Where M Drops the F Bomb in Church

Well, it's International Babylost Mother's Day. How did you get to spend yours? Me, I got to sit through a Christening.

We got through it. Kind of. We're home now anyway - M's playing a mindless video game. Me, I'm staring at the screen trying to sort through what I'm feeling right now.

Mom was in town for the family event. Dad claimed he "wasn't feeling well" and didn't make the trip. Tomorrow starts cancer treatments for him. More on that in a minute. Maybe.

During the ceremony, where they also baptized seven other little ones (is this how they do it these days?), there was, of course, a set of twins.

"Oh look, does she have twins?!"

"I guess mom."

"Oh she DOES. She does have twins. Awwww....."

M's grip tightens on mine.

"Oh do you think they're twins or just siblings?"

M : "Who the F*CK cares. Would you STOP!"

Yes. Yes. You did just witness my husband dropping the F bomb. On my mom. In Church. And she deserved it. Thankfully, no clap of thunder. No lightning-singed spouse. Phew.

"Well, I just thought they were cute that's all."

"STOPPPPPPPP!" (This time it's me. And I think I added a JFC in there too)

And soon its over and we are reminded yet again that my parents speak without thinking. Think without thinking of anyone else, least of whom our daughters. I can't take it personally. Dad is too obsessed with how many sodas he can drink now that "my sugar's the least of my worries. I gots The Cancer..." and mom is far too busy making those martyr eyes and funny faces that show the world oh how much she suffers with this husband of hers. Poor her. Poor poor her.

So, there's all of that. I'm mad at dad at how he's behaving. I'm mad at mom at how she's behaving. None of this is new. Its just got some extra juicy cancer-flavor to it these days. You feel bad for one of them until you yourself are forced to sit with them and you think, "Oh god, no wonder the other one can't stand you." And then you sit with the other one and have the exact same thought. They are not nice people. They are not nice to each other. Being around it is exhausting.

But that's where we spent my birthday.

No, no, don't worry. No need to wince. This post actually has a somewhat happy ending. We decided to make the drive last Friday evening when we got word that dad's cancer has spread. It is not stage 1 as expected; its actually progressed to his brain. Not sure of the prognosis, but they are moving forward with treatments as planned, adding radiation to the brain and anticipating a need for chemo after that. That's the news we got Friday right around dinner time.

Don't worry about dad. He now feels he gets a free pass to tell everyone how he really feels about them, to eat and drink everything he wants, and has a built in excuse to avoid any and all family events and obligations that would displace him from the couch. I think I should note that this is how he has been living for some time now. But now, NOW, he feels like he has a real good reason. Sigh.It's hard for me to be sad when dad acts like this is a dream come true. If someone feels like they have no reason to live, they usually find a way not to.

But still, I'm sad. What should we do? M asks? What can we do? I ask? What would you like to do? He counters. Well, I guess I would like to spend as much time with him as I can while I still can. That makes sense, M says. We'll leave in the a.m.

So we did. And somewhere between state borders, the sun started to shine on the weekend that was predicted to be yet another monsoon. Hey now, we joked. We are being rewarded for our altruism! And we were. The sun shone freely all weekend. We had ample time at the beach and D*gfish Head Brewery - two of our happy places -which is where we escaped whenever the house got too claustrophobic. The weather was honestly so gorgeous, not even my dad refusing to sit on the porch with us (what?!? it's too hot!!), in fact, refusing to do anything with us unless it involved sitting with him watching a show he was watching on TV, or my mom coming home from the neighbor's house totally soused on Saturday night could dampen our spirits.

We had given ourselves a little pep talk on the car on the way down. That helped: We cannot change them. We will not change them. All you (notice how it shifts down to singular here. There is no love lost between M and my parents) can do is love them and be there for them and let them know you care.

So that's what I did. I tried to suspend judgment (but dammit. Dad downing 3 cans of soda one night made some of that seep out.) What??? Not like I'll live any longer if I don't drink it.

My dad is like Shit My Dad Says. But not funny.
My mom is like Raymond's mom from Everybody Loves Raymond. But not funny.

Most of the time we are around one or both of them, M and I usually end up staring at each other, mouthing "did he/she/they just say/do that?" gasping incredulously wondering at the insanity of it all.

And then we go to Dogfish where we can debrief and try to piece together different interpretations of all that we've seen and heard even though it always ends up at the same conclusion: "Your dad, he's senile and ungrateful and has no idea how good of a life he actually has....your mom, well she's crazy and she thinks she's performing on a L*fetime movie and will never not think that the world has shit on her." We shake our heads, and drink wonderful beers and eat cheap hummus and veggie burgers and try more beers and then walk to the beach where I read not only the Economist but also the New Yorker the same week they were issued (which I think has never happened before). And then fall asleep. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. This is our daily Delaware routine for 3 days.

