Monday, November 30, 2009

"Releasing my Inner Nonsense"

I love this new take on a sun salutation so much, I need to link to it right here. No, no a bookmark isn't sufficient. I have a gajillion of those. So here. Here it is. Many thanks to Lucky Life (new blogger, holla!) for sharing. Now go get peaceful, ya'll. I am. As soon as I get back from happy hour tonight.

Just kidding.

I'll probably do it before.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Reunited and it feels so.....hmm...

Can I get back to you on that?

Yesterday was the day we met my bio dad, his mom, sister and her husband for the very first time. Like, ever.

This I know: I am in love with two feisty, loving, awesome, sassy, smart, funny Jersey ladies. I mean, in full-on love. These are my girls.

That guy that contributed to my birth. Hmm. I'm really gonna have to get back to you on that.

To say I'm still processing it all isn't really true. It's about as processed as its going to get. But perhaps my opinion will get a bit kinder if I sit on it for a while. Mull it over. Talk it through with some folks. A conversation we had with a friend this morning and what he had to say about our recounting of the day actually did give me more food for thought. Maybe I just need some more food for thought.

I could recount all of the things he did/said that made we wince/cringe/roll my eyes/run to the bathroom and text M. (who was there with me, BTW), but then I look like the dick. "Oh m," you might say, "that's not that bad," you could say. Perhaps not, but the culmination of constant foot-in-mouthness (seriously, your jaw would drop) added to the non-stop not pronouncing my name correctly after repeated corrections multiplied by the doing everything that annoys me (please stop repeating yourself and the same stories, please stop adding emphatic footnotes of familial ties anytime you mention someone's name - "oh and so and so, you know, your mother" - yeah. dude I get it and by the way, please STOP TOUCHING ME) contrasted with the absolute wonderfulness of the rest of the family, JFC, I just couldn't take it.

And sure, I bet he was nervous as HELL. And yes, I have been told I can be a little, um, intimidating. And perhaps I was already ready for a rumble based on some previous phone conversations. But dammit, if this is the day you've waiting for your whole life, could you put on a fucking clean t-shirt and pull the cigarette out of your mouth for a goddamn minute? First impressions? Hello? And oh, someone should probably have given you the memo: don't be needy. I fucking can't stand needy.

But let's get back to the bright side: I learned a lot. Namely, I am my mother's daughter, with perhaps a bit of the women from his family added in for spice and sassy. I learned my mother's name. Saw where she lived. Saw a photo. Which is now mine. Learned that not only do my bio dad and I have nothing physical in common, we are about as far apart cerebrally as two people could get. I am tempted once again to add specific examples here but I won't. There's no need.

I think you get the picture.

So, am I sorry we did this? Fuck. No. See my first paragraphs. I now have some amazing new people in my life. And time to figure out that other one. This was all a lot to take in. A lot. Maybe we just need a little more time.

And shit. Time is one thing I have.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

The Day After

I guess you can probably anticipate a bender if you see someone pulling estrogen patches off in the liquor store.

They seriously took me by surprise. Sorry little remnants of this routine we had been dutifully doing for the last two weeks. Same with the alarm on my cell phone that was still set to remind me to take my afternoon pills. What the f....oh, I know what that is. By the time M and I made it to the store, its like we had already erased the possibilities and hopes we had been harboring. Nurturing. Allowing to grow.

Feeling the patches on my belly felt like a slap.

So how do I respond to any perceived insult or injury? Aggressively, of course. Liquor store first. Happy Hour next. One of our BFFs of all time joined us and helped us down huge plates of irish nachos and onion rings (you can't drink on an empty stomach, right? That would be irresponsible!) After another stop or two, we ended the night at the pizza shop - the one that has seen us drunk and speaking spanish, has seen me pregnant, me not pregnant, me post pregnant, me thinking I was pregnant but really not. Honestly, this little hole in the wall has witnessed all phases of our lives. So its good that the pizza is probably the last thing M remembers.

Oh poor M.

He's working all day today. Working through his hangover and with a colleague he absolutely cannot stand. I'm picturing him in his cubicle, earphones on, daring anyone to come near. Working through it. That's all he can do.

Me, I'm trying to figure out how exactly I feel and the best I can come up with is nothing. I feel nothing.

