Getting My Crap Together

Or not. 

I really hate to admit this, but I drastically underestimated the weight of the transition of becoming a SAHM. Emotionally and dynamically with me and my marriage. It's been really hard. And I did not see that coming. 

Apparently have you to be, like, tremendously self motivated and stuff. There is most certainly a Busy Bee side to me, but being busy and organized should really go hand in hand. And well organized, I am not. Which has become disturbingly clear since taking on this new role. I am currently looking into a program called Motivated Mom's which helps you keep on task and make sure you get all your goals accomplished each day. And by "looking into" I mean, I've had a tab open on the same browser window of the web page for like two weeks. But haven't really gotten around to doing anything with it...

I can stay busy, but getting all of my goals accomplished each day rarely seems to happen. Example: I will start cooking Leah's food for the next few days while she is down for a nap. In the middle of it, I'll notice the spice cabinet is a little messy. So I start cleaning and purging (please, at least one person out there say you know where I'm going with this) then all of a sudden I hear Leah chattering, it's three hours later, the house is a wreck and I have nothing for Brian and I for dinner. BUT the spice cabinet is clean! So suck on that!

Also it's just been a strange transition for Brian and I. I have been working since I was 15. So I've technically had a job longer than I haven't.  (been working for almost 19 years - I'm almost 34 - get it?)  So it's weird not to be earning anything, or not to be productive in a traditional sense - meaning the definition of being 'productive' has drastically changed and I don't know how to handle it. I think I also worry too much about what other people think about this role. Not just mine, but the SAHM label in general. Let me clarify a few things; I'm not hung up on the money part. Brian and I have had a joint account since day one. And there was a long period of time where I made more, and supported the household while Brian was in the transition of leaving his job and building his business. But I never thought of it as being the sole earner then. I would deposit my paycheck and it was like: here is this money for us. Yada Yada. And while raising a child and staying at home with them, has always been a dream and a goal for both of us. It's just a really big change and I'm still not even sure I can put my finger on what the big problem is exactly. 

I think in someways, Brian is struggling with the weight of being a sole provider on an unsteady income. He makes basically the same every month, but it is completely dependent upon his ability to keep the clients coming in. Anyone can see that is an assload of pressure. And so it seems that he technically works hard than me. Not to say that I don't work hard, or that I don't have tough days, but they are different. I have a lot more freedom, but I technically never get time off. I have not and will not ever speak for Brian, but my thoughts are that he struggling with the pressure and is a wee bit envious of my free time. Meanwhile I don't want the so called freedom to underrate what it is I do, just because there isn't a check for me to show that proves my worth. Did I tell you about the spice cabinet? Is anybody listening? Am I making a lick of sense? 
I have no idea...

Anyway, sorry for having been MIA. I have a lot of posts to finish and publish. I just need to sit down and get them done. Right after I figure out how to get all my other shit done.... Le Sigh. 

Lie To Me

At what point does leaving the house become NOT such a monumental undertaking? So far, I've only gotten grocery shopping down...And even that requires mental preparation. 

So I'm either over thinking it, completely incompetent (entirely possible) or it is actually really fucking hard when kids are this age. 

It seems like I end up exhausted or regretful with just about everything else I attempt. Please tell me I'm not alone and how soon it will get easier. 

If you don't have good news - just lie to me. 

Happy Holidays! No One Cares What You Think.

TIffany-Amber Thiessen(!) I've been meaning to post something here! But I have been all sorts of busy being an asshole, and ruining peoples lives. Evidently. And also drafting brilliant posts in my head, but never quite making it to my laptop. 

So the asshole thing, let me elaborate...

I have a secret talent.  Well maybe it's only a secret if you've never actually met me. Which is most of you.  So here it is; I have the ability to make my good intentions make me look like an asshole. 

I'm not even really sure where to start with this, but I'll bet you guessed it probably has something to do with my inlaws. And you'd be right!

