I wish you a happy VD

A couple weeks ago, a friend & I were discussing Valentine’s day, and my total hatred for the holiday. She was a bit surprised at my vehemence about the day.

Let me start by saying my dislike of V-day does not stem from a horrible childhood or teen years where I did not receive flowers from a crush or any unrequited love issues.  When I was a kid, I loved V-day. Making little mailboxes out of an old shoebox. Decorating it with glitter and crimped ribbons and putting the little slot in the top-making sure it was big enough for candy to fit through as well.  Then I would painstakingly go through each card I was to give to my classmates.  I remember My Little Pony, Rainbow Bright, Star Wars, Popples and Pound Puppy cards.  Some were more romantic than others, so obviously those had to be reserved for the special boy(s) of the year. My mom always got the variety candy for me to use with the cards, so I would pick out my favorite candy and also reserve that for the love of the week.  It was a long, arduous process.  Then, the next day at school, the frenzy began.  Each person would laugh and run around the classroom, placing their cards & gifts into the shoeboxes perched on the corner of the desks.  We would try and sneak in the card to our “loves” while they weren’t looking, for fear of embarrassment if they saw us put it in directly.  Then we would sit at our desks and eagerly open each card and sort through the candy, all the while watching our crushes out of the corner of our eyes, trying to gauge their reaction to our specific card.  Of course, all the cards look exactly the same from afar.  And attention still had to be paid to our own gifts.  And then the day was over.  We would swoon for a few days over a particular card or two, trying to put much more meaning into the “you are my candy girl” saying than was truly meant. Then we moved onto different things and different holidays.  Pinch me if I’m not wearing green!!!  Tee hee hee. 

Later, in middle school and high school, the stakes were higher.  Not everyone got a card from me. Just the special one guy at the time.  And, of course, all my best friends.  If there wasn’t a special guy at the moment, the single girls would swoon over the flowers/teddy bear/box of candy that our attached friends received.  We would secretly be jealous. We would watch the breakups of the couples who didn’t do it correctly.  “Jimmy didn’t get you flowers and chocolate and a necklace?  Gees, he gets like $3 a week in allowance.  Why couldn’t he buy it for you???  What a jerk. You were right to dump him.”  So what if they got back together the next week?  It was all about taking a stand! 

So, I enjoyed Valentine’s Day the way it was meant to be enjoyed during the younger years, when “true love” was fickle and changed monthly (or sometimes daily).   Then I grew up. 

I realized that if my significant other needs a specific day to tell me he loves me, there is something wrong in the relationship.   Hallmark, Sees Candy and 1-800-Flowers says you must show me you love me on this very day. 

Men (and women for that matter) painstakingly chose the right card to say everything they aren’t capable of saying themselves.  The card expresses all their emotions and thoughts just right, in the perfect way, describing their relationship exactly as the unique love that it is (and every other relationship that picks the same card).  They sign “I love you” and their name.

Sharing feelings that someone else wrote?  Check!

Next is the candy.  Why on earth candy is a part of “I love you”, I’ll never understand.  Little chalk-tasting hearts with cute little “email me” sayings.  That’s opening up!  A box of wax-like chocolate treats for $30?  It’s the thought that counts.  And the “those damn chocolates went straight to my thighs” for the next 3 months. 

Flowers!!  Oh flowers.  Buy a bouquet of roses in July as an anniversary present, and it’s $19.99 plus a delivery fee.  Buy a bouquet of roses for Valentine’s Day?  $69.99 if preordered by January 1^st, delivery not guaranteed on the 14^th of February and no refunds if they are dead or if they are carnations.  What? You want to throw in a little teddy bear with a “be mine” heart?  Oh, that’s an extra $14.99 and it may end up being a left over Halloween spider.  No refunds or returns. 

And then, my personal favorite, is the jewelry.  Girls, you weren’t special enough to get that heart-shaped diamond necklace you’ve been begging for the whole year.  Until today.  When all your friends got the same one because there was a sale last week.  And the original proposals!!  We got engaged on Valentine’s Day.  Awwwww!!!  So did 90% of every other couple!  How special and original.  He sure put a lot of planning into it.  Of course, the waiter put your ring in the desert of the other table because that guy over there, too, was proposing tonight.

Also, the whole day comes down to the man’s responsibility.  The man has to buy the presents, get the sappy card, make the reservations and basically be who he really isn’t good at being.  All because the calendar says it is February 14^th.  That’s a lot of pressure.  And women really stick it to the guy if they don’t meet expectations.  Sad, but true. 