I fall asleep on the beach for my birthday. Now, I tell you, a girl cannot ask for much more than that.

But I left last weekend with that gift that always sneaks into our pockets after a few hours with the crazies, I mean parents. And that is the gift of thankfulness. Thankful for M. Thankful for our lives. Thankful that we don't spend every waking minute cursing our existence or each other. So, SO damn thankful that that is not the house we live in or the relationship we have with each other. After a weekend with the 'rents, we inevitably leave thinking, "Our life isn't so bad. Except for that one really, really, horrific thing that happened to us and our daughters, we have a lot to be thankful for. Let's not forget it."

**

Tonight, we are trying not to forget it.

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.

Dear Powers That Be

Dear powers that be:

Today is M's birthday. Please let it be a good one. Some surprise presents this morning softened the start but I can sense he's apprehensive. Slightly unsettled. Putting on a brave face.

The first words out of his mouth this morning were, "I'm sorry I don't make so much money."

He is finally in a place where he enjoys what he does, is invested in the things he creates on a daily basis and somehow that's not enough? Now somehow funds are an issue, when they have never been? Ever? We are in a far better fiscal place (still not great but at least we have a plan) than ever before and cash is his concern?

I seriously doubt it.

But with fatherhood on hold, Father's Day looming and ESPN playing that fucking wiffleball-kids and dads in the backyard-these are priceless moments-reminding men to play with their kids promo Every Fucking Minute when the remote is nowhere to be found, well, I am guessing an existential crisis could be brewing.

Dear ESPN: Please stop acting like you care, you Disney shills.

Dear powers that be: Please cut my honey some slack.

Please.

Way Too Early to Be Blogging

But I haven't decided whether or not I'll be schlepping my computer along with me on the train to my appointment today.

Yes, even though this is a day I've been waiting for for oh, um, 8 years, even though I have a d*mn T-shirt with the date emblazoned across the front, for some reason, when I made the appointment to go see my RE's preferred maternal fetal medicine specialists (who BTW only do consultations on Monday mornings, Tuesday or Friday afternoons - read: every single time that it would be impossible for M to get off work) I somehow FORGOT this was Inauguration Day.

Way to go, Einstein.

So, instead of sharing a great day with my co-workers who I am sure will be circled around a TV at any free moment today, I'll be chug, chugging along, then schlep, schlepping over to a very big hospital and then waiting, waiting, waiting to hear the big city MFMs tell me what dolts and nimrods my little city MFMs are before they give me their assessment of what precautions we should take for our next attempted pregnancy.

That is my prediction for the day.

M's already left for work. He's feeling a little edgy, I can tell. Feeling guilty about not being able to come along. Feeling bad that I have to retell "the birth story" on my own. Feeling frustrated that we can't just rely on the big city doctors and hospitals for everything up to and including (dare I say it, a delivery). But the distance is too much, at least for that last part.

So we'll take what we can get. Much as the drive/train ride can be a drain, we've actually come to enjoy the time together. We know the route. We know how to entertain each other. If anything, those long drives both coming and going have been the setting for probably every major decision we have made on this (almost) 2 year sojourn.

Yes. Two years. I had that realization around 6 a.m. this morning. My two-year blogoversary is just around the corner. In March, it will mark 2 years since our very first visit to the clinic we love.

And for a few minutes, I was totally deflated. Two years? Two fucking years we've been at this? Only to get so close....and then I veer down that very dangerous path of, if everything were ok I would be 28 weeks pregnant now and gosh I bet I would be huge and the girls would be kicking and....

and and and

Sigh.

But then I remember that everything in our lives (our, meaning M and me) seems to work in these fairly compact 2-year cycles. Don't ask me why. It just happens. Me in Poland = just shy of 2 years. Us in Chile = what I told my boss would be a few months' experiment in telecommuting turned into 2 years. Back home = 2 years. Cross-country trip across the U.S. = once again, just shy of 2 years.

TTC (and have a baby we can bring home. That's the critical part)= coming up on 2 years.

So, if I believed in cycles (which I DO) that could lead one to believe that our lives without children might soon be over. It could mean that the cycle we begin in just a month or two could be the one.

Please be the one.

A Stolen List Stolen from Nancy

A few days ago, I found this list over at The New Life of Nancy, who originally grabbed it from Truck Driver Wife.

I've been feeling like it might be a good exercise to remember all of the things I have done and to remind myself that, you know, in the grand scheme of things, my life is pretty great. And there is still room for it to get better. My count so far is at 62 (thanks to S. who reminded me about a foolish yet glorious moment in the sea oh so long ago). But I'm still working on it...

