I'm not dead. Microblog Monday # 24 - I acknowledge that this post doesn't qualify as micro but it served the purpose of getting me writing for the third week in a row, which is some kind of record around here!

WHAT IS MICRO BLOG MONDAY? 
Check out the link below: 
http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2014/09/what-is-microblog-mondays/

So in my last post I was worrying  in great depth and some brevity  about dying young,  I was surprised to read that many of you believed  that this was an irrational  thought brought on by anxiety. I confess I was a little surprised. Surely all moms think like this - but I guess I am one of the few  moms who lie awake at night ruminating about it accompanied by sweaty palms and the chills.

So I went to the doctor and she told me I probably have gastritis, which can be cured by something like the purple pill. Apparently the pain and tightness in my chest and lungs is caused by the pressure from the swollen esophagus that is pushing on the other organs. Oh, and it's stress induced - I am going to save that one for my boss later.... But just to be sure I ask her to get me a chest x ray. The radiology tech almost forgets to ask me if I am pregnant; I feel it is my duty to remind her. My last menstrual period? Oh about April 2013. Yes, for an IVF cycle. Haven't a period since. Busy breastfeeding. And any way I couldn't be pregnant because 1. I am infertile and 2. I am a lesbian. She still made me sign a form saying I was emphatically NOT pregnant. Ha! Take that!

I asked her to tell me the results but of course she demurred. And that's when I saw the picture of my lungs on the light box above her desk. And there was a dark section at the bottom my right lung  that looked malevolent. I kept staring at it as I dressed and put on my halter monitor that I have been wearing for three weeks because did I mention I have Atrial Tachycardia that was discovered when I was  8 months pregnant and de-hydrated from the stomach flu. Followed by the Influenza type A, followed by the pneumonia.

I am thinking my lungs might be a bit shadowy because of the pneumonia. But, I get in my car and call the doctors office and give strict instructions for them to find out the results ASAP, STAT, IMMEDIATELY, and call me back. It gets to 3pm and no call. I get the answering service. No, they can't page the doctor for test results. I beg the cold hearted bitch to please make an exception. Finally I tell her I am having bad pains  in my chest ( a clever exaggeration which I am sure she sees through) and to please page the doctor. She puts me on hold and then acquiesces. 45 minutes later the doctor's office calls. My chest x ray is normal. The elation, the "I can live again euphoria". I will never be bad again. I will be grateful and present to my life and  all that is in it.  
 and no call. I get the answering service. No, they can't page the doctor for test results. I beg the cold hearted bitch to please make an exception. Finally I tell her I am having bad pains  in my chest ( a clever exaggeration which I am sure she sees through) and to please page the doctor. She puts me on hold and then acquiesces. 45 minutes later the doctor's office calls. My chest x ray is normal. The elation, the "I can live again euphoria". I will never be bad again. I will be grateful and present to my life and  all that is in it.

Microblog Monday #23: Middle of the night fright

http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2014/09/what-is-microblog-mondays/

Since I've had kids I've been terrified of dying. Terrified. As I lay awake this morning between my sweet sleeping boy and girl I became just petrified about it. The kind of fear when your heart pounds, you feel sweaty and nauseous and you almost get swallowed up by the fear.

My chest has been kind of tight  and painful in the nights recently and I need to get it checked out with my doctor who is so far away and hard to get an appointment with that it's easy to put off. In the stillness I convinced myself I had lung cancer from those 16 odd years I smoked, even though I've been smoke free for another 13 more. My kids have been sick and vulnerable and needy recently  and it reminds me how MUCH they need me and how any separation, temporary or permanent, would be devastating. This is what it's like to be a mother: when your biggest worry is about dying and leaving your children behind, even though it happens all over the world every day, to someone. 

Moody Monday

http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2014/09/what-is-microblog-mondays/

Pre school drop off brings out the insecure mother in me. The girl that was never good at gravitating towards groups-that-move-as-one resurfaces. She feels awkward, frumpy and out of sync. Today Isobel's hair was so tangled in the back I found myself apologizing about it to her favorite teacher, Ms. L, who is this adorable diminutive blonde that Izzie is crazy about. I pick my battles,  and tangled hair is one that often stays on the back burner. I often feel I am channeling my own mother, slightly socially awkward, shy, self critical. I wonder how she felt on these occasions. I think I know. 

Happy First Birthday, Harry!

It been a year since I wrote a blog post that I published. Although  I just hit publish on a half finished one from July 2014.  A wonderful rich happy year filled with a child on each arm, two kids draped over me, rough housing on the bed, snuggling at night, playing happily side by side ( for about a minute!) and of Isobel exclaiming from time to time, "I love my family!"

A year of a pretty easy baby who slept for long stretches after about 4 months and still sleeps well in my bed and for two hour stretches in his crib.

Also a really difficult year with lots of health challenges for Susan, her career goals moving at a frustrating snails pace for her. And some health  challenges for me, but most of my / our challenges come from me not making enough money in my job to cover all our necessities, being super stressed out by said job - which has the bonus of being 7 mins from my house - which is so disfunctional and messed up that I can't even tell you.

We didn't have to move,  so for the while we can stay in our high first floor apartment whose steps Susan can only climb while holding on with both hands because of her bum knee - meaning she can't take the kids out by herself when I am at work and I have to run home to help with pre school pick ups / drop offs, etc. Not ideal. Where are all the dwellings with only one or two steps to them? In  Chicago they don't seem  to exist. I never thought I would fantasize about living in a ranch house but the time has come.

