there's really nothing else to do. If that doesn't sound hopeless, I don't know what does. It's just ridiculously unfair.

mm had her latest IVF fail, with a laundry list of varied attempts and complications behind her. Is this really necessary? Can't someone cut this woman some slack? And in dealing throughout all this crap, she's still able to post savory recipes. More power to you, hon.

Amyesq. is trying to cope with the obscenely slow process that is International adoption. Yes, she'll be a mom...Someday...And I'm sure the wait is agonizing.

Fisher Queen has had the fantastic news that she qualifies for financing that will cover the costs of 6 IVF cycles for the price of 1, with a money back guarantee. While this is very good, it wasn't too long ago that things were looking bad. Who's to say if things can turn from bad to good they can't turn back to bad again? Ah, infertility uncertainty! Couldn't you just die? I'm keeping fingers and thumbs crossed for you (as well as everyone else in my little diatribe).

Karen has also gone though Heck trying to bring a little wee one into this world with no results. She is adopting her daughter Maya from China, who hopefully she'll be able to meet this Spring. Of course there could be a delay, too, but what's a girl to do? Her dad just had a quintuple bypass and is recovering. I guess fate just wanted to throw her another ball, just in case she got relaxed with the whole adoption thing. Because you know how easy it is to "just adopt."

Emily seems to be losing hope in the battle against infertility. I hope there is a solution out there for her, and soon. It just seems like this constant, ever ending uphill battle sucks the life force out of you. I can't imagine why... Hey universe - how about a little help? Hello...?

April, as of Friday the 18th of November has had spotting and bright red blood on day 8 after IUI. I'm hoping to God it's just implantation bleeding and not the end of her dreams. Can't a girl get a break?

Vivien is very new to the wonderful world of blogs so we should give her a lovely welcome. And what brings her to Bloglandia, you ask? Why, finding a way to process her 5th miscarriage. I'm so sorry, dear. Support groups didn't do much for me, but the support I have received from these women (and seen given and received all over Bloglandia) has been an incredible source of comfort. We're here for you, too.

This is aggravating for me because I don't know why such a fine group of women, who all so clearly want to be mothers with the best possible intentions have to face such difficulties. Of course it's not fair, and not one of you deserve it. But deserve has nothing to do with any of this. For whatever reason or bizarre fluke, this is what you've got to deal with. I cannot begin to tell you how much it hurts me that you must struggle with this on a constant basis. I'm so very sorry, but I am there... For you all. It's amazing that Bloglandia has yielded such a fantastic support system. Thankfully, we can all write about what we're going through, and so many wonderful people come out of nowhere to offer kind words of support, wisdom, sympathy, empathy. It really does help. I just wish we could offer more; wave that magic wand and - hey! Look at that! You're pregnant! And it's not going anywhere for a good nine months! A healthy child for you to love, rear and guide throughout it's life. I can't understand that you all who so very want a child, and would be great moms can't quite get there, and there are unwanted and unloved children being born into this world by parents who regard these little miracles as burdens. How the hell does that work? I'm sorry, I'll just never understand it.

I've never been in your shoes, any of you. I am not infertile, I don't know what it's like and I can't pretend to understand. We are not in the same boat, and I don't presume to be. I only know what it's like to deal with my own situation.

I clearly remember attending a baby shower for a cousin (let's say, Stacey) in 1999. This is a girl who has a lot: multi-millionaire parents with a company she'll one day inherit, a nice husband, pretty, nauseatingly thin, and was the standard for my mother to compare us to growing up. As she sat at her shower, a kind, sweet girl surrounded by family in her stylish outfit, not having gained an ounce that wasn't baby, my eyes welled up and I excused myself to the bathroom where I threw myself a little pity party. I cried and couldn't even imagine myself in a similar situation. Mr. Right and I were on a break, I knew I would have a challenge having a healthy baby, and just never thought I'd ever be happily married and expecting. Being there was a reminder of what I didn't have, what I didn't know, couldn't know I'd ever have. It was just painful to have that rubbed in my face. Of course, R & I got back together and married in 2001, with a relationship better and stronger than it ever had been. But throughout TTC, every time we saw a baby, it was a reminder of what we so wanted but didn't know if we would ever have. I hated people saying "Don't worry, it will happen." Oh, really? Will it? And you know this how? Are you privy to the secrets of the universe? It's amazing that people give this statement as support. They just can't imagine how aggravating it is. Of course if you try to tell them, you're just being hormonal or irrational. Damnit to hell!

I am, gratefully and most thankfully pregnant. I'll be 20 weeks tomorrow. Yet I would not be here without the gracious donation my cousin A made of her eggs. Okay, so I'll never have a biological child. I'll never get to see what a combination of mine and my husband's features or traits will yield. I'll have to hide a smile if anyone tells me my son has my eyes. Or shrug if I'm told he looks nothing like me. (My prepared answer for this is "look at my husband: he doesn't look anything like his parents"). Big deal. As my therapist has said, I placed a priority over having a child and that was to have a child without the disease I'm a carrier for. At this point, my husband and I know how lucky we are, how fortunate and how blessed to have even gotten this far. I will never forget it, because geez louise! it was hard. So I am one of the very lucky ones. I know it and I'm grateful every day.

What I really wish for in my heart of hearts is for all the rest of you to join me, by whatever means will work: IUI, IVF, egg donation, adoption - anything. The saying misery loves company is true, but so is the inverse: Joy loves company, too. I would like nothing more than for all of you to achieve the joy to have what you have all worked so very hard for. That is my wish, and it will remain so until you all have what you desire. Until then, I will continue to hope and pray for you all. I don't know if that will work, but reading your blogs has brought tears to my eyes and made me laugh out loud. I just wish I could do more to help. Good night, and good luck.

17 Weeks, 2 Days

2005-11-02T11:45:00.000-05:00

That was where we were in our first pregnancy when we terminated. It was such a horrific experience, to willingly end our son's life that I will take steps, via tubal ligation, to make sure it never happens again. The nursing and hospital staff were wonderful and sensitive, as well as my OB, but no one ever wants to be in that position, trust me. I joined a support group, once, but it was for mothers who had lost their children before or shortly after birth. This was not the same thing. I felt dreadful for these women, because to miscarry a child and not know why is maddening. We made a decision and carried it through. It was bitter and painful, but we know we did the right thing. In the news letters I get from the prenatal loss organization, there are letters to the children they've lost on various milestones - birthdays, Christmasses, etc. I cannot do that, because to think, 'he would have been a year today', or 'what would he be doing now', or 'he'd be starting school today' would also have to be followed by 'When would we start to notice?' 'Would the symptoms have started to show now?' 'When would he have started to need a wheelchair?' 'When would the vegetative state start?' 'How long would he last?' And the reason we ended our son's life before birth was to prevent him from living a life in a body that would be come a prison for him. A short, miserable prison.

Do we miss him, our little Ben? Every day. I wish with all my heart that he had not had this cursed gene. But he did, and we did what we felt was right. Because I know that were we to see our son suffer in such a way, we would do anything to change it, take it away, prevent it. And that's what we did.

Today I am 17 weeks, 2 days pregnant with my second son. This child will not have the disease we have tried so hard to prevent passing on, because my cousin was so generous as to donate her eggs to us. She is not a carrier for adrenoleukodystrophy. Our son will not be condemned to die a slow painful death, at least, not from ALD. Sure, there are other problems in our family that will crop up: vison impairment, heart disease, cancer, alcoholism. We're not looking for a genetically superior child - we just wanted to prevent this one, terrible thing from being passed on. My child will not have my DNA, but that is such a tiny price to pay to ensure my son will be ALD free. A price I'd gladly pay again and again.

Mr. Right is somewhat 'sensitive' to things that are not seen or heard in the normal course of events. Two nights ago Mr. R had a visitation from Ben, who told him that he, Ben, wasn't ready for the first body but he was ready now.

You may take that with a grain of salt if you wish, after all, we have no proof. I have had visitations myself (only two), and it is quite different from a dream. It's hard to explain; one of those things that you need to experience to understand. I know that I would like to believe it and I choose to do so. Of course, I've seen enough of Mr. R's feelings and intuitions to see how many times he's been right. We're thrilled that our son's soul is coming back to us, into a body that will be better equipped for whatever it is he needs to accomplish in this life. We will give him the name we intended all along. Its his, after all... Our little Benjamin. [Henceforth referred to as "the Bee."]

Good Cervix! Now Stay....

2005-10-31T20:00:00.000-05:00

We went on Friday to the perinatal center at our hospital for our ultrasound and incompetent cervix test. (Can't study for this one, kids!) While monitoring through the fabu dildo cam, the doctor applied pressure to the fundus of my uterus. What they're looking for is the amniotic sac to balloon out into the internal os of the cervix (that's the part that's closest to the uterine cavity). Happily, my compliant little cervix toughed it out and stayed all tight and closed. Good for her! Now we need to go back every two weeks to check up on her and make sure she's doing her job, at least through the 26th week.

I'm 17 weeks today and felt the wee one for the first time. It felt a bit like gas, except that I know my intestines are not where my uterus is presently, so it must be the wee one. They also did a scan of said wee one, who looks great. Wee, and small, but not Mexican (reminiscent of a joke a heard once, I forget the comedian). The baby bee was fairly compliant, and revealed all to us...That's right... We have a BOY! Not that it mattered to us, we'd be just as excited if we were having a girl. We're just thrilled that we're even expecting a baby who won't have this stupid disease! Yay! So there you go. I suppose it's convenient that everything in the baby's room, which was once the guest room, is in shades of blues and greens. We had painted the walls a gorgeous pale blue in anticipation of actually having a child one day, as blue is relaxing and soothing. Girl or boy, they'd have blue walls. With white trim.

Everyone was happy to hear the news, although my mom was slightly disappointed because she bought a whole bunch of adorable little girl outfits on sale at Talbot's. She couldn't resist, and figures now she has gifts for baby girl shower presents. See? It all works out.

I showed my dad the ultrasound images, which actually gave him the icks. This is not surprising, since my dad has quite the weak stomach for all things medical. He can't even look at most of my work as he turns promptly green. He's still very happy for us.

My in-laws are just thrilled, and my father-n-law says that when our son is old enough to go trick or treating, he'll go along, dressed as whatever the baby bee is dressed as. He's a sweet man and will make a good grandpa.

Our trick-or-treaters are done here, which is good because we're down to our last three pieces of candy. Mmmmm...candy. Gotta run, I hear Reeses peanut butter cups calling my name... (or maybe that's just gas).

Newsflash! My Mother Appears to be Happy!