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band (wait, does singing as a guest singer on my birthday count?)
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang/played a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning (oh Peru. You pained me so...)
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables.
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train (many, many times. And got my backpack stolen on a careless night. Thank you, Poland...)
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill (um, like today?)
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community (those buggies are a traffic hazard!)
36. Taught yourself a new language (now if only I could remember it)
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke (I rock a mean David Allen Coe. Holla!)
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Gotten flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (do crabs count?)
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Made a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

Milestones Galore

Two days ago marked 20 years cancer free for me, and I wrote about it a little bit here.

But what isn't apparent in that pretty upbeat post was the deep, deep sadness that consumed me for the entire day. It started creeping up on me as I was writing the post, then just kind of got worse and worse until hubby found me in my office a weepy mess. What the f%^& is wrong with me?? I asked that question, he didn't. I didn't think I had an answer. I just assumed it was a typical malaise that we all encounter every now and again. I was surprised by the words that came out.

20 years later and what do I have to show for it? What have I done with the life that was given to me? How have I helped anyone else besides myself? Who have I lived for beyond me? My life could have ended 20 years ago but it didn't. How have I shown my gratitude?

That was part of it. The other part of was based much more soundly in self-pity. 20 years later and I still have a drawer full of meds I can't afford. What's changed?? 20 years later and I am trying to undo what's been done to pieces of me that were never diseased in the first place.

But hang on a second. That's awfully presumptuous of me. What makes me think that hubby and I would have zero problems conceiving if cancer weren't in the picture? What makes me so sure that we wouldn't be in the same boat as so many of our real and blogging friends - testing, trying, testing again, trying to figure out why what should be so easy sometimes isn't? Cancer is an easy, easy (and deserving) scapegoat for us. But it has saved us from the months and months of diagnostic hells that so many of you go through - Do not pass Go, go directly to Egg Donor Program. We didn't have the unknowns, the unexplained, the maybe this, maybe that diagnoses that I know would have driven me crazy. So, I'm thinking for that I should be thankful.

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of our first consultation with the RE. One year. That's a long time, but then again, it isn't. One year later and what do we have to show for it? Well, we now have our families and most of our friends fully invested in (and thankfully supportive of) our desire to have a family. It's no longer a secret, something whispered wistfully between us. I have this blog and this one which have turned into vehicles for empowerment, advocacy, and most importantly, have put me in touch with some kick *ss amazing, phenomenal women.

I have two little embryos that I hope are growing inside me as I type. Tune in Thursday for the first Beta.

And for that, I am thankful.

Word.

100th Post

This is my 100th post here on The Maybe Baby so I'd better make it good, right?

How about this:

Hubby and I were going a little stir crazy today so we went for a long walk and a trip to the gym. Came home to a phone message telling us that our beautiful donor is triggering TONIGHT.

Retrieval is Tuesday. Transfer is Friday.

Nurse friend H. if you are reading this, you are going to be getting a call from me in about a minute to ask for your help with the first progesterone shot tomorrow night.

Great News!

It's official: I'm an auntie!

Hubby's sister gave birth to a healthy little girl just about an hour ago. She is 3 weeks early but initial reports say all is well. Yay!

While she hasn't shared many details with us, I know her journey towards this moment hasn't been easy either. Her medical history is just about as thick as mine and includes things like rods in her back which couldn't have made a natural delivery sans epidural too fun. But: mom is well. Baby is well. And we are taking some much relieved grandparents out to lunch today.

Hopefully their vision will be blurred by tears of joy and they won't have to look at the mess that is me. Hubby took me to the emergency room around 4 am Wednesday night because I felt like someone was slicing my left eyeball open. Yeah, I know. Graphic. Sorry.

Diagnosis: a corneal abrasion most likely caused by something getting caught underneath my contact lens. Since I have been spending the last few weeks digging through dusty bins and cleaning out my parents' shed and basement, that explanation made sense to me. The ER sent me home with a tube of some goopy goo to stick in my eye every 3-4 hours and a little bottle of Vicodin to ease the pain.

Hubby tells me I am a sight for sore eyes. Or a sight of sore eyes. One of the two.

Today

Is my birthday! And although I have been swamped with work, I know today is going to be a great day.

So much has transpired since my last post - some good (like my birthday and forward progress with the ED process), some horrific (like last week's Supreme Court ruling) and some just emotionally draining (like my "why didn't you tell me" adoption meltdown/confrontation with the 'rents). Oy vey. So much to say, so much to talk about!

But right now I am scrambling to put together my 10:30 presentation for work. After that, I will be busy counting the hours to my birthday bash (last hurrah?). AFTER that, I will blog and blog and blog.