Back in December, one of my twitter friends mentioned that she felt like she hadn't done anything in 2012 besides trying to (and failing to) become a parent. Knowing this to be untrue, I assigned her some homework. I told her I wanted to see a list of at least one fun/cool/brave thing she had done for each month of 2012 outside of family building efforts.
Upon reflection, I decided that I should make my own list to remind me that 2012 was more than just the Year of the Donor Egg. Without further ado:
January - Prof and I went outside and took nighttime self-portraits in a snowstorm.
February - BFF(H) came for a long weekend and we all went night sledding.
March - I kind of lost March... we had an early spring and I know I did a lot of gardening.
April - I donated the last of my unused IVF meds to another couple with no Rx coverage.
May - I met @thisispersonal and she bought me my first martini in NYC.
June - Prof and I planted an herb garden along the side of our house.
July - I tried dragon fruit for the first time and my mom came for a visit.
August - We attended the wedding of a long time friend.
September - I turned 40 and survived the experience.
October - Prof and I took a torchlight tour of our local cemetery.
November - I voted. Not my first time, but it always feels like such a big deal.
December - Spent the holidays with all four of our parents in the same house.
I also thought I'd follow up on my New Year's Resolutions from 2012. I think we only missed one month of photos (March again... what on earth was I doing in March?). I also managed to get cards to my grandma all but one month (not March this time) and talked to both of my parents at least once per week, if not always on Sunday. I did not get a new job title, though it was a near miss. I did at least get the pay raise that was supposed to accompany the new job title. So pretty good results. My resolution for this year may just be to keep it up.
Showing posts with label Bigger Picture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bigger Picture. Show all posts
Monday, January 21, 2013
Monday, September 26, 2011
Not a Happy Thought
I'm in a particularly morbid place right now, so I understand if you want to skip this one. I just needed to get these thoughts out of my head and into the light. I've been doing a lot of thinking about what happens in the event of a positive beta. One unfortunate side effect of infertility is the all the extra time we spend thinking about what might happen when we finally get what we want. I'll tell you right now, I don't have answers. Only in an infertile's mind does this potential outcome spiral into a nightmare of epic proportions.
I'm putting the cart before the horse and wondering, if we do get a pregnancy out of this IVF (assuming we ever get to complete this IVF), how long do we wait to tell our friends and family? It seems like such a mundane question. Until I start to play out various possible scenarios in my mind.
Your average fertile couple seems to be sharing photos of the positive HPT within days. Cautious fertiles deem ten weeks to be the safe zone for sharing. This is clearly out of the question, but then, how long do we wait? Most of my IF tweeps seem to settle around the end of the first trimester, which seems... almost long enough. Until I consider all the things that could go wrong for a woman my age at any of the critical "seeing shit more clearly" appointments that seem to occur between 15-20 weeks. And the incompetent cervixes that seem to fail between 20-23 weeks.
And suddenly I realize, this is getting ridiculous. If I waited even as late as twenty weeks to tell, my family would be furious that I hadn't told sooner. So obviously, I would have to come clean before I felt safe. Cue epiphany.
If there's one thing I've learned from my involvement in this community in the last three years, it's that we are NEVER out of the woods. There will never be a point when we know everything will be OK. There may perhaps come a time when the fear abates, when we manage to relax or even forget about mortality for a while. Or maybe not. I'm one of those people who believes that the moment you get complacent and stop worrying about something is the moment things will go wrong. I have been told that I worry too much, that this simply isn't logical, but I'm wired this way. I don't know how to turn this off.
No parent should ever have to bury their child, but it happens all too often. As a child, one of my friends lost her little brother in a freak playground accident. As a teenager, I lost one friend to cancer and another to a car accident. In my twenties, I lost a friend to an overdose. In my thirties, a family member lost her five year old and the doctors never even found a reason. They all died too young and they all had mothers and fathers who will carry that loss for the rest of their lives.
This year, my thirty year old cousin buried her two year old son, and my eighty-nine year old aunt buried her fifty-eight year old son. We are never out of the woods.
If you made it all the way to the end of this post, I kinda feel like I should buy you a drink, or at least a cookie. I did warn you.
I'm putting the cart before the horse and wondering, if we do get a pregnancy out of this IVF (assuming we ever get to complete this IVF), how long do we wait to tell our friends and family? It seems like such a mundane question. Until I start to play out various possible scenarios in my mind.
Your average fertile couple seems to be sharing photos of the positive HPT within days. Cautious fertiles deem ten weeks to be the safe zone for sharing. This is clearly out of the question, but then, how long do we wait? Most of my IF tweeps seem to settle around the end of the first trimester, which seems... almost long enough. Until I consider all the things that could go wrong for a woman my age at any of the critical "seeing shit more clearly" appointments that seem to occur between 15-20 weeks. And the incompetent cervixes that seem to fail between 20-23 weeks.
And suddenly I realize, this is getting ridiculous. If I waited even as late as twenty weeks to tell, my family would be furious that I hadn't told sooner. So obviously, I would have to come clean before I felt safe. Cue epiphany.
If there's one thing I've learned from my involvement in this community in the last three years, it's that we are NEVER out of the woods. There will never be a point when we know everything will be OK. There may perhaps come a time when the fear abates, when we manage to relax or even forget about mortality for a while. Or maybe not. I'm one of those people who believes that the moment you get complacent and stop worrying about something is the moment things will go wrong. I have been told that I worry too much, that this simply isn't logical, but I'm wired this way. I don't know how to turn this off.
No parent should ever have to bury their child, but it happens all too often. As a child, one of my friends lost her little brother in a freak playground accident. As a teenager, I lost one friend to cancer and another to a car accident. In my twenties, I lost a friend to an overdose. In my thirties, a family member lost her five year old and the doctors never even found a reason. They all died too young and they all had mothers and fathers who will carry that loss for the rest of their lives.
This year, my thirty year old cousin buried her two year old son, and my eighty-nine year old aunt buried her fifty-eight year old son. We are never out of the woods.