2005-10-24T15:20:00.000-04:00

Mr. Right & I traveled to my mom's house the day after the previous ultrasound image was captured and presented her with a copy in an envelope. We took her and my aunt out to lunch to tell them the big news. Now, normally for some there might not be apprehension involved, but this is my mother, who is entirely dependent on other's emotions, specifically my brother's. If bro is in a bad mood or has had a bad day, so has mom. If he's doing okay, then so is my mom. But that co-dependent relationship is a whole other ball of wax.

I was planning on telling her one way, when Mr. R asked for the envelope (please). I handed it to him, which he then handed to my mom and said, "I think you're going to want to see what's in here." She opened the envelope, looked at the ultrasound, looked at us and said "Oh! Are you pregnant?" I said yes, and she practically cried she seemed so happy. So this was a good thing, because my brother had a bad morning and we weren't sure what kind of reaction we would get. We weren't expecting such a happy reaction, but we were rather relieved. She asked if my father knew, and I told her that yes, he knew, but we wanted to tell her in person. Aside from a tantrum from my brother, it was a fairly pleasant afternoon and little stress was experienced.

Sadly, my mother invited my (other) cousin A over the next day, when she proceeded to grill her for five minutes: "You knew, didn't you! You knew! while giving her the evil eye. My poor cousin kept asking what my mother was talking about, a little taken aback at the vehemence at mother's tone, until mom finally believed her, and then showed A my ultrasound picture. My cousin was thrilled for us and my mother finally apologized. She thought if my father knew, he must have told my aunt, who would have told A. The only thing my mother hates more than someone thinking ill of her is People Knowing Something She Doesn't, even though she keeps secrets just for the sake of keeping them.

So far she's been behaving, and has even sent a gift box of cute things she's bought for the baby. While she wouldn't help with the IVF costs, I sincerely appreciate her helping out for the baby. With my mom, I've learned not to expect anything, but I'll take whatever I can get.

For those cooters who have moved on, was sharing your news a universally happy announcement? Or were there some eggshells that needed soft treading? I'd love to hear of you're so inclined to share.

So I've Got That Going For Me, Which is Nice...

2005-10-12T18:42:00.000-04:00

Forgive me for the lag between posts, but have no fear - all is well. Work has just been picking up, and when I'm about done for the day, I'm fairly famished and can think of nothing but food. Thank you for inquiring, but I'm okay, and so is our little baby bee. You all are wonderful (my few yet fabulous readers!)

We had an Ultrascreen, a screening test performed in the first trimester to test for the likelihood of Down Syndrome and two other Triploidys. They take a number of measurements from the ultrasound, then take some drops of blood and put them on a card. Apparently all went well. My risk factor went from that of a 22 year-old to a 20 year-old. Thank you, cousin A and your healthy eggs! So that was good. However, I did find out that I am at risk for developing an incompetent cervix.

Why, you ask? Well... Let me tell you! And this may be an eye opener for some of you. It was for me.
I had some cervical dysplasia found on a pap smear in 1999. After a colposcopy, I had a LEEP procedure to remove the offending cells. I asked my doctor prior to this procedure if it would interfere with my ability to carry a child, to which he replied, "Not at all." Okay...
Well, when I went on Friday, September 30th for the Ultrascreen, I was told by the very kind doctor in the Perinatal Center that they were going to keep an eye on my cervix. Due to my prior LEEP, I was at risk for developing an incompetent cervix. See, it turns out that surgical procedures involving the cervix will put you at risk for having an incompetent cervix. The tremendous upside to this is that since they will be monitoring my cervix (starting October 28th and every two weeks afterwards via our favorite dildo cam), they can put in a cerclage if there is a problem. That's right, they just sew the cervix shut until 2 weeks before the due date. It's amazing, because most women don't know they have an incompetent cervix until they miscarry. What an awful way to find out. Thankfully, this is at least something they can keep an eye on.

I know that many women are rather familiar with the transvaginal ultrasounds - oh, excuse me - dildo cam, having gone through numerous ART attempts. Some are bothered by it, some just ignore it. After five rounds of IVF, I feel neglected if I'm not offered one. Anyone else find that odd? What do you think about this particular mode of imaging?

More on the Dad Story

2005-09-22T13:38:00.000-04:00

I left out in our first installment that my father was diagnosed with heart disease at 36 years of age. At the time, the doctors told him there wasn't anything they could do for him. He should just continue to take his medication and take it easy. Being 36, this didn't sit well with my dad. He did some research and found Dr. Co*oley in Texas to perform a bypass. So my dad had his first bypass at 36 years of age. His second bypass came at 45. He's had a number of angiographies and angioplasties throughout the years.

After I began talking to my dad again, he called in 1999 to tell me he would need a stent placed in one of his cardiac arteries. Upon hearing this, I offered my company immediately. He was fairly taken aback, because he was calling to ask my advice if he should ask my mom to join him for the trip to California for the surgery. After listening to my mom spew horrendous muck about him for the past year, I thought that might not be the best idea. So off to CA we went. On the plane, he divulged two items of information to me: he showed me a picture of a handsome man he had been seeing who was also a deacon, and that he was planning on being ordained a priest, having been a deacon since 1987. I was happy for him on both counts and let him know. Sensitive guy my dad is, his eyes welled with tears. He told me he was worried about my mom finding out he was going to become a priest because it was something he felt so strongly about, and he knew she had a tendency to slander. Because I didn't trust my mother either, I didn't share that info with her. As for his beau, D was someone who he met at church after my dad moved from NY. He is a sweet, kind, loving man, who has an unsettling tendency to never throw anything out. We love him and consider him a part of our family. In fact, we asked him (once he was ordained a priest), to perform our wedding ceremony. We couldn't ask my dad - he would have cried throughout the ceremony, which he did anyway. I thought it was endearing!

My father now has his own church, his own apartment and is still together with his partner. I've never heard him sound so happy and relaxed, and he is a constant source of support and comfort to me. We talk on the phone several times a week, and we're going to see him this weekend. Bless his heart, he reminds me to go to church, even though he knows we're spiritual but not religious.

My dad says he would like to be called "Grand-pop", which s just fine. D is still thinking about what he would like to be called. e decided to call my aunt Gramma, and her partner would like to be called "Unchi" (oon-chee), which is Sioux for grandmother. I think that's the cutest name ever! I love that. (She's not Sioux, but has studied the culture and language).

So that's my dad's tale. There are lots of little horrific anecdotes from his childhood, but I guess that's it for now.
Stay tuned! I'll return with more on the little wee chipmunk (who is 11 weeks and 3 days today)!

So... About my Dad...

2005-09-05T18:34:00.000-04:00

My Dad is 61, divorced, and a gay priest. Time for a little background. He was born in D.C. to a histrionic mother and absent father, who worked on steam ships and wasn't around when my dad and his sisters were growing up. Dad was diagnosed with lupus when he was about 10. My grandmother carried on, screaming that he was going to die, and screeching to my aunt 'Marge' "why couldn't it have been you, you ugly pig!?" Years later, once he moved out of his mother's house, his lupus went into complete remission. Hasn't had a lick of a problem since, which leads many in our family to believe it was probably psychosomatic. Auto immune diseases can be psychosomatic, so this isn't really too far of a stretch.

He married my mom at 25, when she was 29. She knew he had lupus; she also knew that she had MS (what the doctors at the time believed her condition was), but told my dad that no one knew what her symptoms were from, becoming symptomatic at 24. My dad said he liked my mom because she was beautiful, kind (a nurse), fun, and really listened to him; he thought she really 'got' him. My mom liked my dad because he was handsome, well mannered, polished, came from good breeding, had style, knew how to really cut a rug and was funny and sociable. Seemed like a good match at the time...

Flash forward to about 20 years later. My dad remembered, during a therapist's appointment, that he had been sexually abused repeatedly as a child. It seems that sometimes, my grandmother would join my grandfather on the ship and they would sail to Europe and go on vacation. After my aunt B, who is 10 years older than my dad, married at 18, my grandmother would find someone - anyone - to baby sit my dad & aunt M, who is 4 years older than my dad. This would usually involve buying a bottle of liquor and asking someone dodgy to "watch the kids" for a month or so. You do the math.. This person would then use my dad and my aunt in whatever way suited them at the time. I'm sure anyone reading this would be horrified at the prospect of doing this to their child. Well, this is what makes you a good parent, and my grandmother an unconscionable one.

When my dad went through this in therapy, it was really quite a blow - he kind of went through an identity crisis, grew his hair long, got an earring, leather pants, and asked my mother to go to therapy with him, so that he could figure out how to process this. To which my mother responded: "It's your problem, not mine; you deal with it." So they were unhappy for the next 9 years. Eventually, my dad got so miserable, he figured out that if he had 5 years left to live, he wanted them to be happy. After drawing up the courage over the following year, he finally told my mother he wanted to leave. My mother, who had been just as miserable as he was, didn't take this very well. Now generally, you just don't leave a Scorpio. It's dangerous, and you should have an escape route/alternate identity planned out. Generally, I'm just saying. My parents went back and forth, his lawyer, her lawyer. She filed for "cruel & unusual punishment", but after quite a while, her attorney finally convinced her to file irreconcilable differences, being that my father did not, in fact, deliver any cruel and unusual punishment. That's just how my mom perceived it.

Now during this time, I lived fairly nearby to my mom. She called me everyday, crying and wanting to die. My heart tore for her. She told me how awful my father was, what a bastard, and because my mother is convincing to the last, I believed her. After many long months, my father contacted me to get together and meet. I had no interest initially, but eventually we agreed to meet in NYC. My attitude was, fine - what do you have to say for yourself? When he did talk, I realized, embarrassingly, that there are always two sides to every story. I realized that my father was not a bastard, not a cruel man, and he told me what he had to say without once speaking ill of my mother. I quickly realized who the cruel manipulator was in my family.

Long enough for today, the tale will continue...

It's a... Chipmunk?

2005-09-02T15:54:00.000-04:00

I swear. Had an ultrasound showing a fetbryo that looks exactly like a baby chipmunk to me, which is adorable of course. The amniotic sac looks like it could be the tail... Hey, I'm just saying. What's really funny is that when my dad told his sister that the baby looks like a chipmunk, my aunt asked, seriously, if maybe they might have mixed up the embryos. First of all, this is one of the funniest things I've ever heard (really, what would a fertility clinic be doing with chipmunk embryos? Even if they were infertile, surely they wouldn't be able to cover the thousands of dollars in fees?) It does make one wonder. Second, my aunt is so nice and sweet that this statement is hysterical without us laughing at her. She says thing like this sometimes, and really, I just find it endearing.