I basically asked her and the family to only buy one gift for Leah's Birthday and Christmas combined. (Her birthday is three days before Christmas) Because she is tiny and doesn't need much, and we don't have a big house to store tons of crap and I didn't want people going bananas. Oh, and also there are at least thirteen, 13 I SAY, immediate family members buying for her this year. Not including Brian and I.

But apparently that makes me a controlling asshole.

Because of the push-back I got, I ended up consulting a few veteran Mommy friends. They both completely understood my position, had attempted to set similar ground rules themselves at some point, but ultimately realized it wasn't worth the headache of trying to manage other peoples gift giving. 

As one of them put it: "Smile and nod, then Return, Re-gift, or Donate."

So I conceded. Reluctantly.

But you can fully expect an 'I Told You So' Post on December 26th, by the way. Complete with photographic evidence. 

My final thought is this: I can completely understand the excitement from family wanting to buy gifts for the new baby. But was I wrong to presume a little more respect for my request as her parent? I didn't tell anyone what to buy, just requested that it only be one item... 

Look Away, I'm Hideous

I know my last post on the status of my feelings about my MIL was all jokey, jokey (hence the title, which by the way was directed at Leah. Like marking my territory), but I have really been struggling with my feelings. There is very little I would compare to the tragedy and heartache of infertility, but I see a likeness in my emotions in this particular situation. Resentment. I think I’m a little bitter about the time that I am away from Leah (which I know is miniscule compared to others).  Feeling bad about feeling bad. Frustration that even though I know my feelings are not fair per se, I can’t seem to help myself. The other part is feeling over protective, and helpless when Leah is not in my presence.  I wanted to say when Leah is not under my control, but it sounded a little too Mommy Dearest, and I am quite certain that she already has enough ammo to use this blog against me.

I pay very close attention to my unreasonableness in regards to my MIL. It weighs on me heavily. It makes me feel like a bad person. Especially because I know how much joy she gets from the time she is with Leah. And I love that. I want her to love the time she spends with her; I wouldn’t have it any other way. But when she says things like “ I know this time is special because you are a new mom, but it’s nothing compared to being a grandmother.” Sounds relatively harmless I'm sure, but try taking it from the perspective of a new mom who struggled for years to become one, and whom is currently waging an internal battle of the ‘does not play well with others’ variety. And by “others”, I only mean my MIL. Keep in mind, after years of trying not to fall apart in public during many a pregnancy announcement; I’ve evolved into a pretty decent actress. So I’m sure my MIL has no idea about the way I’m feeling. And I don’t feel like telling her would help. I did at one point try. I explained that even though it was exciting for her, it was really, REALLY hard for me to be away from Leah. But I think her eyes had already glazed over with Grandma time.

So I’m going to continue to try to sort things out here. I’ll finish this post by illegitimately bitching about the fact that my MIL has had some sort of errand to run every single day since she got the carseat base. I viewed it more as an  "in case" basis. And I know it shouldn’t be a big deal that she is proudly and happily bouncing around town with Leah in the back of her Durango. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I know. I KNOW. But all I can think is how I would never forgive her if something (God forbid) happened. And also, she is MINE. Two more examples of why I’m an asshole. Good times. 

Maybe I Should Just Pee On Her And Get It Over With...

If you have been reading this blog for any concentrated amount of time, you will know that I am terrible about following up with "catastrophe's" that I post about. So here I am to relieve you from your debilitating state of suspense or otherwise baited breath.