So, it really comes down to me just disliking the whole basis of the day.  If you love me, tell me.  Every day.  For no reason at all.  Because you love me.  Not because Hallmark and Kay Jewelers says you have to .  Buy me flowers because I am having a bad day, or it’s my birthday, or our anniversary.  A day special to us as a couple. Propose when you want to, not when you feel you are obligated to.  Take your significant other out to dinner to celebrate your love other than the day you are required  to be in love.

The very first Valentine’s Day Keith & I were dating, he got me some flowers and a little hanging monkey.  I did the appropriate swooning and pictures.  I still have the monkey hanging from our bedpost.  And then I told him if he ever wasted money on the day again, I’d kill him.  His words?  “God I love you!” 

Maybe I’m just one of the lucky ones.  He tells me every day that he loves me. Numerous times a day.  With each phone call.  Each email.  Each text message.  We never go to sleep without a kiss goodnight.  We never run to the corner market without “loveyoubye” being said.  A phone call isn’t over until “love you, love you too” is uttered.  He will buy me little gifts because he saw it and wanted to make me smile.  I will get him a card or put a note in his lunchbox because the mood struck me. 

Screw the calendar.  Every day is Valentine’s Day for us.  And I think that’s why I don’t like the holiday.  If every day isn’t Valentine’s Day in your relationship, you may need a different calendar. 

Anniversary Time

Today is our 4 year wedding anniversary. Yay!  I always take the first shower in the morning, and normally when I leave the bathroom, Keith is either still in bed (80% of the time), or he's in the kitchen feeding the mutts.  This morning, he was in the kitchen, but on the bed was a bouquet of Daisy's, a pillow pet and a Kindle gift card!  Such a sweet guy.  For those of you that don't know, Daisy's are my favorite flowers.  I'm positively obsessed with the color baby blue and dolphins.  And I just got a Kindle. So, it was all around a very perfect present-cluster!  Love that man o' mine!

We're going to Epi's tonight for dinner.  It is an amazing basque restaurant that is in a tiny little house, owned and run by two sisters.  It probably seats 40 people at the most.  They make it a very fun experience and the food it to die for.  This will be the 3rd anniversary we spend there, and they remember us by name and number each time!  I'm going to attack those lamb-chops like a fat kid on donuts in Krispie Kream! 

A Heavy Topic

Oh, weight.  And Infertility. How I loathe thee.

So, here's the story:

- my “fat” pants started fitting like those emo-skinny pants that kids wear now.

-I’m Italian.  That means you don’t leave the table without seconds. Ever. It also means that breads, pasta and other starches are the…eh hem…bread and butter of meals.

- I realized that I had two very distinct stomachs.  Split horizontally, not vertically. I have a muffin and a muffin top.

-I got winded walking up the one flight of stairs to our bonus room.

-I don’t drink beer.  Or wine (mostly).  But I do enjoy my sweet “girlie” drinks.  Which, of course, are loaded with soda, sugar, simple syrup, and sweetness.  And occasionally ice cream.  And sugar-rimmed glasses.  And lots of maraschino cherries.

-I don’t like chocolate became an excuse to gorge on gummy worms from my co-worker’s office. Which I just discovered have 293 calories per 10 worms.  I normally ate about 20 worms.  That is almost 600 calories PER SNACK!!!!!

-my stomachs started protruding further than my boobs.  Really?? Even after the surgery, it’s still hard to get bigger than my boobs!

-I asked a friend to tie my shoes because I didn’t want to bend over my stomachs to do it myself.

-I looked at our wedding picture and wistfully thought of how tiny I was; when in reality, I needed to lose weight back then.

-I became unable to shop in the regular sections, but had to start migrating to the “plus”.

-I got out of breath on a brisk 10-minute walk with a co-worker.

-I looked in our pantry and realized there was more processed food and junk than there was healthy food or fruits & veggies.

-I started wearing shorts & a T-shirt to the water park instead of a swim suit.

-I didn’t even try to stop gaining the normal “IVF-15”. 

-I started using infertility and IVF as my excuse to eat whatever I wanted and not exercise.

-I actually started thinking of more and more excuses: I’m grumpy, so I’m eating candy.  I’ve had a hard day, so I’m drinking this soda. I don’t feel like cooking, so I’ll order a pizza.  I forgot to thaw out chicken, so let’s go out. I walked 2 miles yesterday, so I don’t have to move for the next week.  I have a headache/stomachache/shoulder ache.  I didn’t sleep well last night. I have to write this report after work.