In other fronts, I went for my very last appointment at the fertility place today. I felt like I was graduating; I kept thinking I should get a certificate. I brought in Dunkin Donuts for the staff, because everyone has been lovely to me and they're always so friendly. They really appreciated it - I got the impression that donut deliveries don't happen very frequently. I can't imagine why...

The poor girl who drew my blood dropped the vial. On the floor. Where it broke. I felt terrible for her. And the woman sitting next to me who got squeamish over the sight of all the blood. The phlebotomist then tried a vein on the other arm, but missed it. I just told her to use the original vein but go up a bit higher. That did the trick. Poor thing; mistakes happen, and I certainly wasn't upset... It definitely made my last time memorable! She probably felt mortified that the other patients were looking at her, hoping she wouldn't be the one to draw them... Shit does happen, I told her not to worry about it. Then I told her to go get a donut.

They just called in my results, and my progesterone is low: 12, down from 19 on Wednesday (I've been off the injections since Tuesday). They've just called in a prescription for Prometrium 200mg tabs, which I take (vaginally! Yay!) three times a day. I also found out this will cost $187.00. Whoo hoo! I have a mail order pharmacy, but I need to start the meds tonight, and the mail order takes about a week. So when I get the Rx fulfilled at a local pharmacy, I pay up front and then get reimbursed for 80% in about 2 weeks, which isn't too bad. Time to bust out that miles card!

So Far, So Good! And Bile to Boot!

2005-08-24T14:14:00.000-04:00

Well, color me happy and tickle me pink. Everything is moving along...Really well. What a tremendous relief! Aside from waiting 1.5 hours for my ultrasound (new doctor who likes to spend time with his patients), everything was great.

My progesterone was good: 25, and my hCG was 93,359 (I really just ask out of habit, now). The heart rate was 146, and the length was 13 mm, although the doctor said he might be a mm long, which is still fine. I have finally been cleared to have decaf coffee, chocolate "in moderation" and sex. That's right - I have been not just without sex, but without orgasm since July 26th. I can't remember when it's been that long, if ever. My poor dh, he was quite happy to know we can finally get back to a little fun, but I was happier; after all, his "special moments" don't contract my uterus and risk threatening our little wee one getting all snug as a bug in a rug. So now that's no longer a risk apparently.

I'll stay on the 1 cc of progesterone until Monday, when it will drop to 1/2 cc and I'll discontinue the estrogen and baby aspirin. Then just one more visit next Wednesday and I'll be free to go to my OB. I've already e-mailed him (including the pic) and asked him when I should set up an appointment. I just love that I can communicate with my doctor via e-mail. He's a sole practitioner and has a small staff - everyone is just lovely there. When he induced labor with Ben, I was on a liquid diet. I was jonsing for a lemon ice pop, but they were out. He went down to the cafeteria and actually bought me a lemon ice pop. He's a kind man, and a great doctor. We're lucky to have found him.

So. That's all the good stuff. Now I would like to take this time and space to do a little venting.

Here's the background: my brother is 33 and recently married to K, 38. My brother has adult onset adrenoleukodystrophy, known as adrenomyeloneuropathy. He is in a wheelchair, has no strength or sensation in his legs, has complications with bed sores due to his diabetes (which he has as a complication from taking cortisone, because his body doesn't produce enough). He is incontinent, but so far is resisting catheters. This means the ammonia from his urine doesn't help his ulcers. Now, reading all this, I'm sure you will immediately feel bad for this person. I would. Growing up, he was a really sweet kid, a little goofy, funny, kind and generous to a fault. His choices were always a little iffy, and he could get compulsive and throw tantrums, but he was a good brother. Unfortunately, this is not the person who currently occupies my brother's wheelchair. The person he is now is mean, angry, aggressive, combative, rude, obnoxious and has told me in no uncertain terms that he feels he should be able to treat anyone however he wants and they should just take it. As soon as he tries this with my DH, Ron immediately puts him in his place. This he seems to accept. People who don't want to say anything back, however, are treated to constant berating and belittling. He and my mother also have a symbiotic relationship. When my mother misinterpreted something I said (which is pretty constant), my brother called and threatened "to make my life miserable" if he even thought I was being a bitch to my mother. First of all, I would never say something deliberately mean to my mother. Although I don't like her, it's just not a nice thing to do. Besides, I have a therapist I can discuss that with. Second of all, why is he mom's champion? When my dad left in 1999, my mother sounded on the verge of a nervous breakdown for about a year. My parents were miserable together for 9 years prior to this - it certainly didn't come out of left field. The constant brainwashing from my mother to my brother of what a horrible man my father was definitely stuck. My bother was always a weak minded individual, easily susceptible to suggestion. And my mother? Manipulation queen. There you go. Now you have background.

Anyhoo, my brother and his wife were married in Vegas this past May. They begun trying to have a child immediately. The options my brother has in passing this disease on are as follows: he could have a healthy boy (free and clear of this disease) or a carrier female. They are not trying IVF. They are not trying gender selection. They are just trying. (Apparently my brother injects medication which helps him perform). Their view? "Well, if it's a girl she'll just be a carrier." What disturbs me is not that their daughter might be like me (asymtomatic carrier, blog full of our efforts to have a healthy child), but like my mom, who has had to live with this disability since she was 24 years old. To me this is incredibly irresponsible, but not surprising. As of this date, they have not yet succeeded, and I don't plan on sharing my news until after my first trimester. So I just find it all a little whacked... All we have been through to try to give our child the best chance not to have this disease and going so far as to have completely different eggs (well, mostly different - thanks cuz)! The fact they have no regard for what their child has to go through is just astounding. Needless to say, I'm really hoping they have a son.

Well, this post is certainly long enough, and when I return, I promise to fill in the gaps on my dad, who I promise is a warm, loving and fabulous person. Enough bile for one day. Thanks for reading.

Coming Off the Progesterone...

2005-08-21T19:51:00.000-04:00

***Disclaimer: The following post contains comments about pregnancy, including symptoms. If you are feeling adverse to such information at the present time, kindly skip the post below. No offense taken. Be well. Disclaimer over.***

So... I found out later that my hCG was 30,394. It's now at the point where I don't even know what that means, except the nurse said it was "fine." And my friend who's a nurse said I am VERY pregnant. Which makes me feel a bit better. I'm still concerned that this might go away - just because we want this doesn't mean it will happen. My consolation is that everything seems to be alright.

Starting Wednesday the 17th, my progesterone injections would change from 2 cc's to 1.5 cc's. On the 22nd we go down to 1 cc. My estrogen will be 1 tablet twice a day instead of 2 tablets twice a day. Then I go back in on Wednesday the 24th to check my levels and see how our little chickpea is coming along. (Speaking of chickpeas, we're going to a barbecue next weekend and I'm bringing chana masala. Mmmmmmm...)

One thing I find just a bit odd is a few of my friends telling me not to worry, that I will soon be throwing up and suffering morning sickness like every other healthy mother-to-be. This is because the most I have ever felt in that department is mild, passing queasiness...As in "Hmmm, I feel a little icky. Hmmphf." That's it. No nausea, no vomiting, no over salivating. To hear the way they talk about it however, the sicker you are the healthier the baby. So what are they implying? That out little wee chickpea is doomed or unhealthy? They keep telling me, "Oh, it's coming - just you wait." Really, it's a misery loves company thing, I swear. I never had morning sickness with Ben. I feel pretty much the same way I do now, although I don't have the chocolate or goat cheese aversion I did with Ben. (Not necessarily these two items combined).

What most people fail to realize is that not only does misery love company, but so does joy. People who are truly happy want others to be that happy, too. It just seems that the world would be a nicer place if we tried to share more of our joy when we're up instead of trying to bring others down when we're miserable. Just food for thought.

Be Still! My Beating Heart!

2005-08-17T12:26:00.000-04:00

No need to panic (today)! All is well! We do indeed have a single heart beat at a rate of 117 bpm. At 6 weeks & 3 days, our little lentil is 6.1 mm (about the size of a lentil... get it?).

Incidentally, I had Dr. Ass today (the one with the bedside manner of a mushroom), who was actually very pleasant (I'm sure Mr. Right's presence in the room had nothing at all to do with that). This is really getting exciting, but the doctor mentioned something about coming back next week. I did kind of a double take (on the inside), as I was under the impression that once they detect a heart beat, we're released back into the wild, so to speak. Like the condors they're breeding to prevent extinction. I imagine that when Margaret calls this afternoon with the results of my blood work, she'll let me know. I'll certainly ask. Among other things I want to know is, will my body become dependent upon the progesterone I'm injecting? When will my body step up the production so I can stop introducing this hormone into my ass? These are the things that concern me. I'll probably also inquire as to when I may resume eating chocolate... I do have all these wonderful chocolates my DH brought home from Belgium. No rush, you know... Just curious.

What's interesting is when I was pregnant with Ben, the thought of eating chocolate turned my stomach. I could, however, enjoy chocolate flavored things - such as tootsie rolls, which I devoured daily. Hence my weight gain of 10 pounds in the first trimester. I just lost that weight two months ago. I am eating much healthier this time around, no sweets, veggies, fruits, zucchini lasagna... I did partake in a tiramisu the other night when we went out for dinner - it was just divine.

My in-laws were so thrilled when we called them on the way home that they bought me some flowers (just beautiful, including a sunflower, which is just such a happy flower). They've decided that they want to be called Oma & Opa (Granny & Grandpa in German). I think that's so sweet. I just love that. I had asked my dad a while ago, and he'd like to be called Grand-pop. Also great. (His partner has yet to figure out what he would like to be called - did I mention that my parents are divorced & my dad is gay? Oooooh, that's another story for later). I asked C, and she's still thinking about it. So, C? What do you like? Only eight months to go here! EDD, by the way is April 10, 2006. Aires - our little fireball! Mr. Right and I already decided that my cousins will be addressed as aunts & uncle. I only have one brother, and he's a total mess, so I'd like to have some nice, positive stable aunts & uncles for my child.

Okay, don't want to get too ahead of myself here... must take things one day at a time. I'm just so happy and excited to see our little lentil in progressing right along. Just keep growing, just keep growing...

A Rose by Any Other Name...

2005-08-15T19:12:00.000-04:00

Ah, my in-laws have started already with their baby name suggestions. The top of their list? Eusebio and Ulysses. They are joking, of course, in their own little odd way, but they are really cute about it. Until they joke that if they don't like the name we pick, they'll just call our child by their own name. I banter back that I know they would never do something as selfish as giving our child an identity crisis because they don't like their name. tee hee hee. They are funny people. I know this journey has been difficult for them, because they keep getting their hopes up of having a grandchild, and they have to ride roller coaster like the rest of us. They don't know about Ben; they'd never be able to handle the stress and heartbreak so at least they were spared that.