If you made it all the way to the end of this post, I kinda feel like I should buy you a drink, or at least a cookie. I did warn you.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Letter to Human Resources
Last year, we saw Project IF for National Infertility Awareness Week. Keiko's WhatIF video made me want to start talking about infertility to someone other than my husband and my doctor. The biggest step I could convince myself to take was to start up an anonymous Twitter account and this blog.
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week this year, I sent the following email* to my Human Resources department. I used the template provided by Resolve and made a few edits to tailor it to my situation. It's not much and at a large employer like mine, I don't know what the impact will be. But it's not anonymous and it was time to do SOMETHING:
For example, an employer survey conducted by the consulting firm William M. Mercer found that 91 percent of respondents offering infertility treatment have not experienced an increase in their medical costs as a result of providing this coverage. For more on the survey, click here.
As proven in the following studies, the perceived cost of infertility treatment is typically overstated.
Additional information on issues surrounding infertility can be found on Resolve.org. I hope The Company will consider extending infertility coverage to include IVF and support our family building efforts. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Moi
Baby steps people, baby steps.
*All names changed to protect my privacy.
The internet is forever, after all.
In honor of National Infertility Awareness Week this year, I sent the following email* to my Human Resources department. I used the template provided by Resolve and made a few edits to tailor it to my situation. It's not much and at a large employer like mine, I don't know what the impact will be. But it's not anonymous and it was time to do SOMETHING:
Dear AVP of Human Resources,
I have been an employee of This Company for over two years. This Company is a valuable asset to our community and the wider region, providing innumerable benefits to employees and community members alike. This week is National Infertility Awareness Week, and I am writing to request that you consider adding coverage for in vitro fertilization (IVF) to the health benefit packages This Company offers.
Statistics indicate that one in eight couples of reproductive age in the United States suffer from infertility. That translates to 7.3 million people suffering from a disease that receives little recognition or respect for the traumatic experience that it truly is.
Recent studies have shown that the psychological impact of infertility diagnosis and treatment is equivalent to that of cancer. According to the World Health Organization and the CDC, infertility is a disease. For many patients, IVF is the only effective form of treatment for the form of the disease from which they suffer.
Some critics of infertility treatments and insurance benefits for those treatments claim that infertility is a lifestyle choice. While it would be disingenuous to deny that some patients seek treatment as a lifestyle choice (namely to delay child rearing to a later, more stable point in their lives), those patients represent only a small fraction of the total of those in need of treatment. This criticism erroneously assumes that age is the only factor contributing to infertility. Even patients whose age might be considered a factor may only have come to seek treatment after years of trying unsuccessfully to conceive without medical intervention.
Employers often believe that adding infertility coverage benefits will increase health care costs. However, studies indicate that including comprehensive infertility coverage in a health benefit package may actually reduce costs and improve outcomes.
As proven in the following studies, the perceived cost of infertility treatment is typically overstated.
- Often patients select treatment based on what is covered in their health benefit plan rather than what is the most appropriate treatment. For example, a woman having trouble conceiving because of blocked fallopian tubes or tubal scarring may opt for tubal surgery, a covered treatment, which can cost $8,000 -$13,000 per surgery. Many patients are forced to forgo in vitro fertilization (IVF) because it is not a covered service even though it costs about the same as tubal surgery and statistically is more likely to result in a successful pregnancy.Infertility as a Covered Benefit, 1997). According to William M. Mercer, “The decline in use of high-cost procedures like tubal surgery would likely offset the cost to include IVF as a benefit and provide improved health outcomes.” (William M. Mercer,
- In states with mandated infertility insurance, the rate of multiple births is lower than in states without coverage. (New England Journal of Medicine, “Insurance Coverage and Outcomes of In Vitro Fertilization,” August 2002). Couples with insurance coverage are free to make more appropriate decisions with their physicians based on medical necessity rather than financial considerations which often result in multiple births and a high rate of complications during and post-pregnancy. Read more here.
- Comprehensive infertility coverage may actually reduce premium expense by as much as $1 per member/per month. According to The Hidden Costs of Infertility Treatment in Employee Health Benefits Plans (Blackwell, Richard E. and the William Mercer Actuarial Team, 2000), insurance premiums now indirectly provide coverage for “hidden” infertility benefits such as surgeries to remove scarring in the fallopian tubes for women or varicose vein removal for men, were calculated to be adequate to cover more effective and often less expensive treatments such as ovulation induction, intrauterine insemination and in vitro fertilization.
- The cost of infertility services as a percent of the total health premiums went down after the 1987 Massachusetts mandate. (Study by Griffin and Panak, Fertility & Sterility, 1998)
- In vitro fertilization accounts for less than three percent of infertility services. According to the American Society of Reproductive Medicine (ASRM), 85%-90% of infertility cases can be treated with conventional medications.
Additional information on issues surrounding infertility can be found on Resolve.org. I hope The Company will consider extending infertility coverage to include IVF and support our family building efforts. Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
Moi
Baby steps people, baby steps.
*All names changed to protect my privacy.
The internet is forever, after all.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Old Dog Searching for New Trick
Depression has been a factor in my life since my childhood. Both of my parents suffered from it. My mother sought therapy and has been on anti-depressants since before I left home. My father didn't admit he had a problem till long after my mother divorced him, but he's now on anti-depressants as well.
I've never really felt like I personally had true depression. Sure, I had down times, I had periods of situational depression. Who doesn't get a little depressed every now and then? But on the whole, I feel equipped to self-manage my blues.
I made my first foray into therapy just after I finished college, returning occasionally until I completed grad school. My diagnosis was chronic anxiety and panic attacks. I was uncertain of my path in life and needed an objective listener to talk through my desires and decisions.
One day a few years ago, I started crying at work and couldn't understand why or figure out how to stop. I left work and drove straight to my GP, which led to a diagnosis of a severe vitamin D deficiency and a temporary prescription for an anti-depressant. I took the first half dose and the side-effects were so bad (heart palpitations and hallucinations) that I was unable leave the house. I threw the rest away. Fortunately, my doctor also prescribed a mega dose of vitamin D which kicked in within a week or so and my depressive symptoms abated.