M said something so profound on the way to the RE yesterday. He said the last two weeks have been wonderful. With their shots and inconveniences and various appointments, still wonderful. Like we both remembered what it was like to be happy. To let just a bit of hope into our lives again. That's something we can't forget. That hoping feels good. Even when its not enough to make something happen.

If I let it, the anger, the sorrow, the general pissed off at the world seeps in. But god, that just feels awful and unsustainable. And I know furrowed brows have increased my wrinkle count this year. Shit! I will not be ushered so easily into botox! Must. Not. Furrow!

So, I'm gonna go shower now. Maybe clean up the apartment. Because I can. Heavy lifting and all. And then perhaps, just maybe, I will go for a run. After the headache wears off, of course.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

More on Tyra

So funny her name was just mentioned. I just received an alert that someone left a new comment on this old post which kind of summarizes why the tall one had my dander up (pre-ANTM marathon).

Sorry. Someone needs to feel my wraith. Ms. Banks will have to do.

I So Wish

I had fabulous news to share with you today.

But I don't.


And I can't really think of anything else to say.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

And Another Thing (or Two)

Thoughts on season 10:
Anya is a dead ringer for M's little cousin.
Lauren reminds me completely of Montana from Real World Boston, but skinny.
What's the deal with the silver haired kid? Isn't he a Queer Eye cast off?
Or the sparkly eyebrow dude? Runway Trainer? Trainer? Really? Is this the new code for bitchy wanna be ms. thang? Unbelievable. People get paid for this.
And Paulina? Really? Weren't you in a Cars video? When I was 7? Isn't your advice a little, um, dated?
And back to the "plus sized" girl. Ok, in my heart I want to root for her, but girl, stop. Being a size ten is not a "daily struggle" nor is it a "burden." I want to cheer for her I really, really do, but when I squint she looks just like my best friend from 5th and 6th grade that stole all my "boyfriends" with her big boobs and knowing ways.
So, I can't.
The girl with the least camera time happens to be my favorite. Oh Kasia, why oh why can't anyone say your gorgeous name right?


And still I watch.

I'm Blaming the Drugs

Because there's no other rational explanation.

There seems to be an America's Top Model marathon on today. Hours of it.

And I seem to be watching the whole. damn. thing.

This happened to me once before - but it was the Real World. And I was in college.

Totally different.

I am a damn growned up woman. And this is ANTM (I only know that's an acceptable acronym because it keeps flashing across the screen). And dudes, I HATE Ty.ra. I mean, with a passion. As in, spent numerous blog posts taking her name in vain. I even had a sticker.

And yet here I am.


Two weeks is a long, maddening time.

And PS - exactly when did size 10 = "plus size"?


Sunday, November 15, 2009

Contemplating a Day of Contemplation

Reposting this from Jendeis over at Sell Crazy Someplace Else because I heart the ladies behind Pulling Down the Moon and this sounds very, very cool. Haven't committed to going yet, but curious to hear if anyone else is....

Join us for this day long retreat into the healing power of Yoga for Fertility...

Yoga for Fertility Retreat
Sunday, December 6th 8 AM-4 PM
Pulling Down the Moon -- Rockville, MD

Join Pulling Down the Moon Instructor Sara Shelley for a day long retreat exploring the healing power of yoga for fertility. At this unique event you will learn the program that literally thousands of women have used to help them get pregnant since 2002. At this retreat you will learn:

Asana - a specific yoga posture practice to increase blood flow, reduce tension and detoxify body tissues.

Pranayama - yoga breathing techniques to manage stress and improve the overall vitality of your body and mind.

Meditation - an in-depth exploration of the "yoga way" of coping with negative thoughts and emotions.

In addition, we will explore teachings from yoga philosophy that will help you frame the fertility journey in a manner that reveals your personal strengths, reinforces the joy of everyday life and empowers you to create the family you're meant to have. Through this experience you will also join the positive, healing community of Pulling Down the Moon and enjoy the community of the amazing women who use our programs.

PDtM Yoga for Fertility is appropriate for any level, any stage of the fertility journey, during medicated or natural cycles, and is unlike any other yoga experience. Register online or call 301-610-7755 for more information.