They do, in fact, laughingly ask how little Eusebio is doing today, which I think is pretty funny. Mr. Right and I have names picked out, but we'll probably wait until (God willing) the baby is born before disclosing such information. Everyone seems to have an opinion about why every name sucks except the one they have in mind. I haven't told my mom yet. When/if I clear the first trimester, then we'll make the drive and tell her. We're not close, and she's an incredibly negative person so I don't tell her when I'm going though a cycle. Just need to surround myself with positive energy and good vibes; my mom is not the source for that. My aunt C, however, absolutely radiates positive energy. She called me this morning (like she does almost every morning) just to see how I feel, how Mr. R feels and what's going on. She's the most amazing woman I've ever met. She is a fantastic mom and I'm grateful she spent so much time with me as a kid - she really rubbed off (much to my mother's chagrin). When we first started trying, she asked if she could be an honorary grandmother. I said "What's with the honorary thing? You'll be a grandmother, fair and square!" And if this works, she really will be.

You know, I just want to make sure they're healthy and actually cross the finish line. That's my big concern. This Wednesday we'll have another ultrasound to check on the heartbeat. I know it's pretty early, and although they said it will definitely be there, everyone is different. Our little lentil could be a late bloomer, or could be fast for all I know. I've been drinking 20 oz. of vegetable juice everyday, loaded with vitamins, calcium, iron, beta-carotine - that's gotta help somehow.

I've felt slightly more queasy today, but it's really too mild to complain about. I also feel guilty especially with what Suspended is going through. Poor girl - I'm thinking about you and rooting for you. Hang in there. Besides, if I'm queasy, that's fantastic... Anything to confirm that I've got a wee one percolating down there.

Must go now and intake nutrition. Had homemade zucchini lasagna for lunch, and I'm craving more Italian for dinner. Mmmmm.... dinner. Bon Appetit and Sweet Dreams!

To Freeze or Not to Freeze...

2005-08-11T12:05:00.001-04:00

That, apparently, is not the question we will have to entertain. NONE of our embryos made it to freezing. Out of 25 eggs, and 10 embryos, the only one that made it is currently residing in my uterus. Not that there's any pressure for the little sesame seed, or anything... It's just kind of mind blowing, because these primo eggs are from an unbelievably healthy 22 year old. "A" is an A student and in school on a soccer scholarship. She's been playing soccer since she was five! She's fit, she's funny, she's pretty, we were thrilled that she volunteered to donate for us. It's particularly nice because we both have the same grandparents on my mother's side.

My question is, if this can happen with eggs from a fertile 22 year old, what hope is there for me? Or for anyone who's fertilely challenged? I guess it's just a shot in the dark, really. Sometimes we have great cycles. Sometimes they leave a lot to be desired. How on earth could we possibly know when is the right month to proceed? How do we know if our ovaries are going to cooperate? And if our ovaries cooperate, what about our lining? Sometimes all of our elements are just not on the same page. Really, it's an absolute miracle that children are conceived and born at all. Some will be successful, some will not. Some of us will chose adoption, donor eggs or sperm or surrogacy; there are others still who will decide that a family of two will have to be enough. Gosh, this is a slippery slope. And I was never that great at skiing (after a particularly fine day with friends and having a blast, I retired from skiing, going out on a high note and can thus still recall the memory fondly. Which is just fine with me as I really don't care much for the cold, preferring to stay within a cozy home and read, have sex, or anything not involving frostbite).

Which brings us back to freezing. As we have no other players is the bullpen, we have, literally put all our eggs in one basket. One seems to be making a go of it, for which we are extremely grateful. Whether or not this will continue remains to be seen, specifically on Wednesday. August 17th. Until then I'll keep doing what I have been: no aerobic exercise, no orgasms, no caffeine (which includes the two boxes of delectable chocolates Mr. Right brought home from Belgium -what a dear boy), and no stress. Which is fine. I don't mind avoiding any of these things as long as it means that in April we will have a healthy little baby bee. I'm no stranger to sacrifice and I'm thrilled to be in this situation to make this sacrifice. I'm ecstatic to even have gotten to this point. I'm reassured to have a husband who delights in pampering me and makes me fresh vegetable juice in the mornings (spinach, carrot & celery, which is actually yummy - all 20 oz. of it). We so want to have a little wee one join our family of two. We will continue to prepare and hope for the best. As for the worst, we'll cross that bridge should it present itself to us.

As for you, dear reader, thank you for continuing to read our journey. How lovely it is to have you along for the ride.

One down...

2005-08-10T12:30:00.000-04:00

Had our first ultrasound today, where we were treated to a wee dark spot in a larger grey blob that had a tiny white spot inside of the dark spot. First visual confirmation of -*gasp!* - a singleton pregnancy.

This was good, 'cause I sure don't feel pg. Okay, my boobs are a little firmer, sometimes they're sore (and sometimes they're not), I pee more (but I'm also drinking a lot more H2O), and I am having really weird, vivid dreams.

Here's a dream I had a few nights ago... Mr. Right & I were at the doctors' having the ultrasound to look for the sacs. The image was in color, like a badly drawn illustration, and my uterus was large and much like an aquarium: there was sand at the bottom, coral, plastic weeds and fish. The fetus was floating in a little sac attached to the wall of the uterus by a thin little umbilical cord. As we were observing all this, the doctor approved, said he was very happy - everything looked great. Then a fish got startled and changed direction abruptly, cutting right through the umbilical cord. The unattached fetal sac started drifting around the uterus and the doctor, saddened, said "Ah, that's a shame." We said "What just happened?" The doctor replied "The umbilical cord has been severed, so there's no way the baby can get any nourishment. It will just die now. I'm so sorry. There's nothing we can do. Gee, everything looked so good, too." I awoke with a start, panicked. And then I remember there was also an AQUARIUM. In my UTERUS. So I felt better and went back to bed after a quick trip to the loo.

So far I'm 2-0. I keep having dreams something will go wrong, and it's actually fine. I guess I don't have to worry until I start having dreams that everything will be peachy.

I've actually decided to be happy and excited about this. Because it's always touch and go, especially with problems in the past, it's easy to worry and wait until the results are back from each test. If something should go wrong (which lets face it - the only guarantee in life is death), then I will have spent whatever time I had being pregnant worrying. We tried to do that with Ben, too. We tried not to get our hopes up in the even we would have to say good-bye to him. Eventually we gave up and couldn't help but feel excited, wondering about all the good what-ifs. When it turned out that Ben was affected and we had to end our pregnancy, we were grateful later that it was a good experience, and we enjoyed the short time we shared with him.
So there you go. All my levels look good, my hCG is 4,438, which they said is good for size and age. And I can keep up my injections and estrogen tabs. Next week it's back to the clinic to check for the heartbeat...

Food is Always Good...

2005-08-04T18:39:00.000-04:00

Thank you all for your kind words and support - I can't even begin to tell you all how much it means to me, so thanks.

Next Wednesday we go for an ultrasound where "they will be looking for placement in the uterus, gestatinal sac and yolk sac. They want to make sure everything is growing correctly." As per my nurse. A went for her final check up today and she's doing just fine - she can finally go back to unrestricted activity. I still can't believe she volunteered; we will be eternally grateful. As I only have one brother & Mr. Right is an only child, we're going to refer to our friends and cousins as honorary aunts and uncles. This way our child(ren) will always have lots of family!

My neighbor the nurse has been doing my injections and is fantastic at it - I barely even notice the 1 1/2" needle! I think she should give Mr. R lessons; I know he'd be happy to learn a better technique.

He called today from Belgium - all is going well, although he was mighty exhausted. He didn't get to sleep on the plane, but went from airport to hotel and to work after a quick shower and shave.

NME, in response to your query, my favorite restaurant in the area is The River Grille. The food is always creative and delicious, the service is professional and ever so friendly and it's got lovely decor. It's also right around the corner from the Crayola factory, so it's a great place to eat after bringing the wee ones for a colored wax filled experience! It's also kid friendly! In Philly, I really like Cuba Libre. It's just wonderful, and has a festive atmosphere to boot.

I also adore the name Amelia. Can you guess what name we have chosen for a girl? ; )

I want to head over to the library and check out some books (oooh! and maybe a movie!) and then I look forward to a dinner of hot dogs and asparagus. Before you wig over the hot dogs, let me add that these have no nitrates or artificial ingredients; they're white (no coloring) and made of pork, lamb and veal. They're incredible, and we picked them up at Wegmans. I wish you all could have a Wegmans.

Signing off, as the thought of dinner is making me very, very hungry.

What, Me Worry?

2005-08-03T12:05:00.000-04:00

Well, the anxiety has certainly been creeping back in. I am not used to things going well, and as optimistic as I have sometimes been in this trek, worry again raises its ugly head. What ifs pop up, and I have to tell myself that I'll just wait for the call and we'll see what happens. I have no control over this; there is nothing I can do. Which of course is just aggravating in itself.

Dinner was divine last night - we went to our favorite restaurant and had a delightful meal, including cold melon soup with crabmeat and prosciutto.

When I went in for my bloodwork this morning, I asked the nurse on duty to confirm the precise location for my progesterone injections. She strongly recommended that I not inject my thighs, as sticking myself with a 1 1/2 " needle would be extremely painful and would cause me pain and difficulty walking. So, after I get the results today (God willing all is well), I will call my neighbor (who is a nurse) and ask her if she would mind doing it. If not, I have another neighbor who is also in the medical field. And if that fails, I have a retired nurse aunt who lives 30 minutes away and I'm sure she would be happy to help me. She's my dad's oldest sister, very sweet, and they're very close. She practically raised my dad, as my grandmother was a real piece of work. That's a story for another day.

So that's it. I should be working, but I've been reading blogs and in between trying to actually get some work done. And worrying about my hCG levels. Yes, I know as my dear great Aunt Amelia always said *(worry is like a rocking chair - it gives you something to do but doesn't get you anywhere).

* Just before I typed that, Margaret my nurse called - we have doubling! 322 is today's magic number. Holy cow - what a relief! It feels almost too good to be true, but then again the eggs were from an insanely healthy 22 year old, not my crap eggs. (It's okay, I can face that). I have to go back next Wednesday for bw & ultrasound, but clearly it's too early for heart beat. I was too excited to ask; I'll e-mail her later to find out. And I still do 2 cc's of progesterone! Hey - I don't care. If this works and I can have a healthy baby, then stick away.