To get back to the birthday boy, he just learned to drink out of Isobel's straw bottle today! He sucked a whole lot of water out of it!! 

He crawls really fast and stands with assistance. I think he will be walking in a couple of months if not earlier. He waves bye and says bye at night time and if I'm saying bye on the phone or if someone is leaving. He weighed around 20lb or a bit more and was 29 inches tall at his 10 month check up.  He  has a HUGE head which kind of sticks out prominently at the back and which you can notice in the profile pics below. I worry about the shape and  size of it,  but no one else does including the doctor. Harry thinks the world of his sister Isobel, who is currently having a tantrum because she says it's not his birthday. She thinks he's cute but a nuisance who steals all her toys and gets in her way. He's still drinking all breast milk all the time - from a bottle when I'm at work -  and he has been eating solids ( via baby led weaning) since he was about 6.5 months. We are so lazy about feeding him though. We don't have the incentive to get him off formula and onto solids and cows milk that friends who adopted or aren't breast feeding are excited about. So  he gets meals when we remember / there's something he likes to eat / he doesn't scream when we put him in his high chair, and milk the rest of the time. He's ambivalent about food. Sometimes he loves it and sometimes he throws it straight on the floor!

So those are the highlights of his development. 

Isobel is learning all sorts of things. Big words, like topiary and puncture and how to be responsible and helpful via a sticker chart and lots if positive reinforcement.

Our biggest challenge these days seems to be all getting out if the house in time without killing each other and getting enough healthy food into Isobel, our picky eater, who is learning to enjoy healthy good but not necessarily what I think if as filling food. Say like, you know - a hot meal! 

Now here are some pictures from the last year! Isobel is harder to photograph because she's a fan if total nudity in the house and she's much more self conscious about photos when we can encourage her to out clothes in or we take pictures outside. 

There's even one if Susan and me on a date!!! Winders will never cease!!!

The Chronicles of Isobel and Harry - interrupted to say I HATE BLOGGER. It ate my post twice. my beautiful nuanced post. First on my phone and then on here. Each time I was editing photos. I had saved my writing, and it fucking ate my post and reverted to the original post. Unnuanced. Unedited. Uninteresting.

(interrupted to say I HATE BLOGGER. It ate my post twice. My beautiful nuanced post. First on my phone and then on here. Each time I was editing photos. I had saved my writing, and it fucking ate my post and reverted to the original post. Unnuanced. Unedited. Uninteresting. FUCK! Does this happen on Wordpress? I am never ever going to write a post on Blogger. I will write it in Word first. Or I will do everything in Wordpress.)



Harry Update: ( from April 2014)
It turns out you can blog while holding a slightly cranky baby in one hand, iPhone in the other hand and while using one leg to gently move  the rocking chair. All  thanks to voice to type software. 

It's still laborious because I have to go back and type over what Google voice doesn't translate properly. I don't think Google voice understands English accents that well. in order to get it to type  what I want I have to enunciate like all hell and click out all my  consonants. 

The  long and the short is that Harry is almost 10 weeks old and we are finally getting into our  groove. It's hard to know what to say as all the trouble and strife feels like it's under the bridge so to speak. 

We had a whole ton of help from people in our church and other friends and family. We had  meals delivered,  we had a post partum Doula (paid for by my sister and brother) ;  my sister took care of Isobel for two nights and most of two days  while we were in the hospital for two days and two nights and then Susan took over while I stayed in hospital one more night. There's no way we can complain about being neglected while welcoming Harry into the world.
July 2014
Now I am back to work  ( i went back  on April 21st) and Harry is almost 6 months old. He is just a joyful baby and one who is wonderful to be around. If you wanted to know what it was like to be with the average baby you would not want to come to our house because you could be seriously deluded about how easy it is. He is so so chill, so happy most of the time ( except for gas  on and off for the first twelve weeks) and when he is tired and crabby now, but that's just about learning his cues and feeding him or getting him down for a nap. He is not a very good napper, but he is a terrific night time sleeper.  He cries for me towards the end of the day when he has had enough of the bottle and misses me and he took a long time to get used to the bottle. He can go for 9 hours at a time in his co sleeper / bassinet. He wakes for milk and then he usually goes right back to sleep. I am the luckiest parent alive. I really need that break because other things in our house are decidedly not peaceful or particularly calm - more on that later. 

Even so it has been a difficult transition for all of us but mostly for Isobel. In my ignorance and stupidity and possibly optimism I believed that Isobel would  make concessions for us after Harry arrived. After all,  she had survived two whole nights without us and was becoming more mature and self-sufficient or so I thought. What a pile of crap that was. As most kids ( and adults !) do, she pushed through the hard part  while away from us and then once she was back home she unraveled. I don't remember all the details I just know even now it's hard for her to accept  that I can't do everything I did for her before when she was the only one. 

Right now she is working on at least two big things: one is going to the  "big" potty outside the house while wearing underwear and  not wearing a diaper outside the house - even though as far as I am concerned it would be easier and less risky if she wore one,  she cleverly refuses to wear a diaper away from home,  which means we really have to work on this issue.  this includes her holding her pee for hours, being frightened of "automatic flush toilets" which she can now articulate, as well as loud hand dryers and anything else that is loud or unexpected. Actually, we  seem to have a girl who is  working on  many issues and I blame myself for letting her acquire  these issues in  the first place, because I tell myself I was being lax and lazy in my parenting when really I was just overwhelmed and didn't know any better. So currently we are working on her sweet tooth,  potty training and the wearing of clothes and shoes that are appropriate for the weather.  On deck for next time is her iPad usage.  See I told you I was a terrible parent. 