- “I’ll admit I’m the laziest person I know” became painfully true.

-I noticed that I had finally topped-out.  My weight hasn’t gone up in 2 months, and I’ve never been heavier than this. Phew.  Wait, what???  Why is that a good thing???

-I desperately want to believe that “I’m not fat, I’m fluffy” is a valid statement.

-Chili’s has 2 for 1 fajitas on Monday night.  They are sinfully good.  We are friends with the bartender (because we went so often), which means most the time, our drinks are free.  So, we could have a couple of drinks & beef fajitas for $20.  What a deal!!  Every. Week.

I’ve dealt with depression before in my life.  I made the mistake - one time, long ago -  of going on Prozac. That did nothing.  I had a sleep study once (1999) and the only thing that came out of it was that I was depressed.  I told them if they met my (ex) husband, they’d be depressed, too.  I finally came to learn that, for me at least, depression was simply due to the circumstances of my life and what I decided to do about it.  I climbed my way out of the hole I was in (and the marriage), discovered the ME that had been lost for so long, and became a happier person.  Issue done. 

I have finally realized in the past 2-3 years, I am depressed again.  Not the same type of depression. This depression has been due to infertility.

I am so amazingly happy with my life now.  Sometimes, I still don’t believe that I have earned this happiness and I’m afraid I’ll do something to lose it. So, I know how precious it is and I truly appreciate it.  However, when it comes to infertility, I get in this black closet of depression.  I feel less-than.  Less than a woman, a wife, a (future) mother. Even less than a friend to those with children and less than an aunt to all my precious family members.  There is a stigma that goes with childless people.  Because I don’t have children of my own, I’ll never understand the powerful love that parents feel for their children.  I’ll never understand what it’s like to be a parent.  Until I have kids of my own, I’m just less of a person.  Now, I don’t believe this for a second.  Hell, I’m a better parent now than half the jackoffs that actually have kids.  I know unconditional love that I would kill for and that overwhelms me because it is so strong. I have that for my husband, my family and my friends.  And for all their children.  But, I also feel like I’m letting everyone down. Keith has so much to give a child, I feel horrible for not being able to give him that gift.  My parents and in-laws are the absolute most AMAZING grandparents on earth, and I can’t give them more grandchildren to love.  My nieces & nephews want cousins to play with, and I can’t give that to them.  I can’t share my “cute kid” story or my “you won’t believe what Johnny did” story, so people tend to not share their stories with me.

So, I’ve become depressed.  It makes me sad to hear of pregnancy stories.  I mean, I am very happy, too!  I love to see my loved ones have happiness in their lives and I love enjoying it with them.  But, ultimately, I will think about my lack of that same happiness.  This leads me to be lazy. And to eat.  And to make excuses.  Granted, it is a fact that every fertility treatment is basically a guarantee of weight gain.  However, I used that as an excuse to allow the weight to stay on. 

So, I’m done with excuses (mostly).  I know that I’ll have lazy days.  I know I’ll lose motivation. I really, really, really, really, reeeeeeaaaaaaallllllllyyyyyy hate exercise.  I swear to you, I’m allergic.  I despise it. I dread it.  I don’t enjoy any minute of it.  I think all the people that jog for fun and go to the gym religiously are actually masochists in disguise.  But, I also know that the weight isn’t going to melt off of me in a sauna, so I’ve got to get my fat ass moving. 

And eating better.  So far, I’m sort-of enjoying the diet.  It’s not too bad of food, and I’m trying some new things (tuna burgers! Hummus!) that I never thought I would try, let alone like.  I’m eating when I’m not hungry to keep the metabolism from snoring.  I’m eating 6 small meals a day, and I’m not hungry.  I’m spending TONS of money on food, but at least it’s healthy food.  I’m cooking more in one day than I used to in a week. I’m doing so many dishes my hands are dry.  But, Keith and I are enjoying cooking together. We’re enjoying our evening walks, and so are the dogs. We’re enjoying motivating each other.

There is a Biggest Loser contest at my office that starts tomorrow.  It’s a $20 buy-in and the winner gets 50%.  I think there are about 25 people joining.  I was already being cocky, saying I was going to win.  But then I saw the rules and the dates.  It ends on my birthday.  So, now I’m destined to win!! 