There have been a handful of times in my life when a case of the blues developed into what can only be described as a Black Cloud that cast every aspect of my life in gloom and shadow. At these times, I felt that there was absolutely no point in continuing my life as I knew it and the only solution I could see was dramatic and all consuming change. In short, I would drop everything and run. Nothing like walking away from your life and reinventing yourself to force yourself into Hope for the future. Not the healthiest strategy perhaps, but a fresh start was 100% effective.
This is the first time since getting married and buying our house that I've spent so much time under my Black Cloud, and my usual tactics won't work here. Running is not an option anymore. Perhaps that's why I feel so hopeless and desperate this time. I need a new strategy and I'm at a loss. I need a new trick.
I've never really felt like I personally had true depression. Sure, I had down times, I had periods of situational depression. Who doesn't get a little depressed every now and then? But on the whole, I feel equipped to self-manage my blues.
I made my first foray into therapy just after I finished college, returning occasionally until I completed grad school. My diagnosis was chronic anxiety and panic attacks. I was uncertain of my path in life and needed an objective listener to talk through my desires and decisions.
One day a few years ago, I started crying at work and couldn't understand why or figure out how to stop. I left work and drove straight to my GP, which led to a diagnosis of a severe vitamin D deficiency and a temporary prescription for an anti-depressant. I took the first half dose and the side-effects were so bad (heart palpitations and hallucinations) that I was unable leave the house. I threw the rest away. Fortunately, my doctor also prescribed a mega dose of vitamin D which kicked in within a week or so and my depressive symptoms abated.
There have been a handful of times in my life when a case of the blues developed into what can only be described as a Black Cloud that cast every aspect of my life in gloom and shadow. At these times, I felt that there was absolutely no point in continuing my life as I knew it and the only solution I could see was dramatic and all consuming change. In short, I would drop everything and run. Nothing like walking away from your life and reinventing yourself to force yourself into Hope for the future. Not the healthiest strategy perhaps, but a fresh start was 100% effective.
This is the first time since getting married and buying our house that I've spent so much time under my Black Cloud, and my usual tactics won't work here. Running is not an option anymore. Perhaps that's why I feel so hopeless and desperate this time. I need a new strategy and I'm at a loss. I need a new trick.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Things to Feel Good About
So now we wait. Again. There really is no end to the waiting in this game is there?
I call with my next CD1 and we do a bunch of baseline stuff & blood work. Depending on our calendars and my cycle lengths, I will probably start BCP in early May. In the meantime, I don't really have much to report. I'm trying to focus right now on the good stuff, things I can be grateful for in the midst of all that is so unfair about this situation.
Aside from the fabulous support group I've found here and on Twitter...
I call with my next CD1 and we do a bunch of baseline stuff & blood work. Depending on our calendars and my cycle lengths, I will probably start BCP in early May. In the meantime, I don't really have much to report. I'm trying to focus right now on the good stuff, things I can be grateful for in the midst of all that is so unfair about this situation.
Aside from the fabulous support group I've found here and on Twitter...
- I already have most of the meds I will need for IVF and what I don't yet have, shouldn't be too costly.
- Our cars are both paid off.
- My student loans are all paid off.
- Our back taxes are all paid off.
- Our only remaining debts are our mortgage and one credit card (though it IS a doozy).
- Prof has contracts booked through the end of 2011. This is huge!
- 2010 tax materials have been passed to the accountant and she said they "look good". No whammy, no whammy!
- We have not yet needed to use the (tiny, tiny) savings we put away last year (knock on wood).
- The weather should only improve from here on out.
- My boss is back in the office, so my work stress should decrease.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Mumble, Mumble, Moan
Fair warning - this is mostly moaning.
The family has vacated the premises, so it's safe to log back in. We had a lovely (if short) visit with the parents. We ate way too much and drank too much wine, and there is enough food (and wine) left over to feed another table of six. I didn't even bother to log my calories on myfit.nesspal. BFF(B) very kindly stashed my meds in her fridge so the parents wouldn't accidentally stumble on them and NOBODY mentioned grandkids or babies at all. Nice.
Started working on the Christmas lists (for giving and receiving). Actually ventured into the retail wilds on Saturday and scored a few gifties for Prof so I can start crossing things off! That was traumatic enough, I think I'll stick to the internet for the remainder. Funny, I used to love shopping, but now it's absolute torture.
Pre-op consultation with the RE is this Tuesday. No idea yet when the surgery will be, but this will get us on the waiting list so if someone else cancels in December we might get in sooner rather than later. Otherwise, looks like it might be January. More waiting.
I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how we'll pay for the IVF if we end up on that road. My maxed out FSA will cover most of it, but they don't cut me a check until a procedure has been performed and a claim sent in. The IVF has to be paid in full two weeks before retrieval. Which leaves a gap that my credit card can't handle. So there's that.
I have our last major work event of the year coming up this Thursday. I had to leave this event early last year with the onset of what I have since decided was an early miscarriage. After three days of sore boobs and brief flashes of nausea (the likes of which I had never experienced before and have not seen since), I got what was one of the worst periods of my life right in the middle of this event. My period is due over the weekend (can't pinpoint since I didn't track ovulation this cycle), so if my luteal phase is shortened, I may get to have my period for the event this year as well! Good times, can't wait.
We should get our new appliances this week (if all goes according to plan - ha! ha!) and I need new tires on my car before we get actual snowfall (or godforbid ICE). I'm more thankful than I can express that we have the cash to do these things right now and don't need the credit card for Christmas gifts this year. Not all bad.
Every inch of my body hurts and if I breathe deeply, I get an unpleasant hot feeling in my lungs. With everything I need to accomplish this week, I DO NOT need the flu. I just want this week to be over already.
The family has vacated the premises, so it's safe to log back in. We had a lovely (if short) visit with the parents. We ate way too much and drank too much wine, and there is enough food (and wine) left over to feed another table of six. I didn't even bother to log my calories on myfit.nesspal. BFF(B) very kindly stashed my meds in her fridge so the parents wouldn't accidentally stumble on them and NOBODY mentioned grandkids or babies at all. Nice.