My Mama-Bear issues are still omnipresent. (Unbelievable! Said No One.) I did however, go see my therapist about it. The good news? All of my feelings are "Completely Normal!". She praised me for being able to acknowledge the fact that my feelings, though reasonable, "were not exactly rational or fair". But I FEEL as though the blister on my left nipple would know the difference. Still we talked a lot about what my goals are for achieving harmony, and the fact that my feelings probably won't be going anywhere fast. This is not something that can necessarily be solved, but more like feelings that will fade when I'm dead in time. What's important is taking time to think about how I will approach her regarding any given matter and keeping in mind my mama bear mentality before I react.  Like when she asked me for the extra base for the carseat so she could "Go show her friends". Fortunately this conversation took place over the phone so she could not see the raging hellfire blazing from my corneas. I realize it's not as though she asked to take Leah away for the weekend to go to Disneyland for the first time, and I cordially obliged after privately fuming about it. But I will admit I was a little edgy all day just thinking about it. And last week when my neighbor told me the entire block can hear Leah screaming on the days I am at work, I did not immediately tender my resignation or change our locks. Mostly because I was pretty much already aware that this was happening because my normally very chatty MIL is always sitting on the front porch with a red eyed, pink cheeked from wailing, but ultimately exasperated and just sniffling Leah, ready to hand her over and get the hell out of there the moment my car pulls in the driveway... I know there is absolutely nothing malicious or unsafe going on, I just think my MIL is not great about identifying sleep signals and then Leah gets over tired and turns into a raving lunatic. Understandably so.

I'm also pretty darn proud of myself for keeping my cool when my MIL asked if they could get Leah's first Halloween Costume. Supposedly my FIL's idea. P'sha Right. I calmly smiled and said "I'm sorry, no. That's really sweet, and I think it's adorable that "he's" so excited, but the first Halloween Costume is a biggie". And then I refrained from explaining that she should pretty much forget about asking for any "firsts". Not in a Mamabear way - but in a "that's our long awaited not to mention FIRST and possibly only child, and that pretty much guarantees us any and every firsts. Foreverandeveramen."

Which prompts me to think about the holidays. You may remember my rant about my MIL giving Leah her first Easter Basket. Well, my main concern now is the Christmas stocking my MIL has already made for her. (Another first that she unintentionally hijacked.) Brian and I are on the same page as far as Leah not getting two Stockings. The first reason being BECAUSE SHE IS OUR DAUGHTER. WE are Santa, not grammie and poppop. Number two, and what I'm going to tell people is the first reason most importantly, we don't want Leah to have a lot of stuff. I kept wondering how we could possibly bring that up without making it sound like we were inferring that she would only buy crap. Fortunately she kind of beat me to the punch and inadvertently gave me a great reason. She mentioned something along the lines of wanting to give Leah a gift towards her college fund. BINGO. Another completely valid reason is that they really can't afford it. Well, they shouldn't afford it. Leah will be well taken care of in the present department. Being that she is the only grandchild, niece and baby period on both sides of the family. (We're the oldest.)

So there you have it. While I lack the ability to be a fundamentally good person, I at least have the knowledge and good sense to keep my mouth shut about it to the people it effects. And only over-share my feelings with complete strangers. You're welcome!

Hang On A Sec

I feel the need to clarify my intentions and a few things about my last post. 

Apparently I came off like a controlling ogre who doesn't wanna share. 

I have an amazing relationship with my grandparents, and fantastic memories of holidays with them. And I want more than anything for Leah to have that. Particularly with Brian's parents because I doubt she'll be getting it from my side.

This isn't about cutting Brian's parents out of Leah's life. This is about reigning in a Mother-in-law who clearly sees raising her two sons as the best time of her life, and is ready for round three. And probably day dreams regularly about taking full custody of Leah. (I'm only half kidding)
But it's all out of love and I know that.

My in-laws live three blocks away. They are and will continue to be a HUGE part of ours and Leah's life. And not just because of proximity and the fact that they are my husbands parents, but because I love them and genuinely care for them and want them in my life. But I feel the need to set some boundaries so that my Mother-in-law understands this is her time to OBSERVE and NOT DO. She gets to be a part of and witness this beautiful little girl growing up, this isn't a do-over for her. Grandparents - not Parents

I hope that make sense. 