Introductions!

Here is our new sweet beautiful baby boy, Harry Joseph S-P. Born 1/23/2014 at 10.11pm via c section.
Weight: 7lb 12 Oz, length 20 inches.
Surgery was longer and rougher than expected and involved the unexpected removal of a grapefruit sized fibroid!
Baby boy is named after my beloved father Harry, and Susan's brother, Joseph, who she never met and who died a day or so after his birth. Hope that doesn't sound macabre, but we wanted to honor two men in our lives that had differing but powerful influences on us.

Ready for baby!

I know it's been a long time since I blogged, and there is lots to tell, but right now I am finally here at the end of my pregnancy ( well exactly 39 weeks!) ready for my scheduled c-section.

I had a disturbed night and made sure I got a 4 am snack as instructed by my doctor. Isobel and I got up a bit before 7 am and watched the I-Pad on the couch, while she ate her breakfast, which is our normal routine. No breakfast for me today. She then wanted to play in her room ( with me watching of course) and we got out her toy food so she could prepare lots of lovely meals and a picnic for us. Later there was more snuggling and a little napping on the couch. Isobel was very tender with me and got really close and it was so sweet. We have been telling her the plans for today for a while now and we went over them again. She seemed to be okay with everything.
After the usual showers for the grown ups and chasing her around the house to get dressed, my sister arrived to drive us to the hospital. We got to the hospital at around 10.30 am for the scheduled 1.30pm surgery. I was sad as I kissed Isobel good bye. She was sleepy and sweet, giving me tender kisses on my cheeks and wanting to rub noses and foreheads. She left happily with my sister looking forward to a visit to a coffee shop and a sweet treat. Such a sweetheart.

Once we got to the hospital we checked in and were directed to OB triage, where
all c - sections are prepped. I have been here maybe four times before and know the drill. Each time was for my lack of perceived movement of the baby and all visits turned out well. The last time I was there I was on the other half of the unit, peri natal surveillance, where they put women with high risk pregnancy issues for observation. This was after two hospital stays in quick succession in December that had me in for stomach flu accompanied by dehydration, coupled with a new diagnosis of atrial tachycardia ( rapid heartbeat caused by electrical malfunctioning in your heart - could be due to pregnancy or have been there a while). The next hospital stay came a day later because I developed pneumonia and influenza strain A, which apparently I probably caught while I was in the hospital the first time. Each time I was in the PCCU and they were a little freaked out by me because of the pregnancy. The last night of my stay I got the all clear with my heart and pneumonia and they brought me down here for one more night of baby monitoring. So yes, I've been here before!
So this morning I think they put my IV in around 11.30 am, put me on the baby monitor for what felt like the seven hundredth time and we settled in to wait til the scheduled time. I was feeling a little down and ambivalent about the whole surreal experience of birthing a baby, wondering if I can take care of two kids, hoping I don't get PPD this time around, being anxious about very attached Isobel's needs not being met and me generally being recently crabby with her due to my exhaustion, bloatedness and general discomfort. Around 12 noon we were told that there was an emergency c section in the OR that had bumped us. We had been warned of this of course, but it was still disappointing. Then a midwife came in around 1pm to tell us that my doctor had had some kind of emergency and couldn't do the c section til 9pm tonight. OMG! That's 7 hours away. All I could think was - I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, NOOOOOOO! Having suffered the misery of being starving for hours in the ER here last time I was in it brought it all back to me.
However, nothing much to do but wait. They said we could go home and wait til tomorrow but the same thing could happen again. I'm thinking that I don't want to leave the hospital without my baby. So we stay.
So I hunkered down with FB to update everyone who was waiting for news and lay down to watch a Friends marathon followed by a nap. I've been napping on and off since then.
Poor Susan was sitting in a hard chair for a few hours with her arthritis before the nurse took pity on her and let her rest on the other bed in the room.
Since we got here she has had two awful cafeteria meals and I have had a cup of apple juice to tide over my dropping blood sugar. I think I got the better deal!
So two more hours left until the re -scheduled c section.
That's what the status quo is for now.
I hope to post pics and an update in a few hours or tomorrow.
FX all goes well from now on!

where i have been...( don't read this if you are still waiting for your forever baby)

I wrote this long post telling you all where I had been. Then I pressed the wrong button and it disappeared. I have no more time to myself tonight.
I am in severe doldrums,  called overwhelm and depression.
The baby is fine. He is a boy!We have to move. We are doing a short sale. The bank is foreclosing on us. We have little help or support. I am so fed up of working hard and being broke.
I will update more soon when I get time.
I am sooo bummed I lost the post. I gave it everything. ugh.
Please send nice thoughts our way.
Isobel is doing great,
xo

a movie you won't want to miss...

my trying to be creative pregnancy announcement...courtesy of my clever wife.

I won't tell you about the scary as all eff maternal fetal medicine appointment we had today where we discussed all my risk factors and past history. On the more optimistic side, we did see a very cute baby  via ultrasound, with her / his hands up by his / her face and two fingers very visibly giving the peace sign. 

Graduating from the RE

Yes, I have become a newsy poster, as is most people's wont when they are in a cycle or pregnant. I have to say I feel a bit sheepish about it, but it is a good way to record our little family history so here I go.