Started working on the Christmas lists (for giving and receiving). Actually ventured into the retail wilds on Saturday and scored a few gifties for Prof so I can start crossing things off! That was traumatic enough, I think I'll stick to the internet for the remainder. Funny, I used to love shopping, but now it's absolute torture.
Pre-op consultation with the RE is this Tuesday. No idea yet when the surgery will be, but this will get us on the waiting list so if someone else cancels in December we might get in sooner rather than later. Otherwise, looks like it might be January. More waiting.
I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how we'll pay for the IVF if we end up on that road. My maxed out FSA will cover most of it, but they don't cut me a check until a procedure has been performed and a claim sent in. The IVF has to be paid in full two weeks before retrieval. Which leaves a gap that my credit card can't handle. So there's that.
I have our last major work event of the year coming up this Thursday. I had to leave this event early last year with the onset of what I have since decided was an early miscarriage. After three days of sore boobs and brief flashes of nausea (the likes of which I had never experienced before and have not seen since), I got what was one of the worst periods of my life right in the middle of this event. My period is due over the weekend (can't pinpoint since I didn't track ovulation this cycle), so if my luteal phase is shortened, I may get to have my period for the event this year as well! Good times, can't wait.
We should get our new appliances this week (if all goes according to plan - ha! ha!) and I need new tires on my car before we get actual snowfall (or godforbid ICE). I'm more thankful than I can express that we have the cash to do these things right now and don't need the credit card for Christmas gifts this year. Not all bad.
Every inch of my body hurts and if I breathe deeply, I get an unpleasant hot feeling in my lungs. With everything I need to accomplish this week, I DO NOT need the flu. I just want this week to be over already.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Just to Hear Myself Talk
Still trying to manage direct contact with my original RE (really need a name for him) to discuss next steps in regards to the saline sono-thing and the polyps. I left a message, but have not received a call-back. I'll try again Monday. Not critical yet as the whole records transfer thing is still in process, but I just want to feel like I have a plan of action. I'm really in limbo at the moment. Not quite Hell, but it sucks all the same.
Tick-tock, people. Tick. Tock.
Professor is home safe and sound, no further airplane malfunctions. He did opt-out of the nudie scanners and got thoroughly groped for it. He also caught a bug and has been a little under the weather, but all in all, just glad to have him back.
We ordered a new fridge and stove on Saturday. The ones we have now came with the house when we bought it and have seen better days. Neither were much to speak of when they were new, and that was clearly a long time ago. We had hoped to have the new ones in place for Thanksgiving, but alas, that was not to be. I am inordinately excited by the prospect of new appliances. I keep catching myself giggling at the prospect of loading up my fancy new fridge shelves. And an ice-maker! At last! With these appliances installed, our kitchen will be done! We have been working on it little by little since we bought the house over four years ago. I think the master bedroom may be next...
This will be a busy week. I have a haircut and we are double-dating with BFF(B) and her DH on Tuesday - to see HP7! We also have rather a lot of housekeeping to get done as we are hosting my Dad and both of Prof's parents for Thanksgiving this year (thus the hope for the early appliance delivery).
May not be posting again before the holiday, so just in case:
Happy Thanksgiving! Try not throttle anyone!
Tick-tock, people. Tick. Tock.
Professor is home safe and sound, no further airplane malfunctions. He did opt-out of the nudie scanners and got thoroughly groped for it. He also caught a bug and has been a little under the weather, but all in all, just glad to have him back.
We ordered a new fridge and stove on Saturday. The ones we have now came with the house when we bought it and have seen better days. Neither were much to speak of when they were new, and that was clearly a long time ago. We had hoped to have the new ones in place for Thanksgiving, but alas, that was not to be. I am inordinately excited by the prospect of new appliances. I keep catching myself giggling at the prospect of loading up my fancy new fridge shelves. And an ice-maker! At last! With these appliances installed, our kitchen will be done! We have been working on it little by little since we bought the house over four years ago. I think the master bedroom may be next...
This will be a busy week. I have a haircut and we are double-dating with BFF(B) and her DH on Tuesday - to see HP7! We also have rather a lot of housekeeping to get done as we are hosting my Dad and both of Prof's parents for Thanksgiving this year (thus the hope for the early appliance delivery).
May not be posting again before the holiday, so just in case:
Happy Thanksgiving! Try not throttle anyone!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Happy Holidays (harumph)
I love the Holiday Season, as long as it stays a few months in the future! There's something magical about the promise the holidays hold as long as they aren't right upon us. Of course, once we hit November 1, all bets are off and the stress just builds until the grand yet soporific anti-climax of New Year's Day.
This time of year always brings back memories of idyllic childhood Christmases, and those memories get all rolled up with the stories in the multitude of holiday children's picture books I've collected over the years. My Mom is a regular June Cleaver and really did an amazing job of building these memories for me to carry forward. She would be in the kitchen baking holiday treats while my Dad fought with the Christmas lights in the living room, and I would bounce between the two "helping". Somehow these ghosts of Christmas past are so seductive in their air of fantasy, that there can be no chance of present-day reality living up to their standard. I know I'm not alone in this, that this is part of being a grown-up. But I can't help but think that, in the usual way of things, grown-ups get to move through this transition into recreating those fantasies for their children, sharing the stories with new little ears, seeing the lights with new eyes. And we all know how that's panning out in this house.
So all of that leads to a host of conflicting emotions. I feel like I should be jolly and hopeful, but I can't help reminding myself of Reality. I want to be generous and giving, but some days have trouble just dragging myself along.
Sorry if this post was a bit of a bummer for you guys, but it's where I'm at today. I know this is no great revelation. This is just Life. It is what it is and it's down to me to make the most of it.