And if it doesn't, this is my blog and you can suck it. :D

(And one more thing to help make my point of view clear. If you have ever watched Bethanny Ever After, and seen the dynamics between her and Jason's family, you'd understand more of where I am coming from. Brian had the nuclear family and I had, well, kind of a mess...)

Hey Progesterone: You Suck.

Sorry for the delay, yesterday was super chaotic at work and by the time I got home I just didn’t have it in me to post. My morning began with another peculiar dream. Dr.3 was running late, so a nurse came in to instruct me on how to complete my own u/s. I checked my lining, it looked like… my uterus, I guess so that was good. But before I could move on to check for my whore-bag of a constant companion I was interrupted by another nurse who wanted to administer a rather unorthodox remedy for my situation. This part however, is truly too humiliating to describe. Even to you. But while I lay there on the table waiting for their remedy to cure my cyst, I noticed that Dr.3 was in the room working with another patient. This is where it got weirder. He was hunched over talking to the patient and his scrubs were just low enough on his backside that I could see he was wearing… a thong. The nurse cackled loudly while bringing it to his attention and they both ended up having a good chuckle about it. But I was, and am profoundly mortified by it even as we speak.. I was seriously still so disturbed by the image, that I could barely look him in the eye at my appointment. Oh, but there were no picture windows this time. Bonus.

In reality Dr. 3 was right on time and started the u/s without me having to lift a finger. But not before he complimented my polka-dot socks. Which he’s done more than once and I have to say I’m a little weirded out by it. Not because his mentioning my socks is in anyway inappropriate. I actually think it’s his way of breaking the ice – by being nice and offering a compliment. But I only recently started keeping my socks on during my stints in the stirrups, so I’m a little self-conscience about it. Honestly, up until last month I always removed my socks before an exam but one day before one of my other monitoring appointments while waiting for Dr. 3 to show, I had in internal debate over whether or not to take them off. But before I could make up my mind, Dr. 3 came in and effectively made the decision for me. Do you leave ‘em on, or take ‘em off? I digress.   So. My lining.  Down to 4mm, from 5mm last week. A very good sign. Left ovary – still politely behaving as expected. Righty, whom I’ve named Satan’s whore, still showed a large cyst. But it’s smaller it’s at 27.5 x 27.5, from 25.5 x 35.5. This is when I made my move. But instead of spewing my infertile rage at him I sheepishly confessed that I was extraordinarily frustrated with the now six week delay, and was hoping he’d be open to taking a more aggressive approach.  He then of course made me sorry for the desperately written rant filled with misguided anger that I published yesterday. He told me he had been baffled by this delay and truly felt that the cyst should have resolved itself considering the amount of Lupron I was on. He said in any other situation a person on my dosage of Lupron would have seen menopausal E2 levels a few weeks ago…

He explained further: Because my E2 levels dropped so significantly at my last appointment and based on the fact that my cyst measured smaller today, he had a feeling that my levels would show another substantial drop. The Estrogen was what was feeding the cyst – so that number going down would be a great indicator. He genuinely believes that my period will come in the next week. (I know, check’s in the mail, right?) But if it doesn’t he wants me to come back in so that he can aspirate it. He booked me for the appointment for next weekend to do so, still believing that AF will finally show before then.

Later in the afternoon the nurse called me with my E2 number. It’s 45. A very, very good thing- and exactly what Dr. 3 said would happen. However my Progesterone is at 1.7 (should be under 1.0), so at this point it’s the only thing that is holding up my period. The nurse explained that once my body realizes my Estrogen is so low, it will recognize get this: I’m not pregnant; my progesterone will drop and I’ll get my period… And at that point, I will be able to start stims right away. Or we aspirate the little fucker, my estrogen and progesterone drops – I get my period – then start stims.

None of those things are happening as quickly as I'd like but Dr. 3 prefers not to interfere if possible, and I was grateful for the time he spent with me yesterday to explain all that. A big thank you to all of you, who've been so supportive and put up with my schizo posting. You're thoughful comments have meant the world to me, I'm sorry I haven't been giving back as much as I'd like to in that department.