Happy Anniversary!

2005-08-02T17:06:00.000-04:00

Today is our 4th wedding anniversary, which is nice, considering we received the best present ever yesterday. We're still so happy, and it's just hard to stop smiling. Even when rendering a bra*chial plex*us ne*uroma.

Just hopeful to see the appropriate doubling tomorrow. I'm optimistic, the first number seemed pretty good for 10 days after transfer. As soon as I know, my update will be posted post haste.

I asked my nurse today to ask her if I can do my progesterone injections somewhere else other than my white butt, because Mr. Right will be hopping on a plane tomorrow for Brussels until Sunday afternoon. He's working on some medical storyboards for an upcoming film and must assist the animators in Belgium. I am envious, but must hold the fort down here. And he can always bring me back something cool. As I will be unable to effectively shoot myself in the ass, I'm glad to know my thighs are my second option. So I'll go solo for the next few days; I'm sure I can handle it. (We shall see...)

Tonight we're going out for dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, celebrating not only our happy union, but the wee baby bee(s) I'm hosting. Then I'll be up early tomorrow and off for more blood work. Tune in tomorrow for the next saga in this continuing adventure!

Okay, so I guess I'll need that Progesterone Refill

2005-08-01T14:25:00.000-04:00

I can't believe this. Anxiety has been mounting, and close friends started calling to see if we'd heard anything yet.
We did. Ten days after transfer, and the level is.... 117.

I cried when the nurse told me and Mr. Right, who happened to be next to me when the phone rang, wondered how bad it was. I wrote the number down and circled it. He exclaimed "What does that mean?!" I told him as soon as I got off the phone. I'm so excited, and I know the worry will start up again - Just want to see appropriate doubling on Wednesday. My progesterone was okay at >40. At least we're still in the game.

I still can't believe this. I am so ecstatically happy, just enjoying the moment. 117 seems pretty good. Certainly much better than the 45 I had the very first IVF cycle. I remember my MIL telling me before we started not to worry - everything would work out. She knew someone who tried IVF five times, and then got pregnant with twins. At the time, I remember thinking, well, we're certainly not going to have to go that far...

So, in this 5th IVF cycle, I'm now a bit hopeful. Just want to see those numbers double. Thank you all for our kind attention and support. I can't tell you how much it means to me. I'm fairly new to the whole blog arena, but reading your innermost electronic thoughts has taught me a great deal in a short time. You're all fantastic, and I wish the best for all of you. Thank you for being there for me as well. I promise to keep you posted...

ACK! The Waiting...

2005-08-01T10:02:00.000-04:00

Trying desperately to concentrate on work and not count the seconds until the results of my beta. It's clearly not working - so I blog! I met a woman who I've seen and chatted with a few times. In April and May, we were cycling together, give or take a few days. I'm now on my 5th cycle; she was there because her last cycle worked. When she went in last week to check for a heartbeat, she was told the baby's heart had stopped beating a few days prior to the ultrasound. She had a D&C over the weekend and was in for hCG level monitoring, to make sure it gets down to zero.

This just shows me how incredibly fragile this whole process is. That any of us manage to get pregnant and actually give birth to a healthy child nine months later is an absolute miracle.

So here is to wishing and praying for miracles for us all.

Tomorrow is Yet Another Hurdle

2005-07-31T19:30:00.000-04:00

I'm so anxious about tomorrow. I get up early in the morning to be on the road by 5:30 a.m. to go for my beta. I will find out if this has worked, or if we need to come up with a new plan. We don't even know if there are any frozen embryos; the embryology lab will send us a letter letting us know the summary of our eggs, including how many (if any) were frozen. It'd be nice to know this information upon cryopreservation, but that's not how things are done in this lab. If we are without frozen embryos, I wouldn't ask my cousin to donate again. She was medically cleared to fly on Thursday, July 28th, so we got her on the first available fight the following morning. Her bloating and fluid retention has resolved, and she's happy to be back home even if it's only for a week - she leaves for her final semester on Aug. 5. I felt terrible that she had the complications that she did (DH felt even worse), but she didn't mind, and is already saying that it wasn't that bad. Aside from that, her schedule wouldn't allow that kind of time off until next summer. Her sister, S who is 23, has volunteered as well, but she's out of school and working - hard to take a month off.

I want this to work desperately - but just because I want it (along with everyone else we know), doesn't mean it will happen. I held a one month old this weekend. Our in laws had us over for dinner on Friday and invited their 24 year old neighbor. She's married to a 52 year old pilot, had a 2 1/2 year old and the baby. Dh & I took turns holding the baby, Chris. He was so sweet, and so wee! Mr. Right was great with him, although nervous like he thought he might break him. I was happy holding him, but also thought, I hope I can create one of these guys (or at least have one). Emotionally, I still feel at fault, although intellectually I know that I am not. I do, however, believe that we choose our lives - the people we're born to, what we do along the way, people we meet. Of course, when we're born we forget all of this and we can make the wrong decisions. Our gut / instinct lets us know if we're doing something we're not supposed to - it just doesn't feel right. Inversely, our gut 'clicks' if we are doing what we're supposed to, in order to learn whatever lesson we need to learn in this lifetime. So from that standpoint, I did choose to have this mutation - to learn what ever lesson I need to in life. You learn more with adversity and challenge than you do without it.

I hope this doesn't sound preachy - that's certainly not my intention. It's just what I happen to believe, what makes sense to me.

I awoke sad this morning; I had a dream that Margaret, my nurse called and told me the beta was negative. It was pretty realistic, but then I also recalled I was with Sydney Bristow at the time, and we were all dressed up in a hotel in an unspecified foreign country guarding one of the four exits and looking for Mike Myers. And handing out insulin syringes. (Sydney Bristow is Jennifer Gardner's character on Alias, a spy show on ABC. I'm fairly addicted). So this probably means nothing, except I'm worried that my beta will be negative.

Of course, if my beta is positive, I will immediately do the happy dance, celebrate my 4th wedding anniversary with my husband on the 2nd, and pray the 2nd beta shows appropriate doubling. Just another hurdle... Thanks in advance for all your luck and well wishes. Que sera, sera.

Heigh Ho, Heigh Ho...

2005-07-27T19:12:00.000-04:00

Yes, it's back to work I go. I didn't stay off my feet as much as I wanted to, but I was mostly on bed rest. My aunt C flew out from the Southwest arriving on Saturday morning (day of transfer), for the main purpose of comforting my cousin A. It seems that A developed hyperstim syndrome, was terribly bloated/retaining water and was dehydrated at the same time. She was achy and nauseated, and we felt terrible, obviously. The doctors told A she had peaked on Saturday, and she's still recovering, and at least she's now starting to see some progress. We had cancelled her flight, and we're waiting to see how her screening goes tomorrow before we re-book the flight. We hope she can go home soon, as I know she has to be back at school in the beginning of August (she's managing the soccer team this year, and needs to get everything organized prior to the start of semester). C flew back yesterday, and we already miss her terribly. She's a wonderful mom, and she's even a mom to me; I know who I'll be calling for advice.

I feel fine, annoyingly so. I wish there were some symptoms, or some kind of sign, but I feel like I do any other day. Occasionally I'll have nausea so mild it's hardly worth mentioning, but that's it. Monday they checked my progesterone levels, which were apparently "great. Keep doing what you're doing." Which means 1cc in each cheek, although after reading Suz's post:

I want my, I want my PIO

I'll take the shots, thank you very much. I already have to insert 2 tabs of estrace in my special place twice a day, and if I don't want periwinkle blue stuff on my undies, I wear a lovely pantiliner. [If anyone can offer advice to do better active links, I'd really welcome it].

So I go for my beta on 8/1, the day before our 4 year wedding anniversary. I'm hoping and praying I have better results than I did for my last beta, which was the day before Mother's day. We want this to work so badly, and I know DH would be such a great dad - he's really looking forward to it. I'm so looking forward to being a mom as well. A little anxious, but I know that will pass. Not even going to go for the pee stick - it's so early, and I just don't need that kind of agita.

I feel fine, normal, like I do on any other day. I hope that will change, in a good way, of course. Ooooh, I am feeling a little dizzy, but I'm sure it's nothing.

Cousin, Can You Spare An Egg?

2005-07-23T17:53:00.000-04:00

When we first started the whole Baby Quest, my two cousins, (my favorite Aunt's daughters) volunteered to donate their eggs. We told them we hoped it wouldn't come to that but we'd keep it in mind. In fact, over the years I have had several friend offer to donate their eggs, which is just incredibly touching.

As our IVF cycles progressed, or rather came to abrupt halts, we started thinking more and more about my cousins' offers. My dear friends at this point were passed the age for donation and my cousins are in their early twenties. After our last cycle, we started making arrangements with my cousin A to figure what needed to be done. We knew the clinic had available schedules in July, and that A would be in summer school until the end of June. Her fall semester would start in mid August - so July it would be.

We had to go and meet with a social worker to discuss this option, who asked us all kinds of invasive questions "How do you think you would feel if you saw your kids and your cousins kids playing together? ....Happy? Why on earth wouldn't I be happy? All kinds of asshat questions. We talked with the ovum donor nurse, who was very pleasant and told us what kind of screening would be necessary for all three of us. DH had his blood work that day, and we would need to fly A in from Texas to come in for a day o' screening. Of course before that, she had to have her day 3's done at an RE's office local to her (thankfully there was one in her town). When she got her course schedule on June 1st, she checked with professor to find out what, if any days she could miss. On that advice, we flew her up for a day in mid June for the fabulous Day o' Screening. Upon the physical and psychological, results we would know if A was an acceptable donor. For anonymous donors, they want to see 12 follicles for a baseline count. For known donors they'll accept 8. A, who is 22 and in school on a Soccer scholarship, had 20. In each ovary. Yeah, that's pretty mind reeling. The most I ever had was 13, but I m also 34. Physically she was fine, and as the psychological exam tests for depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia, we started to make plans for A's trip in July. My therapist asked "How are you dealing with things kind of dragging?" Just great, as they didn't feel like they were dragging at all! Everything was just moving right along. And on a very positive note, I asked the Big Guy if there was anything they could do to help with this cycle (when the biopsied cells were thawed, he told me not to worry about money - they would do whatever they could to make sure things worked out for me). To my utter disbelief, he told me they would waive their fees (about $14,000. for known donor cycle); I would still be responsible for medications and outside lab costs (about $6,500.). I cried and told him how grateful we were for their help. What a relief - thank God. Now we could get the ball rolling.