We saw our baby last week at the baby factory and she / he had a heart beat of 180 beats per minute and her ( ok for expediancy I will go with her until we know otherwise) head and body were visible. Susan swore she saw an arm waving around too. According to the ultrasound tech and the doctor everything looks fabulous. I have a tiny hematoma ( not the correct medical term)  - last time I had a large one accompanied by bleeding - but this time no bleeding or cramping. All looks good. He mentioned in passing that we still have a few ( three, I think) very good looking embryos left and I shuddered. Let's get this pregnancy nice and cooked first and then we can look back and say no more. Even with those beautiful embryos, we know there are no more babies on our horizon apart from this one. Of course we will probably keep the embryos until the baby is born and then decide what to do. They cannot be donated to anyone else because the egg donor  prohibited it, and I understand that is the best thing to do with anonymous donors but it does feel like a waste especially when they are so good and Isobel is a pretty darn sweet kiddo. So we believe the others would be too. So the options are medical science or disposal. I am pretty sure we will donate them to science.
But I digress.

Don't I sound optimistic about this pregnancy? I am reasonably calm about it and trying hard to believe that all will be well. In fact the only thing I am stressed about now, is my usual bugbear, work. And I was similarly stressed when Isobel was in utero. I can't do that again. I am going to look into a mindfulness group that my doc told me about. I need to learn to switch off my monkey mind and my endless ruminating. It is so bad for me and such a waste of energy.

So yeah, we graduated the baby factory amidst hugs and promises to send photos and are now under the regular every Wednesday morning care of Mr Ob. Yes a man OBGYN.

Two weeks ago I went to see said new OBGYN to review the medical records of my last pregnancy and to hear from him what he thought about what happened, especially at the end when I had to have the C section because Isobel was not moving properly. He reviewed it and he reminded me that there had been meconium in the amniotic fluid when Isobel was pulled out of my uterus ( which he said was very unusual at that stage) and that the chord was wrapped around her neck four times ( which he also said was very unusual). I wept in his office. I was overcome by the feelings  and the thoughts of what could so easily have happened to her if I had not paid attention to my instincts about her  lack of movement in  utero. If I had not called the midwife and gone to the hospital when I did. If I had waited another day.  No one can say why she was in distress, or what happened to cause it. She got a 7 and then a 9 on the Apgar - something that I had never heard at the hospital and apparently was fine and healthy  ( if tiny at 5 lbs and 13 ounces). The fact that I was offered the opportunity to labor ( even though I was not dilated or effaced) really upsets me too. I believe that labor would not have progressed and would have put her in grave danger. Not doing anything - and ignoring my instincts - would have also put her in more grave danger. The only thing to do was a C -section. Which I agreed to in a nano second. I really believed that once the baby was in my uterus, cooking away at 30 something weeks, nothing could go wrong, it was just a case of waiting it out. I had a doppler, so I would listen to her heartbeat and I knew she was alive. Of course I couldn't detect the ebbs and flows of her movements and her heartbeat with a doppler. And when I couldn't feel her movement much  throughout the pregnancy - and I had been asked throughout my pregnancy if I could feel her and I said, not much - no-one really said anything about it.  (I had non stress tests weekly towards the end and passed them all with flying colors. Though again, no one really explained what they were lookng for in these tests. I feel I may have pushed the button sometimes when I did not feel a movement, although I now know that they don't really pay attention to those button pushes.) Or it was chalked up to the placing of my placenta. I was clueless really. But trusting. I think I trusted too much.  I wanted to believe in the miracle of "natural" childbirth. Because everyone was telling me I should. But I couldn't. And I think that in my case I was right.

So my new OBGYN knows all my history, he is well versed in high risk pregnancy ( if mine should be that way - he says that every pregnancy is different and I am holding onto that thought) and he is willing to monitor me very regularly.  He listens. He takes time. He has many satisfied customers, including my own GP. I will have a scheduled C section. I still have a large fibroid that sits right by the birth canal, I have had one C section, a myomectomy and I have no desire whatsoever to have a VBAC.

Nine weeks and four days, folks! Amazing.

PS Did I tell you that my last progesterone reading was 29? that's pretty darn good for me, folks!

I owe you all an update!

All is well in the pregnancy department. We saw the heart beat at the first ultrasound which showed a tiny flickering line over a cheerio shaped blob. The second ultrasound showed the heart beat at 145 beats per minute and  clearly showed the fetal pole and yolk sac and a kind of blob that is the baby. Everyone exclaimed that it was beautiful. My progesterone has been a little bit of  a roller coaster but the last reading on Friday so I was relieved and happy.

I have been religiously taking all my meds and getting shot in the posterior every night by my lovely devoted wife. I have managed to pretty much keep it a secret to the general public in my life although I did let it slip to two "work friends" in the last few days.

My next ultrasound ( and last fertility clinic appointment) and meeting with my doctor is next Monday. I have barely seen him - in fact I think I have seen him twice - once for a consultation and once for a saline sonogram. 

The person who has kept me going through this whole conveyor belt of excellent science and near perfect embryology is the nurse who worked with my previous doctor who retired. She is not really anything to do with my care anymore, as I am managed by a so called "IVF team" but I ask for her every time I am there and she meets with me in semi secret and looks at my charts and results and cheers me on. She came trotting down the hall looking for me on the afternoon of our first ultrasound took me off to draw my blood ( in a perfect in and out, no problems like I usually get with my shy veins)  and gave us big hugs and smiles when we found out the results.

