Saturday, August 22, 2009

Well, why not!

Why did I chuckle (and leave it at that) when my hairstylist playfully smacked me on the shoulder and said "You're so lucky you don't have kids. You really are!"?

Why did I decide to pursue a professional writing project on the topic of IVF?

Why has Celine Dion already announced a pregnancy not due to culminate until next May?*

*And, btw, is her p-stick even dry yet?

Monday, August 17, 2009

What do people do with extra rooms?

I recently mentioned that we have this empty room I'm wanting to fill.

I don't craft. Not even a little bit. Don't want to, not gonna. So any kind of craft room/project room/gift-wrapping room would make much less sense than even an empty room.

It's too small to be a TV room. And besides, we already watch TV/movies in the family room.

The room is also too small to house the exercise equipment we own but almost never use (recumbent bicycle, ski machine). Never mind that we'd have to carry the equipment up the stairs from the basement. Funny how we used it in our last, smaller house, but the family room setup there made it possible to work out in front of the TV. Can't really do that here, and for some reason working out at home without the option of watching some show you don't need to see hasn't caught on.

I'm thinking that the only real choice is to make it a reading room. Or a sitting room. Or a reading-sitting-music room. It's not big, but we could fit maybe 2 chairs and a table in there . . . or a small sleeper couch and a chair. Always room for a bookshelf or two. This seems most practical, but at the same time I feel like "WHY?" when it's just the two of us and we have multiple rooms already equipped to handle readers/sitters/music players.

If we REALLY wanted to stay in this house long-, long-term, we could knock out some walls and create a ginormous master suite. But. We don't need that. And. If we're going to start messing with walls, we'd probably do something with the kitchen instead.

Seems like the choice is clear, doesn't it? Still, I'm willing to entertain ideas if anyone else has any.

Friday, August 7, 2009

Saying it with a song

I almost hate to file the complaint prompting this post.

Truly, I've been the recipient of so very few pieces of unsolicited TTC advice since saddling up for the rodeo 6 years ago. And for that I feel . . . unique.

But I'll be hanged if I didn't just recently get some. TTC "at your age" advice, I mean. It made no sense to me AT ALL that I was getting it. My adviser, you see, knows that TTC is off the table at my house. That that life phase is over. (Did, dad, dud.)

As you know, my dear readers, the decision to end said phase was not made blithely. So I'm sure you can imagine that hearing out-of-the-blue advice about how I might just get knocked up "at home" after all (seriously?) — and with the clear implication that I should be thankful to hear it, not to mention impressed that the adviser held her tongue while I was actually trying to start a family — felt a bit slappy.

I'm not going to offer particulars about the specific words of wisdom or who threw them in my face as though I might easily expect to pass a fully gestated baby into the toilet the next time I relieved myself. I will, however, say that I think I handled it casually. Politely. Yet definitively.

What I didn't do was point out how my advice-giver has absolutely no flipping clue. Where I am and where I've been on this path — at full-on 44, with intimate knowledge of my own, actual fertility profile and reproductive history, years of both so-called natural methods and medical interventions under my belt, having ALREADY researched the hell out of relevant-to-me topics all along the way, past tense — IS where I've been and where I am. I don't need no stinking Monday-morning quarterbacking.

In a fun moment of happenstance, I watched Postcards from the Edge last night and thought this number perfectly captured my experience and sentiments on a number of butt-kicking levels.

My favorite lyrics snippet, in case you'd rather not sit through the video:

"I've run the gamut, A to Z. Three cheers, and dammit, c'est la vie. I got through all of last year, and I'm here. Lord knows, at least I was there . . . and I'm here."

Thursday, August 6, 2009


Like my webby screen shot?

I just changed the age in my sidebar to reflect the reality ushered in 2 weeks ago today.

In the biggest picture, I am fine with owning and acknowledging my real age. But in certain picture-in-picture moments, I am somewhat less than fine with what I know to be true.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

Hair of the dog

Having decided that perhaps I've actually climbed out of the deepest ditch of grief related to all . . . this, I've recently tasked myself with curing what I view as my lingering IF hangover.

Doing so involves actively adding things back into my life that I've avoided for the past 7 or 8 months. I'm talking things that I associate with IF, treatments, The Clinic, and/or loss — but that still have a place in my real life, post bender.


Consult with the acupuncturist that helped me through the IVFs. I don't think I've blogged about this . . . but as my body chemistry tries to reclaim its formerly glorious groove after treatments/pregnancy, I've been experiencing bouts of pronounced hormonal hijinks that result in, among other things, regular pains to the head. It all started with biweekly migraines (December through March) before settling into a much more palatable pattern of lesser — but still sometimes sick — headaches: I can expect them at O time, the middle of the LP (hello, Estrogen Dip), just before Auntie F shows, and then one more time as AF sputters to an uncomfortable end.

The clinic's primary acupuncturist has agreed to help me ease into a new hormonal "normal." Mostly using (inexpensive) herbs, and also with occasional needlings. I've clearly gotten better on my own with time, increased exercise, and learning how to recognize/respond to signals in time to help either preempt or soften any head games. But, these spells (or whatever the hell) are disruptive to my typical days of otherwise feeling healthy, sane, and not so sad. Time to take care of it.

Get back to using a few, but not all, of the supplements I used to enhance fertility. Some I do not need. But others really help keep my perimenopausal (one can only assume) system on an even keel, and adding them back in — after going cold turkey, mind you — has helped with the headaches and, by default, my general mood.

Put a new mammogram appointment on the books. I canceled 2 appointments in 2008 due to pregnancy. Continuing to put off scheduling one now helps no one.

Do the business of life near both local clinic branches (when it makes sense to). That means eating at at area restaurants, visiting the acupuncturist's near-one-clinic's office, patronizing a favorite market, and feeling zen about driving through the 2 rather large swaths of the greater metro area I'd been completely avoiding.

Schedule more visits with family, both here and there. This is no small thing. I did visit my parents in March (which was difficult not because of them, but because it took SO much energy for me to act okay), but we need to put ourselves back in circulation as a couple, as our special brand of family unit. As it stands right now, some of our people are coming here in September, and we are visiting others in December.

Bow out or in, as I like. I'm cutting out a few things I took on during my flinging phase (which was good for me, btw) that I just do not want to do. I'm also getting back into a couple of things I gave up but came to realize weren't an actual problem.

plan what to do with that extra bedroom. You know, for a couple of months (okay, 4 or 5), my desire to sell the house was strong. It's bigger than we need and not of the style/location we'd have chosen had we known. But now is not the time for us to sell. I'm over the intense resentment I felt toward the house and ready to peacefully exist in it until it truly is time to move on. That room must be good for something.

Call the clinic to settle a couple of things. Namely, (1) to find out whether we have any sort of credit on account and how quickly a refund might be issued if we do (although I'm pretty sure we don't), and (2) to donate DH's banked swimmers to research or something so we can stop paying the storage fee.

File last year's freaking taxes. That's right, I got an extension. The 2008 filing will include big fat mention of our big fat out-of-pocket medical expenses. I couldn't deal with it in January and didn't feel that much better about it come April. I'm ready to clear the air of it now, though. Hoping Uncle Sammy won't get all curious. We certainly have all receipts and such, but still. That part makes me nervous.

Things to do, things to do!