Because I Made My Own Bed

Previous to falling face first in to what is certainly the most challenging period of my life, I had imagined growing old with the small group of close friends we kept.

Old and gray, with grandkids in our laps.

But things change. I’ve changed. And as our years in the realm of infertility have gone on, I have slowly removed myself from the bulk of what once was a close group of friends. They have kids now. And seeing them makes my heart ache in the worst possible way.

Infertility has greatly impacted every single one of my friendships. And more often than not, I’m sorry to say, it has been negative.

I’ll fully admit that 95% of the friendships that have waned are a direct result of my actions. I have chosen self-preservation over sucking it up and throwing on a smile at yet another friends baby shower, or baby’s birthday. Hell, I can barely even manage to keep my shit together during a simple dinner when children are present.

So I suppose it’s only natural that at some point, after so many declined invitations, said friends would stop inviting us to parties and or casual gatherings. And while I'm sure that their decision was not easy one to make, I can’t help but grieve the place where we used to be. And I struggle with whether it was wrong that they didn’t even bother to invite us, or if they actually did us a favor by letting us off the hook? But basically my choices are feeling bad about not going or feeling bad about not being invited. Nobody wins.

I have made a lot of truly incredible friends within the ALI community. Seriously, some exceptionally amazing people. And I wouldn’t trade those friendships for the old ones I had. But I hope to hell that if I ever get out of here, I might someday get them back.

Checking Out

No Cell Phones.

No T.V.

No Heat.

What?! Okay there will be heat, but it will be primitive.

Me bang rocks, make fire. Oh, who am I kidding - I ordered myself a 3,000 BTU Portable Propane heater fo' sho'.

We're heading up to God's Country this weekend. Big camping trip with my family. Sleeping in the woods should be great for my back. Okay maybe not, but at least no one will be able to hear me scream. Hooray for simplicity.

As if it were even necessary to mention, my posting and commenting will be even more non existent for a bit since we won't even have much FM radio reception.

And btw, the tab that gives me the options for font is mysteriously no where to be found. Seems like the universe is helping me prepare to get by without all the fancy modern conveniences I've come to love.

Peace Out.

Project IF, My Part I

I promise I'm hard at work on my Project IF post, but I've got a little more work to do. In the mean time I feel it's important that I mention the significance of this week - National Infertility Awareness Week. I've been looking forward to it in a way, because I feel like this is "our week" to be a little bit more significant and get some recognition. But I also feel like a total hypocrite because I'm not completely out of the IF closet.

No one at work (outside of my close friends) knows. I've never talked about it on facebook, or any other public forum. I've also only chosen a select few of my friends to tell- and only three of them know about and have access to this blog. And at this very moment I can't think of any other reason than my deep seeded fear of divulging any kind of insecurity - which suddenly seems incredibly lame... I guess I've always been someone that held their cards close, but it feels wrong in a way now because I feel so strongly about advocacy. Yet I can't even be open in real life. Which makes me wonder if I have other friends who might be dealing with this, and like me, have just never opened up about it. What IF they don't know about this incredible blogging community? What IF they are suffering in silence?

I've been thinking about this a lot and how much I wish I could come out to ALL my friends - but I'm just not ready. I want to so badly and the post by Keiko at Hannah Wept, Sarah Laughed has brought me very close to wanting to shout it from the roof tops. Please, please PLEASE go check out Keiko's post and video. Oh, and BRING TISSUES.

If you're not familiar with Project IF, please head over to Mel's to learn more and get involved. It's an incredibly significant project that I think we will all benefit from, even if only cathartically.

And just a disclaimer - I don't mean to sound disparaging to those of you who are in the closet as well. I totally understand and appreciate everyone's need for privacy. I just wish I was strong enough to come out and support those who are out as well.