I am going to miss her and one of the other nurses who is also an old timer and incredibly kind and sweet. But I won't miss anyone else.

Symptom wise I am feeling ok. No morning sickness, extreme dry mouth, slight nausea, sense of nervousness and hyper-ness now and then and  heightened emotions. The heightened emotions are a problem because work is incredibly stressful and I feel angry and disgusted a lot of the time. It is never the actual work or the clients, it is always the politics, the petty unprofessional staff and the lack of accountability that hurts the people we serve and makes the services they receive a kind of Russian roulette. You can get really good service or you can be devastated. It's a crap- shoot. And based on who you get to “serve” you.

But that’s another story for another day.

For now I am still pregnant and very grateful. Thanks for all your support and cheers along the way.

PS Isobel is thriving and super cute and funny. I will do a post about her really soon I promise!

200th post: 5 weeks and one day pregnant

It's a big number post milestone for me in more ways than one.  I am 22 days past 5 day FET. My first BETA was 285,  progesterone was  18.8. Second BETA  was 1185, Progesterone was 16. Commence major freak-out at dropping progesterone levels, which resulted in adding another PIO to the protocol for a total of 1cc PIO every day as opposed to every other day and another blood level check today. Third BETA was today 2600  and Progesterone went up to 20 ( to prove my point that I needed extra support). My EDD is January 29th, 2014.

Big huge  thanks to Itiswhatitis(orisit) for technical and emotional support through the crazy rollercoaster of HCG and progesterone tests. Honestly I would have been a basket case ( okay I was anyway) without Dr. It Is What it Is ( or is it?). Thanks, friend!

This is a strange pregnancy so far. Despite freak outs, I do feel calmer. I do feel able to plan a little bit ahead and not worry that this pregnancy is not going to last or bad things will happen. I still know that anything can happen but I feel a little more laid back about it. I don't feel so fragile. I am still lifting Isobel ( 25lbs) -  but not as much as I was. What can a mama do? I went to the gym yesterday and worked out on the eliptical - something I would never have done last time.   Today I went to the garden center and got plants and bags of mulch for the garden and spent much of the morning gardening. I sit down when I get tired and I am definitely not overdoing it. My big symptoms are mild indigestion,  thirst and dry mouth ( could be the meds) tiredness and raging hunger - especially at night. I am still snoring - never stopped after my last pregnancy and since I am even fatter than I was then it's not going away anytime soon. I started drooling while I sleep. Fun! And I am determined not to sit on the couch for the next 8 or so months, like I did last time.

I was at the clinic today sitting in the sterile waiting  room with a bunch of other patients all staring at our smart phones, when a couple walked by who looked shell  shocked. The woman was crying but trying not to and the man looked sad. She had to check out and it only took about 15 seconds for her to do that and walk through the waiting room and I thought it must have felt like an eternity for her. No one else seemed to notice. My heart was in my throat. It followed them out the door. I wanted to reach out and envelop them in a  big psychic hug. Then I wanted to tell her that she could use donor eggs or donor sperm and it would WORK! It did for me! I know there are all sorts of heartbreaks in the infertility world, and the need for donors is not the only one, and there is all kinds of loss too. I imagined that they had not seen a heartbeat when she needed one, or  they had met with the doctor and he had told them they were screwed, or she had had her sixth miscarriage. I know that the first time I prepared to receive donor eggs I felt so relieved not to have to worry about my old and washed up eggs  and that all I had to do was to focus on my uterus ( that was pressure enough). And I mentioned to one of the nurses that it felt so good to be in this position and she told me that she wished more people would do what I was doing. And not just keep going through the pain and misery in the hopes of a bio child. But that was an easy decision for me. And it's not for everyone. I know that. I know that my answer isn 't everyone's answer. I am just really really grateful that it is mine.

So that is my 200th post. Not deep, mostly the facts ma'am. And a short musing on the gratefulness quotient that is verging towards infinity. And holding all my sisters in waiting rooms everywhere, and those who are doing that sad walk out the door in my hopes and dreams too.

Yes + ( with Update)

That's what the pee stick said! I haven't used one of these ones before and even though I read the instructions I was a bit perplexed it didn't say either "pregnant" or "not pregnant", but I got the idea pretty quickly and started yelling from the bathroom and laughing and doing a little jig. I was holding the fancy plastic digital test stick ( with cap on) and Isobel wanted to come into the bathroom when she heard the commotion so she grabbed it off me and was dancing around laughing and cackling and looking gleeful. For a minute I thought the genius had heard me say "I'm pregnant!" and understood. But pretty soon she said, "what is it?" Ha!

I was pretty convinced it was no. Apart from a few things. Emotional breakdown last night over Susan sitting in her usual arm chair with her usual computer doing her usual work while I tried to talk to her. Almost getting into a car crash today ( distracted and scattered). Feeling twinges in my uterus a couple of days after transfer. Having two lunches today: a healthy one and one that consisted of pancakes and fried eggs. That sort of thing.

So how do I feel and what's on my mind? I am cautiously optimistic. Hoping for a good Beta tomorrow. Praying this pregnancy lasts a long time and provides a live baby. Wishing for a smooth pregnancy. Feeling energized. Making plans. All those  sorts of things. And as I said to a buddy tonight on chat, enjoying the telling of the news. Because though it's a secret in the wider world, there are many in my smaller circle that know and cheer me on, even when I don't feel optimistic ( like the whole TWW!)