**Retreat Participants can take an advantage of a 20% discount for our services (yoga, massage, nutrition, acupuncture), when they schedule their appointment for December 5th or 6th.**

When: Sunday, December 6, 2009. 8 AM - 4 PM

Where: Pulling Down the Moon, 15001 Shady Grove Road, Suite 210, Rockville, MD 20850

Details: $150 covers the cost of the one-day workshop, a light lunch, and PDtM's DVD Yoga Practices for Fertility.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Waiting for the Two Week Wait

To Do pre-24 hour bedrest:
  1. Clean apartment
  2. Laundry
  3. water plants and all other household tasks that near that mystical "lift no more than 10 lbs." restriction
  4. clear out the fridge - some of those veggies are looking suspect - soup it is!
  5. Ensure that M's parents will come feed us tomorrow evening (thank you!)
  6. Ensure that M will be able to fend for himself with dinners for at least the first few days - soup it is!
  7. turn off any "I am online" notifications that connect to work
  8. sort out the new love of my life (for right now, anyways) so I can surf while on bedrest and not feel the wrath of hubby for having a large piece of electronics too near my loins (aka laptop)
  9. gather all New Yorkers and Economists together that I haven't read and pretend like I will actually read them (unlikely. See #6)
  10. gather piles of yarn and knitting books, set them by the bed and resurrect the idea that I will make fabulous Etsy-worthy handmade goodness for all my friends for the holidays this year.
  11. unwrap untouched embroidery thread - repeat #8
  12. make lists of all of the ambitious projects I will accomplish while the rest of my office is distracted with the conference
  13. think about what I want to pack for the amazing babyloss retreat in OCNJ (Ocean City, New Jersey) that I will be leaving for on Friday (less than a week!)
  14. Breathe.

Friday, November 13, 2009

and this is why we post

I've been having a pretty running dialog with my selves lately about the value and point of blogging. Why is it, exactly, that I continue to invite a large number of known and unknown individuals into my life, into my bedroom, good lord up into the stirrups with me? Does it make things better? Worse? Does it allow me to function better in real life, or does it cultivate a crutch that I can lean on when I don't want to deal with any of that? Why the need to divulge all that is often not even spoken in real life? Is a blog a manifestation of the ego? Id? Superego, even? Or is it just a place where I can tell Freud to blow me?

Yes, I'm sure Siggy would have something to say about my latter remark. Of course.

But all I know is this:

Posting in the a.m., stepping out for a bit to purchase a gorgeous moto.rola piece of an.droid phone magnificence and then returning to find a fistfull of comments from familiar voices and names is just about the greatest way to end a week. Is there anything better?

Thank you so much. Feeling your good vibes already. And really, that's what broke my silence (well, that and my utter lack of willpower). I think I was fooling myself thinking I'd want to go into this without my girls.

And doods, you need to go get this phone. I can't remember the last time a consumer good made my heart flutter. This has turned out to be a pretty great day after all.

Up and In

When she was younger, my mom had every intention of being a nun. Got herself to a nunnery, became a novitiate, has all kinds of stories about having to knit her own sweaters and rolling her own sanitary pads. And she was cool with all of it.

The joke in the family is that the vow of silence is what broke her. She just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

Well damn if I'm not my mother's child.

I wasn't planning to be near a computer today but now I am and it seems that there is nothing I can think about other than these things I'm not talking about so I might as well uncork the bottle, get it out and get on with my day.

We are in the midst of a fresh donor egg cycle.

And when I say "in the midst" I mean we are going for a 5-day single blast transfer on Sunday.

And when I say "fresh" I mean 16 fertilized. 8 tossed in the freezer right away. 8 still cleaving. One lucky one gets to try their luck up in my (still not great, but not terrible) ute come Sunday.

So, there. There you have it.

Lots of drama between then and now, including preparing for the biggest event my work puts on all year (and my absence from it), and a full-on 103+ temp., hallucination-inducing bout of the flu for M. that manifested itself the night before his, ahem, specimen retrieval.

