Things To Say

I've got them, believe it or not.  I have thoughts I want to share on being a donor egg mom, about remembering to live in the moment, about continuing to heal from IF hell, about how excited I am that the IRL support group I host has been able to expand to include a primary infertility only meeting, even some thoughts on parenting in general.

But what I have time for is this:

I am not much a fan of Christmas.  Early on I hated the way it overshadowed my birthday (I will be 43 on the 19th), then I learned to dislike the commercialization and the way Christmas music blasted in all the stores now seems to have the undertone of "buy, buy, buy".  Then I went from agnostic to atheist and the"Christ" part of Christmas seems silly.  I still celebrate because the secular part of it is fun and I tend to think of it more of a solstice celebration than anything - which is probably the origins of the holiday.

One thing I love though, is the lights.  In these long, dark, nights, I love to drive around and see all the lights.  I think we should stop calling them Christmas Lights and start calling them Winter Lights.  They should go up by mid November and stay until the end of January.

When I am in charge, I will make it so. 

Happy Solstice to everyone.  May you enjoy what you can and survive the rest.

Dying The Slow Death

I think that may be the fate of my blog.  It is not my intention, but it seems to be happening.  I am not ready to officially walk away and maybe things will swing in the posting direction again.

Just a quick drive by today with a fark.com-like tag line:

You notice that you might just have some pre-fertile mucus do you: A) Mentally shrug your shoulders then forget all about it.  B) Not-so-fondly remember your trying to conceive days and be thankful that those days are over. or C) Start mentally composing your text message to your babysitter to discreetly ask if she can babysit Wednesday, Thursday or maybe Friday and if she could please take the kids to her house this time - because you can't pass up the chance for a free baby no matter how remote the possibility.

Tomorrow will mark the 6th anniversary of Ernest's birth.  There are so many what if's that go along with that. 

His younger sisters are doing great.  They can play together more and more every day and there are many times I think, "I am meant to do this (to be a mother)."  Not in any spiritual sense, but by my genetic and environmental programming.  It is nice to be on the other side.

Perfect Moment Monday: Remembering

Lori always puts a caption at the beginning of her Perfect Moment Monday post:

Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one.

A couple of nights ago I was reading a story to LB to help her fall asleep.  I was exhausted as none of us had slept well the night before due to the common cold.  I knew it wasn't going to be a quick evening read because LB had taken a late, long nap.  I cuddled up next to her in her big-girl-bed and we sat up knowing that asking her to lie down would only fuel her fight to stay awake.  Half way through the first book with a mental song of "I am so tired.  I just want to go to sleep." looping through my head, I remembered.  I remembered that the perfect moment is now.  I remembered that this is what I longed for and that even if we read together at night until she was out of college, it will eventually come to an end.

I gave her a side hug and embraced this very special moment.  We finished the Dr. Seuss Sleep Book and we were half way though "Good Night Emily" before she decided she preferred to lay down.  It still took awhile to for her to fall asleep, but it was enjoyed by all.

I am also remembering another very special time.  Today, 3 years ago, we retrieved the eggs that brought us LB and LBII (goodness, I need better names . . . any suggestions?).  As Belinda said recently, "It was the summer our lives were entwined."  It was indeed.  In some ways, our lives will always be entwined even if we don't see each other as much anymore.

Perfect Moment Monday: Bike Ride

How has so much time gone by since I posted last?   Partly because my employer has cracked down on non-work related internet time.  Not that I blog at work, of course.

In a nutshell:  Brad and I got to go for over an hour long bike ride together.  Sans kids.  It was the first ride I have taken without towing - or Brad towing if we are together - since LB was born - over 2 years.  I used to ride at least 3 days / week between April and September.  Gosh, I have missed it.  It just isn't the same when you have to worry about the well being of a munchkin or two behind you.  The ride was great and it was also wonderful to feel like a couple again. 

We rode along a local bike trail along a river that I used to take to work.  I used to watch as the summer season unfolded and ended.  The river would rise and subside again.  The trees would be bare, then bud, then in full leaf, and finally turn color.  The wildflowers would bloom and die.  The trail would start off pretty empty, then fill with people biking and wading in the river, then disappear again as the morning became to chilly. 

Thinking about the seasons coming and going and how our lives have unfolded from marriage through ttc to parenting too also made me contemplative of how time goes - moving so slowly while TTC and suddenly all too quickly.  It also made me appreciate the moment I was experience, knowing it would end too soon.
 