We booked a flight for A to arrive on Thursday, July 7th and stay until the 30th. We were really looking to spending some time with her because she's just a really cool girl. When she graduates in December, she'll continue with Physical Therapy school. So. She's smart, pretty, athletic and in incredible shape. We really couldn't believe our luck that she was willing to do this for us. And while she was staying with us, we could get to know her a bit better, too.

I started my Lupon on 6/27. Her meds would start on the 9th. Like I said, moving right along... On her first screening, she had 20 follicles in one ovary and 21 in the other. That would be 41, people. Jeez Louise. But I tend not to count my chickens until they hatch, so, one day at a time. Her meds, Bravelle, cost an ungodly amount of money. My insurance covered mine, but of course they wouldn't cover her. All for a good cause. All the money we've spent is an investment. Which we do know, but as I am a horrendous tightwad, it helps if I remind myself every so often. My lining progressed nicely, and was responding extremely well. So well they had to back her off some of her meds. They told us we could expect the retrieval between the 19th and 22nd of July. They actually wound up doing the retrieval on Monday, July 18th. That was quick! They were able to retrieve 25 eggs. Wow. The following day they called to tell us 10 had fertilized. The nice thing about this amount was that it wouldn't be decreased by the number that were affected or carriers.

So we went in on Saturday, July 23 for a day 5 transfer. We were told we had two average blasts for transfer, with six more still developing. If they do okay, then they'll be frozen. My lining was "perfect" (it should be - I'm on 2 cc's of progesterone each night, and that's one in each cheek, for those of you counting). This will be my last post for a few days, as I'm putting myself on bed rest (which dh is reinforcing). We want this to work so badly, but fact is, want or hope or prayer have nothing to do with it. If this is in the plan for us, it will happen. If it's not, then it won't. I just wish I knew one way or the other so I could accept it. I guess that's what faith is about. I still hope this works.

And Then There Was One

2005-07-22T11:54:00.000-04:00

I had asked the nurse about the quality of the two embryos that would be transplanted. After checking with the lab director, this is what she found out:

"One is unaffected, one is a carrier. I can only see the embryology info on one of them in the fields I'm permitted to view, but it looks good. Do you want to know the sex of the embryos?"

After performing the moves you see cartoon characters make after they are hit over the head by impossibly large wooden mallets, I read the e-mail again and again, focusing on one word: "carrier."

Apparently, just so's y'all know, a carrier is considered an acceptable embryo to transfer, because they won't actually have the disease, they'll just be a carrier of the disease. Like me. However, a small percentage (15%) may develop symptoms in their lifetime. Like my Mom. And Grandmother. So at the very least, having a daughter who is a carrier means they would have to go through this agita to try to have a healthy child.

Okay. How about, ....no.....?

The unaffected embryo, by the way, was a girl which we wanted to know but really - the gender just didn't matter - as long as it's healthy. After speaking with the nurse, the Big Guy and the brilliant geneticist, we opted to transfer the one, single embryo we knew was unaffected. We knew our chances wouldn't be as great, but if we wanted to have a child that was a carrier or affected, we wouldn't be spending oodles of money that we don't have (thank you credit cards)! We would have sex like regular people! Hell - we would have had Ben!

Being the responsible individuals we are, however, we did not want to afflict another generation with this disease. So it was just the one, then.
The transfer was on April 28, 2005. I stayed on self imposed bed rest for three days to try to get our little girl embryo to stick. I felt a little crampy, which I wasn't worried about - I felt that way with Ben. On the 5th dpt, I noticed my nipples were really sore - Oooh! Good sign! I got a bit of a fever and felt washed out, which my Aunt assured me was probably a good sign; sometimes, women early in their pregnancy get cold or flu like symptoms. We were positive and convinced this was working. There was no way I couldn't be pregnant! DH kept feeding me inordinate amounts of food, despite my protests that I was indeed not eating for two; the second was just a bunch of cells at this point!

I told DH I'd like tulips for Mother's day. May 7th, the day before mother's day, I went for my beta. On the way home we stopped at a British cozy spot for some breakfast. There was a crafts fair going on on the town so we wandered around and talked about future baby things; it was recklessly optimistic. When we got home, there was a message on the machine from the clinic.

"Unfortunately, I don't have good news, your test was negative..."

My jaw dropped. I would have bet my house I was pregnant. I knew I was. Clearly, I was wrong. Again. Rain check on those tulips, love.

So that was it. Our last cycle. We went through three fresh and one frozen. As we were out of frozen embryos, we were done.
I talked to my Aunt, who called my cousin. Bless her heart, my cousin "A" asked, "When do they need me to be there?" My jaw dropped again.

Can Open, Cells Thawed...

2005-07-21T10:48:00.000-04:00

That's right, first shot of lupron on February 14th. It was a pretty smooth cycle, except my Left ovary just didn't get with the picture. One of the doctors (the only one I don't like there - let's call him Dr. Ass, shall we?) asked me:

"Have you had surgery on the left ovary?"

me: "No"

Dr. A: "There's nothing going on. It's looks dead."

me: "It's not dead, it's just on vacation this cycle."

Dr. A: "Hmmph."

All the warmth, compassion and bedside manner of a frickin' ice pop. Thanks, ass. Aside from that, we wound up with 8 eggs, which didn't seem like a tremendous amount, but I was just glad to get some. Now we would wait to see how many of those were mature and of those, how many would fertilize. It turned out there were five. Including the two we had on ice, that made seven. See? I can add! At least small sums, otherwise I need to break out the calculator I keep with me at all times. ; )

On Day 3 they were able to biopsy all seven (yay!) so we sat tight and waited for our call on Friday, March 11th (which was day 5) to find out if there were any that would be unaffected and healthy enough to transfer.

The call came at about 11:00 a.m from Dr. S - the Big Guy who head the facility and is as nice and tactful as he is brilliant. In the kindest way possible, he let us know that the shipping container which held the biopsied specimens had been damaged during transport and the cells had thawed. Which means they couldn't be tested. Apparently, this had NEVER happened before. That's right, cheeky girls - I had the distinct privilege of being the first. And hopefully only. The upshot was that they could be rebiopsied, but by the time the results came back the window for implantation would have passed.

On Monday, day 8, 4 of the 7 were able to be biopsied, then were frozen. Because the PGD lab scrapped the old test, they had to design the new one and that would take some time, so we just played the waiting game and climbed the walls to take our mind off the waiting.

Waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Naturally I was growing more and more anxious - I finally e-mailed the doctor to see if they had anything yet. He called me in the evening of March 30th to tell me we had two to implant. No WAY!!! We were ecstatic that there were actually two healthy embryos we could transfer. We couldn't believe it. We were all set to start lupron on April 3rd. And then I got some further interesting news...

Sometimes, 13 is a Scary Number

2005-07-20T08:40:00.000-04:00

We geared up for our next IVF cycle in November; at least this time we got to use the Follistim pen, which was an absolute joy compared to mixing the powders. I was also on Lupron & lo dose hCG - thankfully this time I had different insurance which actually covered the meds - hallelujah! I was in full swing of the Lupron during Thanksgiving. My in laws were staying in a run down apartment around the corner until their new house was completed. We invited them over for turkey day; I just couldn't see them spending Thanksgiving at Uncle Juniors (on the Sopranos, his house is covered in wood paneling, as was this very run down little cracker box). My MIL came over early to help with the turkey, although it wound up being just her & DH. My fuse was non existent and this really set me off; I was terribly waspish with her. However, being that's she's emotionally unstable, I told her that I would clean and if she would continue helping DH with the turkey, that would be just great. So I cleaned & fumed. I spoke with my DH when she left, and we came to the conclusion - damned lupron! I'm usually much more easy going. Really! And the lesson I learned was, when inviting my in laws over for anything, to tell them to be there at a certain time - not earlier, as DH & I would handle all the food preparation. Normally, my MIL is very sweet, but God bless her heart, she does meddle something fierce. We're all trying to working on it without sending her into a temper tantrum.

Anyhoo, our cycle went (mostly) great - my left ovary decided to pitch in and help so we were off to a great start! Then my lining looked a little thin and one of the doctors told me if it didn't get better, we'd have to cancel the cycle. So I was a slight wreck about that. The following day it looked great, so full steam ahead. When they performed the retrieval, the magic number was 13: a baker's dozen, my kind doctor announced. We were so excited - this was looking good! We were on tenterhooks the next day waiting to find out how many fertilized. It seemed that my stomach leapt into my throat every time the phone rang, but no RE. I stepped out to get the mail. Upon my arrival, DH told me the nurse called: 3 fertilized. I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. "What do you mean, only three fertilized?!" I called the nurse to find out the details. Apparently there were 4 mature eggs, the rest were either immature or post mature. Very odd, but there you are. As three was not a good number to start with, we decided to hold off on the biopsy and PGD. We'd go through another cycle and get some more eggs. Because, you know, it's just that simple. We had been lulled into a false sense of security with the smoothness and (almost) success of our first cycle. We were now becoming aware of just how many hurdles there were in IFV. Bye bye naivete! Hellooooo, cautious optimism! They were able to freeze two of the three, so we looked to our calendar to plan our next cycle. Next Stop: Valentine's Day!

Tabula Rasa

2005-07-19T19:09:00.000-04:00

After Ben's death, my friend J was coming in to visit that weekend. I had told her two days before what was going on and was glad she was coming. She was a help to DH & I, and I cried so hard my eye lids became swollen. We all talked a lot and cried that weekend. On Monday we showed up for work like nothing had happened. (On the outside. On the inside, we were still so very raw).

Soon we started to contemplate our next cycle. As least we knew I could carry, which was helpful. I mean, I'd never done it before, so how does one know unless one does? We started looking towards November for the next start date and planning accordingly. I couldn't wait to get pregnant again - maybe Ben would come back to us; we both hoped he would. (By this we mean his soul; we know that the individual Ben was and could have been is gone, never to return).

This gave us a goal, something to look forward to. We also booked our long weekend trip to London with L & K for the end of October and we couldn't wait for our little getaway, either. I went back to the IVF place for day three blood work, and got a bit of a surprise in September: my hCG level was 51. I was on the pill (and using condoms), so we knew we couldn't be pregnant again. They performed an ultrasound and discovered some retained tissue with blood flow. It appeared that a part of the placenta remained, and still had blood flow. Well, that was a bit of a surprise! I spoke with my nurse to discuss our options, and called my OB for a hysteroscopy. He was able to take me in mid October, before our trip. I was also pleased to learn that the flight and ensuing trip would not affect me after the procedure. We scheduled the hysteroscopy, which had to be converted to a surgical suction. I had no idea - I was out, and apparently had a catheter and endotracheal intubation. It went smoothly and they were able to evacuate all remaining placental tissue. When I woke up I was told they were able to get everything out; now we could start with a clean slate. Literally!