So I started my diet and exercise kick last week 1/10/11.  So far, I’ve lost 4 pounds. 

Adoption

Last night, Keith & I attended an adoption seminar at a local, private adoption agency here in Boise. The seminar started at 6:30, and we got there at 6:32.  The only reason for being late was because their website listed the number and the street, but not the direction of the street (West vs. East), so we were about 1 mile too far west at first. 

The 2 minutes we missed were the entire introduction about the actual agency (go figure), so we only picked up bits & pieces.  What we could collect from paperwork & further discussion is that “ANB” is a not-for-profit, private adoption agency.  They are licensed in Idaho, Oregon & Utah.  They also do home studies and evaluations for “waiting children” adoptions and international adoptions.  

“Waiting Children” is their name for adoptions done through the foster care system, of children who are in the system & parental rights have been terminated.  Prospective adoptive parents would still have to go through the Foster Care licensing and be approved by Health & Welfare for the adoption.  ANB only does the home study and assists with placement, thus collecting a nice fee. As they were telling us about this program, Keith and I tried (and failed) to reign in our snickering, especially when they continually talked about how wonderful it is to work with Health & Welfare and how easy it is to adopt a child through the foster care program.  Scratch that one off the list.

International adoptions are just that.  ANB does the home study & certification for those as well, then refers you to an international adoption agency to do the rest.  They did tell us that their fee for the international program is $1500. However, most international adoptions cost between $18,000 and $32,000 and take anywhere from 6 months to 2 years.  The cost does not include your travel to the country, which is required at least once, and sometimes up to 3 times.  We had already ruled international adoption out, as we knew that the travel would kill us, not to mention the outrageous cost.  No wonder the celebrities all do it. They have the money and time to blow.

The rest of the seminar was just about local, private adoption.  They network to all 50 states, but most babies come through the three states I mentioned above. 

First, you have to fill out an application, pay an application fee and start the training process.  $300.

Next, you put your name on one or two lists.  If you want a Caucasian baby, you go on a Pre-List.  The Caucasian waiting list is actually full – they do 25 people at most – so you are on a waiting list to go on the waiting list.  When somebody adopts on the list, they open the one spot and you move from the pre-list to the list-list.  No surprise, but Caucasian babies are the most high in demand, and also the hardest to actually find, especially since Caucasian is the most prevalent race in the North West.

They also have the Trans-Racial adoption, which is a baby any other race than your own.  This list is much shorter.  Anyhow, you go on one or both lists.  Once you pass the application and training phase, you move into the home study phase.  They do 3 separate home visits, 3-5 interviews of you, your spouse & both together.  They help you write up a profile, which will be viewed by birth moms.  This is how the birth mom picks the couple to adopt her baby. You have to read a book & write a ‘report’ on it.  They were very specific that you are not writing a book report saying what the book was about (they already know what it is about), but you have to write what you got out of it.  Semantics.  The home study & program is $900 and $750 respectively.  The process takes anywhere from 2-4 months.  

Then, you just wait.  The wait is from 2 months (after you complete the home study & training) to 3 years. 

The placement fee is $10,000, plus a $2,500 medical deposit for a local (3 states) placement.  That does not count the travel expense that we pay if we have to leave Idaho to pick up the baby.   If a baby is available outside of those three states, the placement fee is determined by the out-of-state agency, and can run from $16,000 to $35,000.  If the mom doesn’t have Medicaid or other insurance, we pay the medical costs, as well. 

The only other big surprise was their “Infant Outreach Program”, which is where they teach you how to basically market yourself to prospective birth moms (see: Juno).  They teach you what you can legally say, do, write, etc.  You can set up a web site, an 800-number, and/or business cards to get the word out across the nation that you are looking to adopt.  Birth moms can find you on the internet and not necessarily just through ANB.  If ANB helps you through this kind of adoption, the placement fee drops to $8,500, but you also pay $150 a month for a program fee for them to be there “in-case” you have any legal or counseling questions.  I think they also put you on a waiting list, but this is apparently a quicker way to get a baby. 

There are some stipulations for each type of adoption regarding our ages, number of children in the home, etc.  For the local adoptions, each applicant must be between the ages of 25 and 45, and can have no more than one child. 

We haven’t been completely on the adoption bandwagon yet.  We’ve never been told that we cannot conceive children of our own.  We still have 2 frozen cycles we can do when we can come up with the money. 