This time of year always brings back memories of idyllic childhood Christmases, and those memories get all rolled up with the stories in the multitude of holiday children's picture books I've collected over the years. My Mom is a regular June Cleaver and really did an amazing job of building these memories for me to carry forward. She would be in the kitchen baking holiday treats while my Dad fought with the Christmas lights in the living room, and I would bounce between the two "helping". Somehow these ghosts of Christmas past are so seductive in their air of fantasy, that there can be no chance of present-day reality living up to their standard. I know I'm not alone in this, that this is part of being a grown-up. But I can't help but think that, in the usual way of things, grown-ups get to move through this transition into recreating those fantasies for their children, sharing the stories with new little ears, seeing the lights with new eyes. And we all know how that's panning out in this house.
So all of that leads to a host of conflicting emotions. I feel like I should be jolly and hopeful, but I can't help reminding myself of Reality. I want to be generous and giving, but some days have trouble just dragging myself along.
- I hate traveling.
- I hate family drama.
- I hate feeling like I have to go broke to make things "Merry".
- I hate wondering if this will be my last Christmas with my grandma.
- I hate the fear of the inevitable questions about the absence of offspring in our marriage.
- I love evergreen scented candles.
- I love Christmas trees and decorations.
- I love making cookies and other tasty treats to share.
- I love the early season snowfalls, as long as I'm not driving.
- I love sitting down for a big family meal and seeing my loved ones faces around the table.
Sorry if this post was a bit of a bummer for you guys, but it's where I'm at today. I know this is no great revelation. This is just Life. It is what it is and it's down to me to make the most of it.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Comfort Food
In honor of Fall and due to the fact that I have no cycle news to report, I thought I'd share one of our favorite cool weather recipes -
White Chili.
This is a recipe that I made up based on some chili that I had at a restaurant and fell in love with. Growing up in Texas, I was raised on traditional red chili. Needless to say, I make a pretty mean chili if I do say so. I even won first place in a chili cook-off once!
I know there is supposedly a big divide over whether or not "true" chili contains beans (actually, it doesn't), but ever since my days as a poor starving college student when I had to stretch every ingredient to its fullest potential, I've been adding beans to my recipes.
To chili snobs everywhere, I say: WHATEVER! My chili tastes good! The Professor goes back for seconds and that is a rare occurrence indeed. Anyhoo, on to the instructions:
2 chicken breasts
1 medium white onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
6C chicken or vegetable broth
1 16oz can white beans, drained & rinsed (I use cannellini)
1 small can chopped green chiles
1 7oz can Herdez salsa verde (or 3/4C green salsa)
1t cumin
1t dried oregano
1/2t chili powder
1T masa (or regular flour, but masa is better)
salt to taste
You will want to use a large soup pot. I don't use any oil, because I am cooking in cast iron, but you can if you like.
1. Sear the chicken breasts over high heat until they begin to brown, then reduce heat to medium and chop or shred the chicken as it finishes cooking.
2. When the chicken is almost cooked through, add the chopped onion & garlic and cook until soft.
3. Stir in the cumin, oregano & chili powder. I like to deglaze the pan at this point with a splash of bourbon or white wine.
4. Add the broth, beans, green chiles & salsa verde and stir. Reduce heat to low and simmer for about 30 minutes.
5. Place the 1T masa or flour in a small bowl and stir in small amounts of hot water until it reaches the consistency of heavy cream. Add this mixture to the simmering chili, stirring constantly. Simmer for another 10-15 minutes. If the chili is not thick enough, repeat with another tablespoon of masa/flour.
This makes four servings. We serve with cornbread. If you are making cornbread from scratch, you can also substitute masa for the regular flour in the cornbread recipe - it makes it that much better!
As far as where to buy masa if you don't live somewhere they sell it in the grocery store, you can get it on Amazon (this is even the brand I use, though I got mine at the store).
White Chili.
This is a recipe that I made up based on some chili that I had at a restaurant and fell in love with. Growing up in Texas, I was raised on traditional red chili. Needless to say, I make a pretty mean chili if I do say so. I even won first place in a chili cook-off once!
I know there is supposedly a big divide over whether or not "true" chili contains beans (actually, it doesn't), but ever since my days as a poor starving college student when I had to stretch every ingredient to its fullest potential, I've been adding beans to my recipes.
To chili snobs everywhere, I say: WHATEVER! My chili tastes good! The Professor goes back for seconds and that is a rare occurrence indeed. Anyhoo, on to the instructions:
2 chicken breasts
1 medium white onion, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
6C chicken or vegetable broth
1 16oz can white beans, drained & rinsed (I use cannellini)
1 small can chopped green chiles
1 7oz can Herdez salsa verde (or 3/4C green salsa)
1t cumin
1t dried oregano
1/2t chili powder
1T masa (or regular flour, but masa is better)
salt to taste
You will want to use a large soup pot. I don't use any oil, because I am cooking in cast iron, but you can if you like.
1. Sear the chicken breasts over high heat until they begin to brown, then reduce heat to medium and chop or shred the chicken as it finishes cooking.
2. When the chicken is almost cooked through, add the chopped onion & garlic and cook until soft.
3. Stir in the cumin, oregano & chili powder. I like to deglaze the pan at this point with a splash of bourbon or white wine.
4. Add the broth, beans, green chiles & salsa verde and stir. Reduce heat to low and simmer for about 30 minutes.
5. Place the 1T masa or flour in a small bowl and stir in small amounts of hot water until it reaches the consistency of heavy cream. Add this mixture to the simmering chili, stirring constantly. Simmer for another 10-15 minutes. If the chili is not thick enough, repeat with another tablespoon of masa/flour.
This makes four servings. We serve with cornbread. If you are making cornbread from scratch, you can also substitute masa for the regular flour in the cornbread recipe - it makes it that much better!
As far as where to buy masa if you don't live somewhere they sell it in the grocery store, you can get it on Amazon (this is even the brand I use, though I got mine at the store).
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Loss for Words
I don't know what to say.
I'm benched, so no cycle news to obsess over or report. I'll probably start the OPKs this weekend, since I've already got a box of them. Why not...
I'm caught up on all of your blogs. I'm celebrating with you, crying with you, infuriated on your behalf and waiting right along with you. But I seem to have no words.