Not for the Faint of Heart - part 2 of 2

2005-07-01T13:21:00.000-04:00

When stage one was over, DH & I cried and held each other after the staff left the room to give us some privacy. The doctor eventually came in and hugged both of us; we were then escorted to labor & delivery. The nurse assigned to us was a lovely, kind and sweet woman. That was helpful. My OB came, inserted tablets around my cervix and so it began. I would keep getting tablets every four hours.

I stayed in bed, ate Jello, ice pops and drank tea. DH was in the room with me; we watched TV, talked, cried, read books and dozed as the cramps started to increase. In late afternoon, DH went outside to call the office (we had told them we were doing testing, then going out to dinner with friends that evening). Marie, my nurse, was seeing other patients. The sun was streaming though the blinds and I had an experience... I felt incredibly, unbelievably... the least alone I have ever felt in my life. I understood, clearly, that no one, ever, is alone. I don't know if it was Ben, I don't know if it was God, but I was grateful for the message. (Raised an Episcopalian, I am not religious, but certainly spiritual). In the midst of all of this horrendous experience, I felt joy and was glad to have reached this understanding. And yes, this was before the morphine.

My water broke around 11:45 p.m. The contractions got worse and more intense; Ben eventually arrived shortly after 1 a.m. We were alone in the room because everyone was attending a patient who was having a complicated delivery. DH and I looked at him, and held him and cried. Shortly after the doctor and nursing staff came in and clamped and cut his tiny cord, cleaned him up and let us hold him for a while. He was so wee, but we could see he was already developing DH's nose. Eventually they took him away to do a more thorough job of cleaning him up. Later I found out they took pictures of him (polaroids and professional), made foot molds, dressed him in a tiny blue kimono and gave him a teddy bear. I was stunned they did all things things for babies born too early. Ours was not a miscarriage, but they treated all of us with dignity and that meant more than these poor words can describe. They brought him back and we spent more time with him, and said goodbye. It was so hard to see this little person who grew inside of me, who we talked to, who we killed (let's not mince words here), and met him only after his death.

I still grieve every day, some days I cry. He will always be a part of our lives, forever. We will always love him. I just wish he hadn't been affected. If he had been okay, he would have been born around mid January this year and I would never have found time to create this blog. Friends and family would tell me constantly how much he looks like his dad.
But I am writing this blog. And I pray that Ben's soul understands and forgives us. I also pray that I can one day forgive myself. One day. But not today.

Not For the Faint of Heart, part 1 of 2

2005-07-01T00:37:00.000-04:00

On Thursday, August 5th, 2004, we made our appointment for the following day to induce labor. My understanding was that this could take anywhere from 12 to 36 hours. This was so overwhelming; I felt like someone had jammed their arm down my throat and clenched my stomach in their fist. DH was the same - devastated. And on top of all of this, we had to put on the face at work that all was fine. Nothing to see here, move right along, now. I managed to keep my wits about me enough to call my OB's office and make sure they got pre-authorization for the hospital visit. In fact, the receptionist at the doctor's office was surprised I thought of it. Hey, as a virgo, we're nothing if not practical.
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The rest of this post may be a bit graphic and sensitive for some of those reading. If you have an aversion to needles or are nauseated, or are currently pregnant, you should bypass the rest of this post. I realize that that will greatly reduce the number of my audience, but as this blog is a figurative exercise in therapy, I don't mind. I will be happy to alert you, dear reader, when the water is fine. The next paragraphs will be the hardest words I have ever typed.
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One other thing I remembered was a clause in our IVF financing: our contract would end with a live birth. This was financing we purchased (for $21,600.00) prior to beginning our cycles - for this discounted rate, we would receive 3 fresh and 3 frozen cycles. (PGD, ISCI, AH were not covered by this sum, and would have to be paid in full prior to each cycle start date. Thankfully, DH & I have good credit and a number of credit cards). If you're successful on the first try, you've over paid but are deliriously happy having had the child of your dreams. If all cycles fail, one may take comfort in the fact that less money was spent per cycle than if you paid for each cycle individually. So far, we had been through one cycle when we accidentally became pregnant with Ben.

My (practical) concern was that when labor was induced, and Ben was born alive, that would render our contract null and void - we wouldn't get another chance to go through IVF to have an unaffected child. I e-mailed my OB to run this by him, and he replied that, yes, it is a possibility that the baby may be alive for a few minutes after birth. So we scheduled a potassium injection for first thing Friday morning. This means that through ultrasound guidance, they would insert a needle though my belly, into Ben, into his heart and inject the potassium. This would stop his heart from beating, causing fetal death. So this is how practical I had to be. I had to kill my affected 17 week little boy for the "greater good" and possibility (and hope) of one day having a child free of this accursed disease. I'm a mess as I'm typing this. This was the worst thing I've ever done, ever had to do. The only rationale I could cling to was that if we had Ben, one day he would start to display his symptoms. It would get progressively worse and we would watch our son die, painfully wasting away. In that position, I would do ANYTHING to prevent it - to take it back - to keep him from suffering. And that's what I was doing on August 6th.

The doctor and nurses performing the termination were sensitive and sympathetic. I'm sure they hated to do this as much as I hated having it done. DH was with me the entire time. I insisted on watching, DH could not but held my hand and cried. I'm glad he didn't. I felt that if I were taking Ben's life so early, it was certainly the least I could do watch. I watched and I cried, and I vowed that none of my children (if I would be blessed enough to have them), would EVER have to go though this. I refused to pass this goddamned gene on. It would die with me. I watched my son die and swore to him that I would never make him or any child suffer. Not from this, not from ALD. If we could prevent it, by any means necessary we would. As God as my witness, I swore.

Needles and Pins

2005-06-27T21:10:00.000-04:00

We were worried, but we were also happy and excited. I was a bit hesitant about the whole boy thing until I talked to my friend L who had two boys and raved about them. They had two very different personalities but were delightful children. The more I thought about it, I quickly warmed to the idea of being a mom to a little boy. Growing up a tomboy myself, I could easily relate and understand climbing trees, catching frogs, snakes and worms, not to mention the many holes I dug in the yard... Just because.

We bounced a few names back and forth, but nothing really blew my skirt up. I woke up at 2 a.m. one working and it hit me - Benjamin! That clicked - that was it. I was always an admirer of Benjamin Franklin, and so was dh; it was perfect.

So now we had a name to the wiggling little baby bee inside of me. The fifteenth week mark passed and I stopped the frequent trips to the bathroom in the wee hours of the night. My acne started clearing up a bit (thank GOD!!!), and I was hard pressed to find jeans that fit comfortably.

The weeks ticked by, and we were growing more and more anxious. The sixteen week mark came and went as our anxiety increased with each passing hour. We were on pins and needles: would we be expecting a bouncing baby boy in mid January, or would we have to do the unthinkable (which we were forced to face and think about)?

The 17th week arrived, and we finally received a call for our genetic counselor: Ben was indeed affected. They took longer because once they performed the biochemical test, they wanted to make extra sure and test his DNA. There was no doubt.

We were crushed. Knowing that this might be a possibility, we were so determined in the beginning not to get our hopes up. As this pregnancy progressed, we couldn't help but get excited. There was also a part of me that was afraid I would never experience this again. I wanted to enjoy it and live it to the fullest while it lasted. I steeled myself and called my OB/Gyn, who was disappointed to learn the results. Because we were 17 weeks along, he said he could induce labor and then deliver Ben. Because he was 17 weeks, he wouldn't live on his own. He said there were some places that would do a surgical extraction, but it would be riskier to me with a higher rate of complication. As we really wanted to try to have another child, we went for labor and delivery.

This was really not the way we envisioned our first trip to the maternity ward.

Oh Boy...

2005-06-24T08:56:00.000-04:00

At 11 weeks we went for the Chorionic Villus Sampling. For those of you not familiar with this fabulous test, first, they do an ultrasound. While imaging the fetus, your belly in numbed. Then a very large needle is inserted into the placenta, which is a bit painful. A smaller needle is inserted through the larger needle and into the placenta to obtain cells from the placenta. This doesn't seems to have a negative affect on the fetus at this stage. If performed earlier than 9 weeks, it can interfere with blood flow to the extremities, sometimes causing stunted growth to the fingers and toes. Which is why the test is not performed before 10 weeks.

When we saw our little butter bean, she was wiggling around all over the place - very normal, as I was informed by the doctor and nurses performing the test. They obtained the cells, then tried to get more so I wouldn't have to wait so long for the DNA results. My uterus was contracting (also apparently normal), so it was a no go. What they would then do was the chromosome testing, for things like downs syndrome. They would then culture more cells, and send them down to the specialized lab to test the DNA and see if this baby was affected, a carrier or healthy.

The waiting was murder! Oh, I also forgot to mention that my dh and I work together, with his parents. It's a small family business with another employee. We decided not to tell anyone else until we had the results. Because if it was a positive results, we knew what we would have to do and we didn't really want to share that with everyone.

During the course of our waiting, we actually told a couple of friends. M & L, because M had told me that L was pg, the same time I was. That was actually a deciding factor for me in not getting an abortion at planned parenthood but waiting to find out if our little bean was healthy. Then L had a miscarriage, sort of. She was still pregnant, and had her 3rd healthy baby boy in February, '05. She's quite the fertile gal.

L & K invited us to go to London with them in the fall, which we were putting off deciding on, because I wouldn't be able to fly that late in the pregnancy. So we spilled the beans to them, and they were thrilled. L is PCOS, but they both do not want kids, 'fortunately' for them. Sadly, she has to deal with all the problems of her condition, and I hate that such a dear friend has to go through this.

My aunt knew- I talked with her at least once a day and discussed everything with her. She was a real rock to turn to, and always a delight.

So that was it. Neither of our parents knew, our employee didn't know (oh, wait - my therapist knew. Thankfully I had starting seeing her right after our first cycle failed). We completely hid this. My skin broke out spectacularly, and I told everyone it was from stress and sweets. Which was actually partially true (see tootsie roll fixation in previous post).

My bosom was getting larger and was way sensitive. My hair was thick all of a sudden - and I have REALLY fine hair. My pants were getting tight and I could only fit into my loosest pair of jeans. I broke down and bought a pair of used maternity capri cargo pants on eBay.

Finally we got a call from the genetic counselor two and a half weeks after the CVS. The chromosone testing was all normal, and the baby was a boy.