Perfect Moment Monday is about noticing a perfect moment rather than creating one. Perfect moments can be momentous or ordinary or somewhere in between

Perfect Moment Monday: Sunday Afternoon

Douglass Adams describes Sunday afternoons as 'the long dark tea-time of the soul'. The weekend is all but over and Monday morning is looming large.  If I recall correctly, he even has one of his characters give up immortality because of those Sunday afternoons were too much.  Or was it to have fresh linen every night?

The point is that we are no exception to feeling 'the blues' on a late Sunday afternoon.  I think this is where 'living in the moment' can be so important.  There is nothing positive to add to a Sunday by dwelling on the coming Monday so yesterday in order to shake those blues we decided to throw the kids in the cart and go for a walk.

Well, that was the plan.  LB wanted to walk so Daddy pushed the cart with the infant I could have carried while we strolled down the road with the sun at our backs. We waved at our shadows and watched them disappear and re-appear as we walked under trees.  To our unending delight, LB would shout "Oh, there I am!" when her shadow would re-appear.

We ended up walking to the nearby baker where we earned our parents-of-the-year award by sharing our chocolate cake and iced tea with L B (Could that be why she didn't fall asleep until over an hour after her normal bedtime?).  LBII got held and passed around to the delight of the baristas who loved to watch LBII's total-body-smile. 

After too short of a stay we headed back home.  LBII got a little fussy so I put her in a sling for the rest of the trim and LB took turns with Brad reading her book aloud (she has parts memorized).  We all took turns repeating the phrase "I love summer!"  Well, LBII didn't say it aloud, but I am sure she was thinking it.

We forgot all about Monday morning and had a perfectly delightful time.

For other Perfect Moments, visit Lori's blog.

Random Musings

Brad has been out of town the last couple of nights and perhaps that is why I have been lying awake wondering about things I have and will have no answer to.  I hope that is it because he will be home tonight and I can stop trying to find answers in tea leaves.

• My neighbor across the street pulled his own tooth for lack of health care / money and he listens to right wing radio that is typically against universal health care.
• I am sad that all three of my births ended up in a hospital yet I know of people who were never able to carry a baby to term . . . I should be grateful not sad.
• What is the point of a life?  In the end we just die.  Hopefully enjoy it a bit along the way . . . which can lead me to think that I wish I had a bigger house or lived in the country or someplace warmer.  Then I remember my friends in West Africa who have so few options in where they live or what they do.  They call the rainy season (the current season) the starving season since the old crop is running out and the new crop isn't in yet.
• If everyone in the world lived as well as I did we would have very serious resource issues.
• What are nano particles and genetically modified foods and wi-fi and cell towers going to do to our bodies / environment.  Perhaps the answer is "nothing much"
• We need to have our house mitigated for radon.  I think.
• Why do top movie stars make millions and top scientists make in the hundred's of thousands?
• A homeless man got kicked out of a bakery I was at while he was eating a 7-11 hotdog.  I was reading about Chelsea Clinton's 3 million dollar wedding.
• I have decided Sting's song Shape of My Heart is perfect for IVF . . . at least the first part: 
  
  

  He deals the cards as a meditation
  And those he plays never suspect
  He doesn't play for the money he wins
  He doesn't play for respect
  He deals the cards to find the answers
  The sacred geometry of chance
  The hidden law of a probable outcome
  The numbers lead a dance

• Rewarding times and happy times can be different but are both important.  When you look back on events in life with fondness, are they more likely to be rewarding or happy?  
• The odds of conceiving our first child the way we did were extremely low - virtually impossible. But we did and then he died.  How does that make sense?
• 90% of us have had our real income go down in the last 40 years.  The top 1% income bracket has seen their income triple. Why don't the 90% of us unite and do something about it?

Life.  Human life.  I just don't get it.

PTSD, Vanity And Miscelaney

Somewhere in a post before the birth of LB back in June of 2008, I posted about being afraid I wouldn't be able to take pride in our DE child(ren).  Given my belief that we are mostly who we are programmed to be, I thought I might feel a bit removed when someone compliments my child(ren).  For the most part, that has turned out not to be true.  I still feel a bit odd when someone makes a comment like, "You make beautiful children."  My mental answer is, "Uh, that's not really me, but thanks anyway."  Usually, however, I just glow with pride. 

Maybe I am vain, but I guess I do take some credit for who they are.  Or maybe I just enjoy seeing other people appreciate and/or enjoy what I appreciate and enjoy so much.  I still think the kids are who they are and while I hope to be an influential guide, in the end I am just a guide.  The good thing is that seems to be more than enough.  I may have felt differently had they been of my genes as well but I don't believe that to be the case.  