I will update tomorrow, hopefully with a nice number:)

BETA is 285
Progesterone is 18.8
Feeling good!
next BETA is Tuesday ( because of the holiday!)

Great expectations...

Today was the day. Embryo transfer day. Susan, who is a fledgling minister had a gig doing   a graveside service which she could ( obviously) not re-schedule, so I was on my own. Yes, it was a circle of life day. We should have got civil unionized just to top things off really.

The part that I was most looking forward to, apart from the idea of bringing new life into my barren womb, was the lying down part.  That's from being a mom and never having enough time to just relax. (Once when I was driving past a cemetery I thought to myself, wow, that must be really relaxing to be in there. I know. Bad. I think it was before I had Isobel but I can't be certain. Yes, I know two kids are way more tiring than one ).You know, the hanging on the treatment table / couch   before and after the transfer, and  the part when you get to go home and lie in bed. With a valium which they prescribe for you. One pill. It cost me about $1.40 with insurance. Except I had no one to drive me so I wasn't taking the valium until I got home. To Isobel who was lively and needing lots of activity. I finally coaxed her into bed with me for a nap around 3pm and we slept for about 1.5hrs. It wasn't enough but it wasn't bad.

The transfer went very quickly. I had just settled myself in the waiting room, even plugged in my phone charger and was meaning to post on here and my secret FB groups and they called my name. I was scheduled for 1.15 pm with a 12.15 arrival. They called me at 12.15pm and I think I was out of there before 1.15pm. I had been kind of blase about drinking enough water because I thought I had time so my bladder was not very full but it didn't seem to matter very much. The perky embryologist came in and told me that the first embryo they froze survived and I asked if it was hatching ( they don't give you much information really) and she said yes. She said it was 2AA quality which is the same it was when it was frozen, which means good.

The doctor who did my first fresh SET  in 2009 was doing the transfer today and was friendly and professional. The ultra sound tech was the same as for my other two transfers. She is so frikking chirpy and romantic about the whole thing. It's like being in the Sound of Music when she is around. She calls it the "homecoming" when the embryo settles into the the cavity surrounded by the endometrium. She burbled on about second babies and how SFETs are the thing now and that it's easier to get pregnant when you have done it before. She was excited to hear about Isobel. She said she hoped I had a nice scheduled c section for the birth....It was cute, but also a little irritating. She pointed out that the  endometrium was bright on the screen which means that it is nice and soft and receptive for the embryo. I got to see the embryo on a screen before they inserted it into the catheter. It looked nice. I am not an expert so I can't say more than that. The doctor thought she was going to have a hard time getting past the bend in my cervix ? uterus ? but it went smoothly. I think they were all very  pleased with how it went. I got to see the burst of light as the embryo came out of the catheter and have a picture to take home of that moment. We don't get to keep photos of the embryos. I was looking it and thinking, "this tiny tiny little thing could be a sibling for Isobel." Amazing and miraculous.

So yes, they said take a few minutes, get dressed and you can be on your way. No lying around for me. One of the two people left at the clinic that I like is my old doctor's nurse. She is one of the few of the  remaining old guard ( she was the first nurse that the IVF program hired in 1988) while many  of the rest of the staff seem slightly disinterested baby factory types.  I think that it's the result of the company going very corporate. Anyway, Nurse D has kept up with my progress and came in to see me and to wish me luck. Very sweet. That clinic has phenomenal success rates and embryology but is seriously lacking in bedside manner. You never meet the IVF nurses who do your schedule and call you with updates. But I have Nurse D so I don't really care.

So my beta is on Friday May 24th and I will POAS the night before. That' s how it was the only other two times I got to this point with IVF, so that's how it's going to be this time.

Seriously hoping for a BFP!

Deciding

Firstly thank you all so much for your incredibly helpful, honest, true and compassionate comments. I just want to clarify - I completely know that this is our decision and ours alone, but I really thrive on hearing others opinions and experiences and your words helped me to have a dialogue with myself and my partner in making this decision. It's kind of like when I used to write papers. I liked to read many opinions, weigh them, cogitate, ruminate and then the way forward would emerge for me and I would be able to write the paper and be clear about what I was arguing and how I saw a dominant  theme emerging for me.  So, even though I was asking for help, it was help in the discussion, in the rumination and the unconscious churning, not help making the actual decision. Just in case you think I am a complete nincompoop.  Thank you!

I think most of you are right in what you said. And I did freak out completely about what to do when I had made what I believed was a final decision. In the end  it all did  boil down to regrets, and not knowing and not trying and wanting to do everything I could to keep going in the search for our family picture. So we decided to go ahead.

The caveats and the cautions for those ( including myself and my family)  who have concerns about my health and Susan's are: I am going to go to see a high risk OBGYN in the next couple of weeks and show him all my records from my previous pregnancy and get his opinion. This doctor was suggested by my PCP when I told her of my desire for a high intervention, extremely not naturally focused OBGYN. I have written about this before so I am not going to go into details, but I need that kind of doctor. And she says she knows one who is just the ticket. He does not go by the book, but he knows each patient as an individual and listens to what they say(!) I know I know.  What a concept! But last time I really felt that the risks were not taken seriously by my providers and I honestly felt overlooked until I was in the L and D department  with reduced fetal movement and a c section looming.