So I will leave you with the minor details that are pinging around in my skull for the moment:
Work is getting busier. Today was the first day in weeks that it took me until the very end of the day to get through my inbox. No time for wool gathering. This is a relief, as I have really been starting to worry that I'm missing/forgetting some big chunks of my job. I shouldn't be as caught up as I am. Not at this time of year. With our big board meeting coming up, this makes me VERY nervous.
The house plant is not doing well. I bought it some organic plant food, and have been feeding it and watering it (but not too much/often) and keeping it in the sunshine. And now it has only two leaves, one of which is dying. Oh, and the organic food seems to have given it flies. *sigh*
Last night after work, I went to a yoga class for the first time in more than ten years. It was not easy, but it felt incredible after the fact and I'm only a little sore today. My darling Professor even bought me some new yoga gear as an add-on birthday gift! I'm determined to ditch those 18 pounds that have hitched on since we pulled the goalie and I'm worried about my future health. My BMI is solidly in the "overweight" category and both of my parents have been diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes after lifelong overindulgence and insufficient exercise. I DO NOT want to go there.
We made our last car payment this week. It feels awesome! We're going to redirect that payment to my student loans next and might get them paid off by the end of the year. That will also be awesome!
Happy Thoughts:
I got a pretty new necklace in the mail today.
My boss gave me a nice fat S*bux card for my B-day.
Professor has no immediate plans for travel.
I'm benched, so no cycle news to obsess over or report. I'll probably start the OPKs this weekend, since I've already got a box of them. Why not...
I'm caught up on all of your blogs. I'm celebrating with you, crying with you, infuriated on your behalf and waiting right along with you. But I seem to have no words.
So I will leave you with the minor details that are pinging around in my skull for the moment:
Work is getting busier. Today was the first day in weeks that it took me until the very end of the day to get through my inbox. No time for wool gathering. This is a relief, as I have really been starting to worry that I'm missing/forgetting some big chunks of my job. I shouldn't be as caught up as I am. Not at this time of year. With our big board meeting coming up, this makes me VERY nervous.
The house plant is not doing well. I bought it some organic plant food, and have been feeding it and watering it (but not too much/often) and keeping it in the sunshine. And now it has only two leaves, one of which is dying. Oh, and the organic food seems to have given it flies. *sigh*
Last night after work, I went to a yoga class for the first time in more than ten years. It was not easy, but it felt incredible after the fact and I'm only a little sore today. My darling Professor even bought me some new yoga gear as an add-on birthday gift! I'm determined to ditch those 18 pounds that have hitched on since we pulled the goalie and I'm worried about my future health. My BMI is solidly in the "overweight" category and both of my parents have been diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes after lifelong overindulgence and insufficient exercise. I DO NOT want to go there.
We made our last car payment this week. It feels awesome! We're going to redirect that payment to my student loans next and might get them paid off by the end of the year. That will also be awesome!
Happy Thoughts:
I got a pretty new necklace in the mail today.
My boss gave me a nice fat S*bux card for my B-day.
Professor has no immediate plans for travel.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Keeping Hope (and House Plant) Alive
So I have this plant, this very sad plant. I have no idea what kind of plant this is, aside from House Plant. It is the only plant we have inside our home. It was given to us as a housewarming gift by someone who had no idea what a danger I am to green and growing things.*
For the last year, this poor plant has been hanging on by a thread (kind of like me). It looks so pathetic that I actually quit watering it, hoping it would just go ahead and die so I could empty the pot and move on to killing other plants outside. I sometimes wonder if the Professor has been watering it behind my back (though to be fair, I have not expressly forbidden this), because the damn thing simply will not die. It now consists of two stalks bearing a total of three leaves. But it is still green, still alive.
I found myself contemplating this poor little thing the other night, and my thoughts kept jumping from the plant to my infertility and our repeated failed cycles and back to the plant again. I kind of feel like my motivation and hopes in our struggle to conceive are reflected in this indomitable little mess of a plant. Every time a leaf turns brown and dries up, I pick it off only to see a new leaf break out of the top of the stalk. There are always just enough leaves for the little plant to look alive. And cycle after failed cycle, we pick ourselves up, revise our strategy with just enough hope to make another attempt at beating infertility. I've certainly received more love and better care than Plant, and while neither the plant nor I have actually seen much improvement, we both keep pushing forward.
I'm thinking of giving it a name and some water. Maybe some fresh soil. But if I start taking care of it and it dies, what will that mean for me?
*Note to self: Don't forget to go out and be dangerous to the green and growing weeds in the front yard ASAP!
For the last year, this poor plant has been hanging on by a thread (kind of like me). It looks so pathetic that I actually quit watering it, hoping it would just go ahead and die so I could empty the pot and move on to killing other plants outside. I sometimes wonder if the Professor has been watering it behind my back (though to be fair, I have not expressly forbidden this), because the damn thing simply will not die. It now consists of two stalks bearing a total of three leaves. But it is still green, still alive.
I found myself contemplating this poor little thing the other night, and my thoughts kept jumping from the plant to my infertility and our repeated failed cycles and back to the plant again. I kind of feel like my motivation and hopes in our struggle to conceive are reflected in this indomitable little mess of a plant. Every time a leaf turns brown and dries up, I pick it off only to see a new leaf break out of the top of the stalk. There are always just enough leaves for the little plant to look alive. And cycle after failed cycle, we pick ourselves up, revise our strategy with just enough hope to make another attempt at beating infertility. I've certainly received more love and better care than Plant, and while neither the plant nor I have actually seen much improvement, we both keep pushing forward.
I'm thinking of giving it a name and some water. Maybe some fresh soil. But if I start taking care of it and it dies, what will that mean for me?
*Note to self: Don't forget to go out and be dangerous to the green and growing weeds in the front yard ASAP!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Mood Swings and Dreams
Since my most recent BFN, and the start of this resting cycle, I've been dealing with some pretty intense mood swings (for lack of a better term). Maybe priority shifts would be slightly more accurate... but they seem to be tightly tied to my moods.