It is on my mind today because I took the girls to the clinic where they were conceived to drop off brochures*.  It was fun showing them off.  LB even did her imitation of By.once's Sin.gle Ladies (well, the first couple of lines and if you didn't know what to look / listen for you would never know; but I love it).  While I really enjoyed seeing a couple of the people who helped bring about these two little loves of my life, going back to the clinic triggered a strong negative reaction.  I hoped I was sufficiently over it by now, but as I turned up the hill that heads to the clinic, my heart started racing and my palms got sweaty.  Once I was inside and committed and wasn't waiting for a blood draw and u/s, I relaxed a bit; but several hours later I am still feeling the effects.  (Or maybe it is the mocha I had for breakfast.  Don't "tsk tsk" me.  Brad is leaving for 2 days and LBII was up a lot last night.  I needed it.)

I wonder when these things will get easier.  At least I only stop by the clinic a few times a year to drop off brochures and I could always mail them in.  I would say the bigger issues are things like going to the park.  Am I the only one who goes to the park early to avoid the fertiles?   LB loves to see other kids so there is the tension between wanting to flee when fertiles show up for my sake and wanting to stay for LB's.  It never seems to fail - especially on the days I am doing well - I will overhear some parent being a complete a$$ to his/her child or talking on a cell phone the entire time or just plain producing ugly children.  No, I am not very charitable to the more fertile of our society although I make exceptions for the people I know personally.

I am sure I have said it before . . . "I'm not bitter, I am consumed with hate."  I am kidding.  Mostly.

In other news, I hurt my back the other day lunging for LBII who was about to do a face plant onto the patio.  I have never been in so much pain.  I ended up calling a babysitter to watch the girls while Brad took me to the ER for some meds.  I won't tell you how I almost made the trip in an ambulance because I couldn't figure out how to get off the floor. 

I made sure I got meds that were safe(ish) with breastfeeding, but I was so loopy afterwords I was glad Brad picked up a bottle and formula so I could sleep through the night.  As fate would have it, by the time I got back home and in bed I was wide awake again.  I swear, if the pain was an 8 when I went in, it was still a 7 with the pain meds and muscle relaxant.  Fortunately, 8 days, one deep tissue massage and two cranial-sacral massages later and I am 80% better.  I only took the meds for a day, but I am keeping the rest in case it happens again.  I am also going to start working on my core strength a little more diligently.

To end on a happy note, LB has started singing.  Can I say how much I enjoy belting out "Let's Go Fly A Kite" from Mary Poppins with our little one?  Good times.

*Local PSA:  I host a peer to peer infertility support group.  If you are in the area - Spokane, Eastern Washington, Northern Idaho - and are interested please email me at myinfertilityadventure@gmail.com.  We have a pretty active group right now and meet once a month in the evening and lately once a month during a week day.  If you are in infertility hell and don't want to talk with people who are currently parenting - I understand and will do my best to get you together with one or more of our ladies currently trying to conceive / adopt their first child.

Perfect Moment Monday: Water

I have decided that one of the reasons I am not blogging as much lately is that I am too tired to string more that a few words together at a time.  How tired?  Sufficiently tired that yesterday morning - after 9 hours in bed - I was able to fall back asleep 4 of the 5 times I was woken up between 6 am and 7 am. 

I'm not complaining. Well, I am, but it is still worth it.

I want to follow up on that article in the previous post.  I'm not getting around to it so to put it simply and bluntly:

• I appreciated the comments.  Thank you.
• I agree with the comments - parenthood is rewarding, I don't regret having kids and I don't take enough time to myself (RJ - I mentally went on that solo bike ride with you)
• Parenthood does well in studies that measure rewarding vs pleasurable activities.  That's great and all, but why shouldn't it be happier moment to moment too?
• I wonder how infertile parents would compare to fertile ones.  I suspect we would would score better on all counts.
• I think more time to myself is key.
• I think lack of sleep is a big contributor to my feelings of sadness.
• I think I am grieving the loss again of my easy-to-conceive-genetic-child-born-gently-at-home.  Or I'm just tired and this is something to pin "the blues" on.
• After trying to notice the times I am happily parenting and not-so-happily parenting I have decided that the good times beat out the not-so-good times by around 10 to 1.
• Which brings me to this weeks Perfect Moment Monday.

I was watering the plants around the patio when LB asked to take over.  I gave her the hose and for the next 30 minutes sat on the step while she flooded my herb garden, watered the patio, herself, the cat (well, tried), the firepit and a bench.  As she dragged the house around she would occasionally drag it right over a plant or two.

Sitting on that step in the warm summer air and watching my two year old get soaked from head to toe while potentially doing damage to the plants I worked so hard to plant and cultivate . . . well, it was wonderful.  I thought, "This is what I imagined and longed for for all of those years - moments like this."  I makes you remember how something so simple as water coming out of a hose can be so much fun.