Our other promise is to really work on our diet and exercise in the next few months and try to be stronger and healthier for if and when another baby comes ( and for the pregnancy). You all know that this is a really tall order and one of the biggest things many of us struggle with in life. We are not naturals when it comes to cooking, we don't post on Facebook about our three course gourmet meals and naturally sourced ingredients.  We do eat organic when it comes to the dirty dozen and as much as we can afford, which is something that we started to do more of when Isobel started eating solid foods. But  probably the most exciting thing I have made recently is blueberry muffins, which I made tonight   at the behest of Isobel ( and with her help). I learned to bake as a kid who didn't have a tv but who had a mom who was fair to middling at baking. My mom was an earnestly healthy but rather uninterested cook and i am more of the vaguely healthy and extremely uninterested ilk.  We will see. And we are trying.

So I am taking BCPs  ( I took my last one tonight) and started Lupron on Saturday. The transfer is tentatively scheduled for May 10th, the Friday of Mother's Day weekend. Gulp. It seems I might be back in that coveted place of updating you all on the excruciatingly minute details of my FET cycle. Gratefully so.

So thank you. I will keep you all posted. I know how lucky I am even to be in this place. Fair, fat and forty something even though I am.

In which very big decisions are pondered...

Warning - do not read this if you are in the trenches of infertility or loss and are still waiting for  a live take home baby.

 
I have been planning to have another baby since Isobel was born. I did everything I could to enjoy her precious and beautiful smallness,  even as a clueless first time mother who did not grow up around babies, knowing that life is short and that there were no guarantees of another baby in my future. Even before I knew who she was, I  pictured siblings.  And once I met her and experienced her happy go lucky personality and her inner and outer beauty, I pictured her with a brother or a sister, so  similar but  also different to her.  I saw them giggling together, playing side by side, arguing and fighting and snuggling and finding their own way and their own passions. I have seen my sister's girls grow up side by side and that has always inspired me to want this for myself. When I was first pregnant with Isobel we freaked out when we  found out we were having twins,  which as everyone always says, is an instant family, but that fear and euphoria only lasted a week  until the second embryo's very slow heartbeat petered out.

We have had challenges from day one. Not even taking into account the years of waiting and wondering and treatment, and donor eggs and donor sperm that we went through to get to Isobel, it has been a bumpy ride.  A hard and stress filled pregnancy, bleeding, a huge fibroid, pre eclampsia, post partum depression, unemployment, parents dying, dogs dying.  But after I survived  and mostly thrived through the first year of motherhood I was ready to start looking for a job that would pay the bills and then some and would provide insurance for us to do a frozen embryo cycle to make our sibling plans come alive.

Susan and I  have both come late in life to facing our longings head on and going for it despite the odds and difficulties. NOT doing was too painful. Susan wanted desperately to complete an MDiv. and work in the ministry of a church that was liberal enough to embrace her queerness and allow her to serve in a full ministerial capacity despite the fact, or because of the fact she is a woman. This was something that had been in the works for over twenty years, and which had for many reasons, but mostly financial, been put on hold.  I was equally set on  fulfilling my desire to become a mother. The delay of that also had a lot to do with money ( sperm is expensive and so is insemination and it was all so unknown and I dealt with a sizeable amount of ambivalence).  We were also busy with long distance family obligations and it wasn't till 2007 that we finally thought we might be ready to have a baby. And that's when we started in earnest.

Fast forward to the wonderful birth of Isobel and our circumstances were these: Susan was still finishing school  and had been laid off from her job  of 24 years when Isobel was 6 months old, so we were living off her 401k, student loads and money that my recently dead parents had left me. I had always wanted to stay home with my baby and this combination of resources made it possible. We had a wonderful time staying home together for the second six months of Isobel's life.   So there I was in the summer of 2011 looking to embark on the second part of our family planning. Baby number two. I was still breast-feeding and I did not have an exact time line but I knew that first I would find a job and we would take it from there. I landed a part time on call job doing psych evals in the ER and I actually liked many aspects of it ( apart from managed care and the horrific mental health system which I won't get into). I got to connect with patients in their darkest hours and lend them my ears and my heart and give them a little hope sometimes.  I was hoping it would lead to a full time gig that would support my little family and move us along to the next part of my goal, courtesy of insurance and five gorgeous frozen embryos from our one live cycle with the wonderful egg donor.

The job did not lead to anything apart from sleepless nights for all of us. Isobel missed me while I was gone in the nights and Susan's  physical health issues that made it really hard for her to coax Isobel into and to stay in her crib. They often were sleeping in the armchair together when I got home at  2 , 3, 4,5 or 6 in the morning and the lack of sleep and physical pain was making it unbearable for Susan. I wasn't exactly myself either working these odd unpredictable hours. Great for someone with no obligations and hours to sleep in but not so much for a mostly attachment, avidly breastfeeding parent and her spouse. After three months training and three on call I had to reluctantly call it quits. A  couple of months later  I got a director of social services job in the not for profit field I had worked in previously.  I knew in the interview that it was probably going to be a disaster, but I needed work, and I thought I could manage it. It was good pay and benefits ( as not for profits go), near my house, flexible,  and I thought that I could return to that type of work, even though it had burnt me out the last time.