I knew before I got the official results last week what the outcome would be, and I was back in the Pit of Despair with a bad case of the "Why ME's". By the time the nurse called with the beta results, I was fairly numb and just wondering idly what the hell to do next (but without any real drive to do anything at all). 24 hours later, I was so at peace with my lot in life, that I almost wanted to walk away from the whole process and focus the rest of my life on enjoying the Professor and myself. And then realizing that no, I can't just give up. But I do need to focus a little more on the Now and a little less on the What If. Keep striving for our goal, but stop living just for that moment. And if that moment never comes? Well... that will be a loss to be grieved, but it will not be the end of my world.
But when I'm lying in bed at night, waiting for sleep to steal in, I replay all the little moments that have stuck in my head thus far and all the little moments that I would be missing if I stopped now. The first time we thought we'd actually gotten me pregnant... sitting at lunch with the Professor and pondering the reality and he actually teared up. The only tears I've seen him shed over this whole mess. The moment when we finally got that first positive, but were too shocked and scared to be really excited. And then there's the future moment when we finally get to tell our parents they will be grandparents, a thousand little moments watching my baby sleep in the dark, listening to a little voice chattering in the back seat of the car, little hands reaching out to grab stuff off the grocery store shelves as we roll by.
Tiny little dreams, mundane even. But they're my dreams.
I knew before I got the official results last week what the outcome would be, and I was back in the Pit of Despair with a bad case of the "Why ME's". By the time the nurse called with the beta results, I was fairly numb and just wondering idly what the hell to do next (but without any real drive to do anything at all). 24 hours later, I was so at peace with my lot in life, that I almost wanted to walk away from the whole process and focus the rest of my life on enjoying the Professor and myself. And then realizing that no, I can't just give up. But I do need to focus a little more on the Now and a little less on the What If. Keep striving for our goal, but stop living just for that moment. And if that moment never comes? Well... that will be a loss to be grieved, but it will not be the end of my world.
But when I'm lying in bed at night, waiting for sleep to steal in, I replay all the little moments that have stuck in my head thus far and all the little moments that I would be missing if I stopped now. The first time we thought we'd actually gotten me pregnant... sitting at lunch with the Professor and pondering the reality and he actually teared up. The only tears I've seen him shed over this whole mess. The moment when we finally got that first positive, but were too shocked and scared to be really excited. And then there's the future moment when we finally get to tell our parents they will be grandparents, a thousand little moments watching my baby sleep in the dark, listening to a little voice chattering in the back seat of the car, little hands reaching out to grab stuff off the grocery store shelves as we roll by.
Tiny little dreams, mundane even. But they're my dreams.
Monday, July 12, 2010
So Happy It's Scaring Me (I May Need Help)
I am so lucky. I have so much more than so many other women. I have so much to be thankful for.
There are times when I am confronted with how easy my life is and how good I have it, and I can't help but feel utterly content with my life just as it is. And for some reason, these moments are inevitably followed by a flare of panic. My instinct is to be wary of feeling too happy because, suddenly, there is the certain knowledge that everything I have can be taken from me in the blink of an eye, and what devastation that would be.
Knowing how much I have means knowing how much I have to lose. I am genuinely afraid that if I let my guard down and revel in my contentment, then bad things will happen. There are days when it is all I can do to force myself to walk out the front door and get in the car because I am absolutely certain that if I do, I will never make it home again. There are days when I sit on the couch with ears straining and heart pounding, waiting to hear the Professor's step on the porch because I am so terrified that he might not come home. What the hell is wrong with my head?
This weekend I was sitting in a sandwich shop, eating dinner with the Professor and thinking about my friends inside the computer. Some of y'all are going through some truly horrific shit right now. I make no bones about it. Some of what you are dealing with in addition to your infertility and/or adoption struggles... I am time and again amazed that you just keep going. And that is what tells me that you will be a great parent when you do get your chance. You do what needs to be done, you find the strength, whatever comes your way. You keep pushing forward because stopping is not an option. You are awe inspiring. I would like to think that if I were faced with the same situations, I would weather them as well. But I honestly don't know. I do know that I need to stop my whining and be a little more mindful of what I have been given. I will try.
I have my own home, a nice car, a good job and (relatively) good health. I have enough income to pay my bills and I do not worry where my next meal will come from. I still have both of my parents. Most importantly in my mind, I have a husband who is my best friend in the whole world, who loves me to distraction whether or not I ever produce his child and without whom life would lose its sparkle.
Yes, I want a baby. No, I may not ever get one. But in this moment, I am focusing on what I do have, because I HAVE SO MUCH. And I want to enjoy it.
There are times when I am confronted with how easy my life is and how good I have it, and I can't help but feel utterly content with my life just as it is. And for some reason, these moments are inevitably followed by a flare of panic. My instinct is to be wary of feeling too happy because, suddenly, there is the certain knowledge that everything I have can be taken from me in the blink of an eye, and what devastation that would be.
Knowing how much I have means knowing how much I have to lose. I am genuinely afraid that if I let my guard down and revel in my contentment, then bad things will happen. There are days when it is all I can do to force myself to walk out the front door and get in the car because I am absolutely certain that if I do, I will never make it home again. There are days when I sit on the couch with ears straining and heart pounding, waiting to hear the Professor's step on the porch because I am so terrified that he might not come home. What the hell is wrong with my head?
This weekend I was sitting in a sandwich shop, eating dinner with the Professor and thinking about my friends inside the computer. Some of y'all are going through some truly horrific shit right now. I make no bones about it. Some of what you are dealing with in addition to your infertility and/or adoption struggles... I am time and again amazed that you just keep going. And that is what tells me that you will be a great parent when you do get your chance. You do what needs to be done, you find the strength, whatever comes your way. You keep pushing forward because stopping is not an option. You are awe inspiring. I would like to think that if I were faced with the same situations, I would weather them as well. But I honestly don't know. I do know that I need to stop my whining and be a little more mindful of what I have been given. I will try.
I have my own home, a nice car, a good job and (relatively) good health. I have enough income to pay my bills and I do not worry where my next meal will come from. I still have both of my parents. Most importantly in my mind, I have a husband who is my best friend in the whole world, who loves me to distraction whether or not I ever produce his child and without whom life would lose its sparkle.