Not that flu that dare not speak its name, but a good old-fashioned seasonal one that required some medical intervention nonetheless. His sweats and chills and feeble coughs brought about a sleepless night with terrible dreams of being turned away at the clinic door (get your virus-filled selves outta here!), watching our long awaited cycle disintegrate into ash along with his overheated swimmers. Google searches and reputable health sites reminded me yes there is a 72-day delay between the sperm made and sperm emerged. But still. This was one additional layer of panic we truly didn't need. Particularly since earlier stripe checks for me were showing not only the substandard level of my endometrium, but some mystery liquid up in there to boot.

Luckily, we had planned for some of this - my thin layers, not the liquid. And built in more time in this cycle for it to grow, keeping me on estrogen longer, starting our donor on her way later. The fluid (not atypical in IVF cycles) sorted itself out and reabsorbed. And the last we checked, my lining was up to 4.5 mm and counting, and attempting to get itself trilaminar (appearing on the screen as 3 distinct layers), usually a prerequisite for a successful cycle. This was about a week ago, so I am hoping everything continues to plump up. Dare I dream for 5 mm. before transfer?

Now I know, most clinics don't even think about a cycle with uteri thinner than 6 or 7. Some set the bar at 8 mm. Yes, yes, we know. That's my clinic'c preference as well. But you see, they know us and we know them on a first name basis these days. I've already earned enough frequent rider points to get two round trip tickets from my train excursions to the clinic. Some of the nurses and residents could probably pick pictures of my uterus out of a lineup. That's how often we've been hanging out there. We've already had a mock cycle earlier this year which showed that despite the thinness, everything else (luteal phases, progesterone absorption, all that) is lining up as it should.

So we are going for it.

On Sunday.

With one embryo.

Over and out. (or should I say, up and in)

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Lest You Get the Wrong Impression

I think my last post came out far more snarky than I meant it to. Sorry about that.

In fact, I think most everything that I've written lately has this underlying growl to it. Like you can almost see me, face scrunched up, shoulders hunched, arms crossed, harumphing at the world.

That visual makes me laugh. And it should. Because its funny. And silly. And downright ridiculous.

I honestly don't walk around all day every day face scrunched up, shoulders hunched, arms crossed, harumphing at the world. In fact, most days I even smile and laugh. I promise.

Lot on my mind these days. And I am so sorry that you are only catching a glimpse of the piece that has me looking like a troll. Why is that the one that finds itself to print the easiest? Back. Back you ugly thing!


Here's an update on the guests or no guests debate: wrote to band and said our home was their home. They wrote back and said, thanks so much but we think we're good - staying with a member of another band we're playing with, but still can't wait to see you.

So, good news all around. Glad we invited. Gladder they said no thanks. Happy there are options; happier there are no obligations.

Many, many thanks for your input. And many, many hugs and thoughts as so many of you approach your own days ahead. Would love to hear more about how you choose to spend them.

Is Nothing Sacred?

Days like today make me so, SO thankful I have kept this blog semi-confidential. Sure there's my twitter feed down there and of course most of you know me by my real name. But getting there from here is one thing. Landing here from there is another. And, to the best of my knowledge, there is no there to here. Not on F.B. Not on Twitter or any of the other social media outlets that I use daily

That my mom seems to be infiltrating.

Sure, I knew she had a FB account. I didn't know that someone would actually take an active interest in showing her how to use it.

Dear young cousin, payback is a bitch.

It's not a huge problem. I've already made my account fairly squeaky clean since I decided to use it for a professional networking tool as well. But still. I mean, shit. Got a message via FB this morning that said,

"m, please give me more information about the money you are raising for cancer. What is this about?"

"Mom, love that you're interested, but what the hell are you talking about???"

And then I realized I probably have a year-old "causes" application lingering someplace on my pages that she has found. Which means she's been routing through my pages.

Like I said, it's not a big deal. At this point, we have probably had all of the outbursts and confrontations possible and are actually pretty cool with our respective selves and each other. And the things I used to worry about her knowing really don't matter any more. And yes, as M pointed out, I am sure she is having a blast, surreptitiously IM'ing her new friends while my dad sulks in front of the TV, sharing pics and bad forwarded email jokes, (Hey wait, maybe this will shrink the bad forwarded email jokes from my inbox....)

But I'm still left feeling like someone wandered into the bathroom while I was in the middle of doing my business. I hate that.

Don't you hate that?