While we haven’t ruled out adoption completely, it’s on a back table in a back room in the basement, behind boxes.  We decided after the seminar last night, if we were to spend that kind of money for a baby, we might as well do one or two more IVF cycles and have our own biological child.  Again, it’s not like we have money to do that either…but if we’re spending the money, we’d rather do IVF again. 

So, next time someone asks, we can say “Yes!  We have looked into adoption, and it isn’t for us, at least not at this time.” 

It still simply amazes me that you must have an incredibly disposable income to overcome infertility. 

My Do's & Don'ts

Recently an online friend of mine did a write-up on her blog about unpopular decisions.  It got me thinking about mine.  So, here goes.  I hope to clue people into a bit of my warped mind.  I hope NOT to offend anyone.  I hope we’re all mature enough to accept other people’s opinions as simply that: opinions. 

I’ll start with my DO list.  I DO:

~Vote Republican 99% of the time.  I believe in less government.  As a government employee, I’m not supposed to have a political opinion, so don’t tell anyone.  (by the by, if you are like me in your political view, this site is one of the best reads you'll ever have: http://chicksontheright.com/)

~Try and be the most open-minded person I can be.  I would love to have a civil political or religious conversation with anyone.  I am constantly amazed by how much I can learn about something or someone by just listening to their opinion and point of view.  To each their own.  I hope that the same respect would be afforded to me. 

~Support stem-cell research.  It is NOT aborted fetuses like so many people want to believe.  Stem-cell therapy has infinite possibilities, it is despicable that funding is not funneled into it at every possible moment.  If Stem-Cell research could have given me more time with my Nonni, or given us a baby 3 years ago, who am I to ever go against that?  As Peter Griffin said in a great episode of Family Guy, “Why are we not funding this??”

~Believe in the woman’s right to choose.  I just hope she chooses wisely, and only uses abortion as a medical necessity or for severe psychological reasons.  I also hope that she knows there are tens of thousands of people out there that would more than willingly love her baby if she can’t or won’t.

~Exercise my right to bear arms.  In fact, I bare numerous arms.  And I know how to use them.  It is my house, my animals, my husband, my car, my friends, my family and damned if I’m not going to protect them in any way possible.  I’d much rather meet a gun-toting criminal with a gun of my own, and not a steak knife and 911 on speed dial. 

~Think capital punishment is an excellent idea.  I think the death penalty should be used more frequently for violent crimes and repeat offenders of said crimes.  I think you should get one appeal, and if you lose, you’re next in line.  I also think all the tools that picket the executions should have the option to shut up, or take the prisoner into their home for a couple of years and see how they feel about the execution at that time.  But, I’m an eye-for-an-eye kind of person. 

~Have a hard time being against pot.  I mean, seriously, it’s not as bad as alcohol and yet it’s illegal.  If it was legalized and taxed, imagine the revenue the country would make!!  And I know a lot of people that would be a lot mellower!

~Believe in God with all my heart.  However, if you don’t, I’m not going to try and convert you or change your mind.  I’ll still love you just the same.

I DON’T:

~Believe in global warming.  There is more scientific proof against it than there is for it.  Plus, most of the so-called experts in this ‘field’ have been shown to either be making most of their “evidence” up, or are people like Al Gore, who believes so strongly that global warming is ruining our earth that he travels in private, jumbo jets and SUV’s to spread the word.  Oh, and lives in his 6000 sq ft mansion.  But, please, continue to throw money into the snow.

~Support abortion as a method of birth control.  Use the pill, an IUD, a condom or abstinence.  If you use abortion as a method of birth control, well, I think something bad should happen to you.  Just sayin’.

~Think affirmative action is a good idea.  I think it leads to people using their race/gender/religion/hair color as a crutch instead of part of who they are.  I also think it leads to more discrimination than it fixes.  Instead of looking at people as smart employees who would be an asset, you are seen as a skin color.  I also think that the scholarships strictly for being Hispanic, black, Jewish, under 5’2” or cross-eyed are total and complete BS.  Where was the poor-white-girl college fund?  If I opened a “white, privileged kids only” school, the rotation of the world would come to a crashing halt.  Get a scholarship because you are smart and work hard.  Plain and simple.

~Like Obama.  I think he has done irreparable harm to our country that my grandchildren will have to dig out of.  He spends more time trying to be a celebrity and going on vacations than he does creating jobs, balancing the budget or making laws that actually help people. 