W-W-What?! What do you mean, a boy? We had a name picked out for a girl! I didn't even know 'boy' was a option. Boy, was I wrong. Now the excruciating waiting for the DNA results....

So THIS is What it's Like...

2005-06-23T19:12:00.000-04:00

We went to see my new MD (as my previous doctor has just moved far, far away), and liked him very much right off the bat. We explained our circumstances in technicolor detail and he completely grasped the situation. I had an ultrasound the following day to date the pregnancy - 7 weeks 1 day, and ooh! Look! A little flicker of a heart beat! Next up: we scheduled the chorionic villus sampling, which would allow us to test the baby's DNA and find out what exactly was what.

I had made up my mind that, even after reading "What to Expect When You're Expecting", I would still keep my expectations open. I had never been pregnant before (except that one time in college when I was late and out of sheer panic drank myself into getting my period), and I would keep an open mind as to what I would be experiencing. I know it's different for everyone, and even different pregnancies in the same woman can be different. So I was just going to sit back and see what unfolded...

In the interim, I became well acquainted with frequent nocturnal urination, but morning sickness avoided me. The closest I got was the faintest nausea; "hmmm, maybe I should eat something..." And then it would disappear. So that was nice. My cravings were for very specific foods, and when I ate them, it would be the best EVER. One day I really wanted chicken cutlet on a roll with lettuce, tomato & Russian dressing. When I ate it, I swear it had never tasted so good. And that's my favorite sandwich. Yet when I had the same sandwich the following day... Nothing. Lost my taste for it immediately. Also, I'm usually very passionate about my chocolate. While pregnant, the thought of actually eating chocolate did not thrill me. But I did enjoy chocolate flavored things. (Enter tootsie rolls - I had 5 a day). Because they were just that nutritionally rich for my growing embryo.

All throughout this, dh would awake every morning and kiss me (as per usual), then kiss my tummy and say "Good morning, baby bee!" That was just lovely. We already had a name picked out, so that wasn't a problem. It was a girl's name, because clearly there wasn't an option that I would ever have anything else except a daughter. Right? RIGHT??

Can Open, Worms Everywhere...

2005-06-10T16:29:00.000-04:00

We were pretty saddened by the results of our first cycle. Mr. Right was particularly hurt. He knew he wanted children, he just didn't realize how much until my hCG levels went to 0. I felt the same way, which in its own way was good - at least we knew we were on the right track.

We regrouped, figured out what would be the next favorable astrological sign, and planned our next cycle in late July of 2004. We had about five months to relax and get our ducks in a row before starting up again. No problem! Well...

About the 3rd week into April, I was feeling especially randy (not unusal, considering I was also ovulating). I let my dear husband aware of my intentions and we had quite a bit of fun that evening ; ) As events wound down, we realized the condom had slipped off. We were concerned initally, but Mr. R said he had just had a special moment the day before, so we figured "immature sperm!" No worries! As I write this, I realize this sounds like something coming from a 16 year old, but no - I was 33.

I'm sure you can see where this is going.

On May 16th, after coming back from a friend's son's christening, we decided to take a hpt. This was the 40th day of my cycle and even though I was feeling a bit crampy, we decided to just make sure.

You cannot imagine seeing the second, faint pink line and feeling panic - What if it's affected? To want to get pregnant so badly and be so afraid of getting pregnant at the same time is just odd - and I will never get used to it. This wasn't safe, it wasn't planned. It was the 'old fashioned' way, which for us was a scary concept.

I told Mr. R; he thought I was kidding. We immediately thought of termination. I also called my aunt Cyna, who is the greatest godsend of a woman. She was supportive of our decision, whatever it was. She has been there for me in ways my own mother never could. (She called me every day of my IVF cycle to see how I was feeling, what my results were, what my meds were. She was so excited for us! She was always so happy and cheerful; laughter just flowed from her lips and it was so natural! She's 180º different from my mother, but that's a post for another day).

The next day I called Planned Parenthood. I actually went to Planned Parenthood. Everyone there was kind and sensitive, and I scheduled the abortion later that week. As I talked this whole situation over with Mr. R, we kept wondering: but what if it's healthy? There certainly was that possibility. So I cancelled the appointment & called my ob/gyn.

We were going to find out just where this would lead us.

As Good As It Gets

2005-05-29T18:44:00.000-04:00

Ah, I remember our very first appointment with our Reproductive Endocrinologist. Which was funny, in a way, being that neither of us was "fertility challenged." It was September 24, 2003. I had just turned 33. We found out how the stimulation cycle would work, the retrival of my little oocytes, the fertilization through ICSI, the biopsy, the prelimplantation genetic diagnosis, the transfer, the progesterone injections, the pregnancy test - we were all set.

That first cycle, which started in January of 2004, yeilded 11 eggs, 8 of which fertilized. They were able to biopsy all 8 on day 3 and send them for PGD testing. We got a call on day 5 to come in for the transfer, which was great - there would actually be something to transfer! When we arrived an hour later (since we live an hour away), the doctor went over the PGD report with us. Out of the 8, 3 were unaffected. One of the three had arrested, so we had two that were healthy and unaffected with the genetic mutation. They were going in!

They performed the transfer, and the doctor and staff were so sweet and hopeful. We went home, I took it easy, and we waited until the pregnancy test. When I went for the test, I told Ron they wouldn't have the results until the following day. This way, when it was positive, I could surprise him. Going though IVF doesn't leave a lot of surprise moments between a couple. I read these cute little antedotes in Fit Pregnancy magazine about how expecting mothers told their husbands they would soon be fathers, and thought, couldn't I do something like that? Well, here's my chance! They called the same day, and, beacuse I just never considered the alternative, told me the test was positive - I was pregnant! Yay! What were the numbers, I inquired? 45, acceptably positive, I reasoned. I never let on, even though Mr. Right was sitting next to me when I got the call.

I had bought two pacifiers (just in case), put them in a little gift bag, and gave Mr. R a card that evening telling him we were going to be parents. I was so not prepared for his reaction.

"IT WORKED!" he exclaimed as he jumped up and down. He was really excited, as was I and we hugged and kissed and started dreaming about whether it would be one or two, boy or girl. It was a lovely Saturday, and we were just thrilled.

Then Monday popped up, and I went back for my second hCG level, so that they could verify the numbers were going up, as of course they must be.

The phone rang, about 2pm Monday. The numbers, it turned out had gone down. To 26. I still had hope. Maybe they had both implanted, an then one stopped developing. It could happen, right? Well, I suppose it could, but not in this case.

Looking back, we had no idea that that was as good as it was going to get.

Let's Start at the Beginning (it's as Good a Place as Any)

2005-05-08T22:45:00.000-04:00

This is my first time with a blog. I've read some of the infertiles' posts and pregnant infertiles' posts, and wanted a place to vent /discuss my treatment/trials/tribulations. (It seems terrible, classifying these dear people by their difficulty in trying to conceive and/or carry a child, but this is what I've read).

Today is Mother's Day. I just got my most recent negative hCG test yesterday. Fantastic timing, especially since I had so many symptoms, and I would have bet my house I was pregnant.

Since this is brand spankin' new, let me sum up what has brought me to this point.

For as long as I can recall, my mother had difficulty walking. The proverbial 'they' thought it was Multiple Sclerosis, although all of her tests were negative for MS. Her mother had difficulty getting around as well, but no one was sure what the cause was. Over the years both she and my mom progressed steadily and slowly, and my mother required a wheelchair once I was in high school. My only sibling, my 18 month younger brother, started to have gait, bowel and bladder problems at 18. Red flag! Something was clearly going on. When I was 24 and working reception at a neurologists' office, I mentioned this family history to one of the doctors who was intrigued. He brought my mother and brother in, examined them and sent them for a series of tests. We discovered that my brother had adrenoleukodystrophy (ALD), and my mother was a symptomatic carrier. My sweet grandmother, who passed away from a brain tumor when I was 17, had apparently also been a symptomatic carrier.
This is an X-linked trait. Since males are XY, affected males will have the disease. As females are XX, the other X supports the affected X, and the symptoms are lessened. Males can pass on the disease on their daughters, who will be carriers, but not their sons. Female carriers can pass it on to sons and daughters. Or have healthy children.

Everyone else in my mom's family (2 brothers & 2 sisters) was tested, which revealed one of her brothers had the disease. I was also a carrier. My uncle was fortunate enough to start developing symptoms at about 50 years of age. That was 10 years ago, and he has progressed to this point of using a cane. Thankfully he and my aunt had only boys so the disease ends with him. My brother, who is now 33, is wheelchair bound and has no strength or sensation in his legs. He has little to no bowel or bladder control. His adrenal glands produce insufficient amounts of cortisone, so he has daily cortisone injections. Due to these injections, it has increased his blood sugar levels so he is now an insulin dependent diabetic.

Despite all these problems, he is arguably 'fortunate'. When this disease manifests itself later in life, it's called adrenomyleoneuopathy (AMN). It's the same disease, just the adult onset. The ALD childhood onset may start anywhere from 4 to 8 years of age. Symptoms include an ADD-like disorder, spastic gait, progressive impairment of vision, hearing, and motor function. Rate of progression to total disability varies from 6 months to two years, followed by death at varying ages. So he is certainly lucky he was spared this fate. His condition may never progress to his brain, but only time will tell.

Mr. Right and I were married in August of 2001, and we were glad we could enjoy our honeymoon before All Heck Broke Loose on 9/11. After I turned 32, we thought we should start thinking about having kids. We met with a genetic counselor to discuss our options of having a healthy child of our own. We were thrilled to discover we had options! First we had to test my DNA to discover the exact genetic mutation. Discover it they did - oddly it was the year of my brother's birth: nucleotide 1972A.

(I'm a mutant! Too bad it's not as cool as Rogue or Jean Grey; I only have the ability to pass on an affliction to my offspring.
; p)

Our options were:

A. Get pregnant and do chorionic villus sampling (CVS) to test the fetus for the ALD gene mutation. (This was not our preferable option, as we were determined to prevent passing this gene on to another generation and condemning our child to suffering with this disease. At all costs).

B. Go through IVF, biopsy the day 3 embryos and perform preimplantation genetic diagnosis (PGD). What this means is that the single cell biopsied samples are sent via courier to Michigan, where the kind genius doctor and his team are standing by. Once they receive the cells, they perform a marathon testing session until they identify which of the embryos are affected males, carrier females, or completely unaffected. Then the IVF facility calls me in to transfer the unaffected embryos back into my happy waiting uterus and I get pregnant.

Naturally, we were going with Option B.

It turned out to be a bit more complicated than we had (naively) hoped.