Yes, I want a baby. No, I may not ever get one. But in this moment, I am focusing on what I do have, because I HAVE SO MUCH. And I want to enjoy it.
Monday, June 21, 2010
The Man I Love
The Professor. He basically rocks.
He is so damn smart. Well-educated and well-read, but also just innately clever. He masters concepts and subject matters that make my eyes cross. He teaches me something new every single day, and yet he never makes me feel stupid.
He is funny (hello - Confuterus?). He is a master of the pun, and the double entendre. He has the most delicious sense of the absurd and a refreshing willingness to be silly. Even at my lowest moments, he can always coax a giggle from me. Laughter is so important in our house, and he is a fabulous source of it.
He is hot! I mean smokin'... There isn't a single part of him that I would change. He has a certain natural charisma that draws people to him with no real effort on his part. He gets hit on more often than he likes to admit (always has). I love it that he now has a wedding band to wave around when this happens.
He is kind. To me, to strangers, to children and small animals... he doesn't even kill spiders! All I have to do is call out and he will come trap a bug and escort it outside for release (Except centipedes - they get no quarter around here).
He is my safe place. Wherever he is, there I feel secure. He is protective of me, he takes care of me. He is strong and confident when I am not. It feels like he can solve any problem, but in the rare instance that he cannot, he makes any discomfort or uncertainty bearable.
When I was much younger, I used to pride myself on emotional self-sufficiency. When the Professor first came into my life, I was constantly doing need-checks on our relationship... consciously evaluating how it would affect me if he suddenly vanished from my life, and trying to keep the need-level to a minimum. It's very scary thing to truly open yourself up to incorporating another person into your life on the whole.
Somewhere along the way, I grew up. And now... I cannot imagine a life without him. I still occasionally need-check (old habits die hard) and I know that if he vanished from my life forever, I would never fully recover. And that is freaking terrifying.
Would I trade the relationship I have with him now for emotional protection against the prospect of losing him? Not a chance in hell.
He is so damn smart. Well-educated and well-read, but also just innately clever. He masters concepts and subject matters that make my eyes cross. He teaches me something new every single day, and yet he never makes me feel stupid.
He is funny (hello - Confuterus?). He is a master of the pun, and the double entendre. He has the most delicious sense of the absurd and a refreshing willingness to be silly. Even at my lowest moments, he can always coax a giggle from me. Laughter is so important in our house, and he is a fabulous source of it.
He is hot! I mean smokin'... There isn't a single part of him that I would change. He has a certain natural charisma that draws people to him with no real effort on his part. He gets hit on more often than he likes to admit (always has). I love it that he now has a wedding band to wave around when this happens.
He is kind. To me, to strangers, to children and small animals... he doesn't even kill spiders! All I have to do is call out and he will come trap a bug and escort it outside for release (Except centipedes - they get no quarter around here).
He is my safe place. Wherever he is, there I feel secure. He is protective of me, he takes care of me. He is strong and confident when I am not. It feels like he can solve any problem, but in the rare instance that he cannot, he makes any discomfort or uncertainty bearable.
When I was much younger, I used to pride myself on emotional self-sufficiency. When the Professor first came into my life, I was constantly doing need-checks on our relationship... consciously evaluating how it would affect me if he suddenly vanished from my life, and trying to keep the need-level to a minimum. It's very scary thing to truly open yourself up to incorporating another person into your life on the whole.
Somewhere along the way, I grew up. And now... I cannot imagine a life without him. I still occasionally need-check (old habits die hard) and I know that if he vanished from my life forever, I would never fully recover. And that is freaking terrifying.
Would I trade the relationship I have with him now for emotional protection against the prospect of losing him? Not a chance in hell.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
By All the Saints
Disclaimer: I hope this doesn't totally alienate any of you believers out there. I wanted this to be a place where I can be totally honest about me, but I don't set out to be purposefully offensive.
I am not what most people would call a religious person, or even a particularly spiritual one at that. I was raised Protestant in the Bible Belt, but the Church failed me early on so I left. I decided that while I don't have a problem with God (or spirituality per se), I have very little patience for the people who take their religion as their identity. People are people, whether or not they go to church, and in any group of people there's gonna be nice folks and there's gonna be asshats.
That said, there is something about the rituals of High Church that fascinates me. I'm all for rituals - they elevate the mundane, they impart a sense of peace in their performance. I have sat in on a few Catholic masses and those folks have ritual down! It's like theatre to me, engaging all of the senses. Even without subscribing to the meaning behind it, there is a certain kind of release in letting the flow of sounds and scent just wash over you while you watch the officiant in their finery, repeating moves that are so familiar to them as to be instinctual.
Along with those rituals go a host of accessories (for lack of a better word), and herein lies the point of this post. Saints. I love reading the stories of the saints, their histories, their symbology, their special causes. I figured there had to be an official Patron Saint of Infertility, and I found a bunch! I thought (obviously erroneously) that there wouldn't be more than one saint for any given cause, but there's a whole army of them! So for those who feel like they need a few extra folks on their team, here are a few suggestions:
- Saint Agatha of Sicily - patron saint of the sterile and breast cancer, rape and torture victims and nurses (Agatha's story is gruesome, but interesting)
- St Anne - patron saint against sterility (among many other things), particularly in Taos and Canada (apparently)
- St Casilda of Toledo - patron saint against sterility
- St Felicity of Rome - patron saint against sterility and death of children
- St Gerard - patron saint of motherhood
- St Margaret of Antioch - patron saint of all kinds of reproductive issues
- St Philomena - (not much info on her)
- St Rita of Cascia - patron saint of hopeless causes (gee thanks)
I don't really know how the Catholics do it, but I think you just choose the saint that speaks to you. So after reading the stories of those above, I'm going with Agatha.
Also, if you are saint person or just into religious art, check out the artist who created the image above. His name is Arturo Olivas, and I totally dig his style.
Who is your Patron Saint?
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