~Like Sarah Palin for a political choice much, either.  I like her opinions.  I like her political stance.  I’d love to hang out with her for a day, fishing or something.  But as a president/vice president/Secretary of State?  No way.  Unfortunately, I think her publicity has done too much harm to her reputation that she can no longer demand or expect respect. 

~Support illegal immigration.  Come here legally. Learn the language. Take the tests. Wait your turn, get your residency, and live in peace.  If you and your family members must sneak over here like criminals, refuse to learn the language of the country, demand that your traditions and customs take precedent over ours, you deserve every bit of discrimination you get.  Get the hell out of our country and do it right!!  The immigrants that did it the right way have my respect more than most natural-born citizens. 

More randomness:
I think I'm physically or mentally incapable of saying "Merry Christmas" back to someone when they say it to me.  You know, some chirps a happy "Merry Christmas!!!" to you, you're supposed to immediately say it right back.  I don't.  I say "Thanks!" or "You too!".  For some reason, I've always felt almost fake if I say it back.  Weird, I know.

I've never learned how to french braid, and I've always wanted to. I've even looked online and watched videos, but it doesn't help. I end up with a huge knot of hair and a possible half-braid in there somewhere.

I despise the movie Wizard of Oz.  Always have.  It basically comes down to me blaming that movie for my parent's divorce.  Now, as an adult, with an amazing set of step-families, I know the divorce was the best thing for everyone.  However, the first time I remember watching that movie, it was at my (soon-to-be) step-mom's house. It was the first time I remember meeting her kids, too. We went over there with my mom, as a family, to meet her whole family, including her husband. While both families were still intact, married to each other...if that makes any sense.  Anyhow, that movie is forever linked in my subconscious with the divorce. 
That being said, I can't WAIT to watch Wicked!

I am terrified of bugs, to the point of being irrational. Rollie Pollie bugs don't bother me though. My mom says I used to catch them and put them in her jewelry box.  I guess they're also known as pill bugs.  Here is what I am talking about. 

I'm a Fanilow.  Yes, you read that correctly, I love Barry Manilow.  I guess it comes from growing up listening to him, as my mom used to actually sing back up for him.  I've been to quite a few concerts, and his was hands-down the best one I've ever seen.  And it was only 6 years ago, so he was old then, too.

I'll leave you with that as your final thought of me for the day.

Changing of the Name...

You may have noticed, I changed the name of this Blog.  Let me start by saying I had to look up how the heck to do that and it still took me about 10 minutes.  I'm not wonderful at this blogging stuff, and I don't understand about 80% of the Internet-blot-HTML-lingo that goes along with it. So, if this isn't as neat or pretty or fun or interactive as other blogs, I apologize for the boredom.  This is probably the best you're gonna get from me! 

When I started the blog, it was about Keith & I jumping into IVF.  All of our family and a lot of our friends are back in Nevada, so this was a way for them to monitor what was going on.  Now that IVF failed, I find this a nice little outlet to rant, rave or just chatter about nothing.  So, I decided that "Fertility Journey" wasn't an appropriate name for this any more.  While we are still on the journey, it is slow and - most the time - uneventful.  It takes a shitload of money to fight infertility. And we're just about tapped out for the time being. 

As I write this, I have a whopping SIX followers.  That's six random people, half that I've never met, that are interested enough in our lives that they casually pay attention when I write something...anything.  To you faithful six:  Thanks!!  :)  I promise to try and offer only entertaining or insightful posts.  I also promise to break that promise many times over, as I'm sure we all have very different opinions on the definition of entertaining and insightful. 

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On a different note, today is the 5 year anniversary of the first time Keith & I were introduced.  Such random things to remember.  My friend Amber was having a poker party.  I was recently single & ready to finally have some fun after 10 long years of ...not fun.  I still remember borrowing a pink Packers hat from a co-worker.  You have to wear a hat when playing poker, so your opponents don't see your eyes and junk like that.  I went to Amber's house early to help her set up.  The first to arrive was a long-time friend of mine, and of Amber's boyfriend, Trinity (Triny).  With Triny, is Keith.  Triny being how he is, gives me a big hug, then elbows Keith and says "This is the big-titted chick I said I'd hook you up with".  Yep, that's how we met.  We didn't talk much that night because the tables were separated Men & Women.  We occasionally talked when my BFF Monica and I went outside, and Keith followed, for...a sub sandwich (shout-out to How I Met Your Mother).  He went home later, sufficiently drunk, and nobody knew it until the girl that gave him a ride came back to greet her boyfriend. 

The next morning, I was hung over and watching movies with Monica.  I decided to call Keith.  I first had to call Triny to get Keith's number.  Then, he didn't answer, so I left him a message.  He called me back about 2 hours later (he was watching the Brown's play when I called, and you don't interrupt a Browns game), came over to Monica's to watch a movie, then drove me home to watch another movie.  I'll never watch Charlie & The Chocolate Factory (of Johnny Depp fame) or EuroTrip again without smiling fondly.  That night, he kissed me at my doorstep when he left and asked to take me to breakfast the next morning.  He arrived promptly (!!) at 9:00, took me to Mom & Pop's for breakfast and the rest is history. 

I'm a sucker for anniversaries of all kind, so tonight we're doing Crab Legs & T-Bones at home.  I may be a sucker, but I'm also a home-body. 

Don't walk on Eggshells

I've been quiet lately, I know.  I originally started this blog as a way to keep our family & friends updated on the IVF process.  I was so confident in it working, I never imagined what I would have to do if it failed, especially in terms of this little blog.  I was ready to post weekly or monthly stats & updates on how the pregnancy was progressing.  Now, I find myself with nothing much to say, but at the same time, wanting to say so much. 

That being said, please don't walk on eggshells around me or Keith. 
I was talking to a dear friend of mine, J, when we went back to Nevada.  She is about 3 months along now with her 4th little one.  I've known her since her daughter was a toddler (she's now 11).  J let me know that she felt guilty about being pregnant, especially since they were trying to NOT be pregnant.  But, she's always been a don't-sneeze-on-me-or-I'll-be-pregnant kind of person.  And she makes gorgeous kids!  So, she's telling me this, and I noticed that she initially wouldn't use the word "pregnant" and then hesitated before using it later on.  I started thinking about this after we talked and I wondered if it was intentional?  She's a very sensitive person who would take my feelings into her heart, and she's the kind of person that would avoid using the word so it didn't break me apart.  I don't know if it was intentional, or if she was having pregnancy brain, but it started me musing about others as well. 

Some people won't ask us if the IVF worked.  They hint around about it, dance circles around the subject, but don't specifically ask.  Some ask, but then obviously don't want to discuss the answer once they hear "no".  They immediately change the subject.  The majority of people simply avoid the subject.  If it is brought up, they are obviously uncomfortable discussing it. 

I'll clue you in on our feelings:
We're devastated.
It sucks.  Royally.  We spent many days & night crying about it.  I still get very emotional, especially when I see pregnant people.  That's my Kryptonite.  I can handle seeing babies, it's the pregnancies that get me.  But, I don't want people to avoid the subject.  I've come to grips with it and I won't break by discussing it.  I'm still of the mindset that education is everything, so if I can open one more person's eyes to the reality of infertility, I'm all for it.  I may get emotional, but I will be hurt if you avoid me because of it. 

We're pissed. 
We put every spare penny we had into this and we feel like we have nothing to show for it.  In reality, we know that isn't true.  We're in the lucky 30% that had embryos to freeze.  We don't have to start from scratch to try again.  We only have to come up with about 1/3 of the money to do a frozen cycle.  But that seems like an unobtainable goal right now. We don't know when we'll have that kind of money available again, since we're now paying on the loan we took out to get there in the first place.  So, yes, we may be angry, sometimes even bitter, at the situation as a whole. 

We're strong.
We're getting used to the fact that we end up consoling others.  You all have been with us every step of the way, and we know that you put your prayers and thoughts and 'sticky dust' behind our success 100%.  Knowing this, we also know that your hearts broke a bit, too.  So, we will readily accept your hugs just as we willingly give our own.

We're in love.
And that's all that truly matters.  We are nowhere close to being ready to give up on our dream of a baby.  But until we have that baby, we have each other.  We are content in each other's company.  We still entertain ourselves and relish our time together, without a crying baby or demanding toddler.  We're trying to squeeze in every moment of "adult time" while we can, so we can wholly be there for our future children, without regrets of what we may be missing. 

So, this coming weekend, we're doing dinner & date night, to celebrate the 5 year anniversary of our first date.  In 3 weeks, weather permitting, we're heading to Elko to lavish our nephews & niece with love & attention & goodies.  And until we have a baby to join us, we're making the best out of the families we already have.  Our fur-babies, Sophie, Oz, Cassi & Cleo included.