Fast forward 10 months - unbelievable - and I am not the person I was when Isobel was born. I am tired, crabby, even fatter than before I got pregnant the first time, lethargic, angry and just plain unhappy. I have a hard time handling Isobel's new found independence and strong will. With weaning comes less endless snuggle time in the mornings and early risings. I get impatient. I am the one asking Susan what to do about various behavior issues, whereas before I thought I was in charge.  But I am still determined, really determined to keep going, no matter what. My actual job is not exactly difficult, it is a managerial one that demands good clinical judgment, great supervisory skills and organization. I can manage all of that. But the environment is absolutely toxic. I had angst during my last job, before I got pregant, serious serious angst. Much of it was about my supervisors. Having worked at an agency for nine years previously that was rich  with mostly sane and often down right inspirational supervisors I have never again had that experience. Right now I have a supervisor who does not show up for work much. And does not really lead. But more than that I have a co worker who is a toxic bully and whose whole department seems to work to make my department look bad. It eats away at me.  Despite all this I have managed to wean Isobel, have all the tests I need to prepare for an FET, including a mammogram, and CHANGED  MY ANTI-DEPRESSANT  over a four week period to something my new psychiatrist was more comfortable with me taking while pregnant. Also we  got our condo ready for a short sale, which involved a huge amount of paperwork, it went on the market a few weeks ago  and we have a buyer. So all being well, we are moving in about two months. And our credit is probably going to be ruined.  And we will be paying the same in rent that we paid in mortgage because rents are so high but we have no credit to buy a place and we are not sure where to go based on Susan's job search. But because of our physical and mental and financial hardship  ( including my depression which is really affected by the lack of light in our "garden" apartment), we are able to do a short sale and get out of this underwater, small  and rather damp apartment. So yes a lot of shit is going on and I have ploughed on, being crabby and mean to Susan and trying hard to be nicer to Isobel but not always succeeding. Because that is what I do. I plough on. I am known for my determination and not giving up.

We have so many unknowns in doing this  upcoming FET. Many of them are not anything to do with infertility issues or pregnancy.  When we had Isobel we didn't really know how we would manage, how we would survive financially, when I would have to go back to work, but somehow our leap of faith payed off.  Susan was still working when Isobel was born, she was able to take off 3 months unpaid with FMLA. She went back to work for three horrendous months and then was laid off in a very uncool way. But she got severance and we survived ok. This time it feels like we are not leaping a few faithful feet, but that we are hurling ourselves down  a cliff in the Grand Canyon and praying that we will survive the fall. Ironically enough I have all the tools I need to get pregnant ( knowing that there are no guarantees of course). Star embryos, a birth controlled uterus with a thin progesterone induced lining,  insurance to cover everything except 10% of the hospital costs ( which is the worse part of it  ) a history of being able to get pregnant. But we have no child care plan. I make too much money to afford any kind of financial assistance for childcare. Susan is not physically able to take care of two kids because of her health issues. I would like to stay home ( even though it would be a big challenge of course) but because I am 17 years into my "chosen" field I can make more money than Susan in her new career.  And as someone who waited 24 years in the wilderness of an often meaningless career, she is dying to get out into the world of her new ministry / social justice, chaplaincy career. She feels her vocation so strongly and while she is  a fantastic mother and care-giver to Isobel, she needs to be out in the world as well, fulfilling her vocation.  At the age of 55 she feels her future slipping away and she is down about the prospect of not being able to fulfill her dreams. Our  childcare solution that we had half-heartedly convinced ourselves  we may be able to  do was that I would work three or four days a week, Susan would work about two days and we  would  juggle the child-care and maybe pay for a day or two in daycare. We have no clue if Susan can get a job in the very competitive field she is moving into and she has many strikes against her: older, female, lesbian,  to name a few. Her metabolic health issues that mean that she needs to take care of her diet, get a lot of exercise and get a lot of rest. Which as you all know, are difficult to achieve with one baby, let alone two.

When we had Isobel I had this fantasy that we would find our tribe and that all the people who were so thrilled that we had a baby would be part of our newly formed "family".  I know that was awfully naive. It did not happen like that at all. As she got older people lost interest after a couple of visits. I eventually realized that it's more important  to have a few people that are well known to her and that we can all rely on rather than an endless stream of visitors.  We have some lovely lovely people who care about Isobel. But they are all busy busy busy. As are we. I expect people might think that it's selfish of me to think that there would be people who would give up their schedules to help us, but I did. Our church family loves her and finds her to be cute and funny and smart, but they go home to their families after church. We have a very small family and a very small number of people we can rely on. Mostly we have to pay people to help us with child care. Even though there are grandmotherly types at church, they all have their own grandchildren. We long to see grandma Margaret, who is a wonderful grandma and sometimes grandpa too, but she is in Canada which is a long train ride or a short expensive plane ride away( we hate flying). So we and mostly I, feel bereft in this department. We have our baby mamas that we see on the weekdays and do stuff with. And I definitely cultivated that group and feel that we are to some extent like family. But on the weekends they go off and do their thing with their families. Isobel's number one fan outside of our little trio is my sister. They absolutely adore each other. But she is busy too. And my nieces have lives of their own and don't really have the inclination to just come and hang out with Isobel. My brother and his wife and their son, who also adore Isobel live 3,000 miles in England and we don't see them very often. They have never visited here, and they don't intend to. They are eco people who are fanatically against flying. They won't even do it for family.

So the night before last,  my sister told me that she was really worried about my physical and mental health should I get pregnant again. She had seen me a couple of weeks ago being tired and depressed and had wondered how I would put myself through a very risky pregnancy (sic) and put myself and my family through the trials and tribulations and unknowns of all this, when what we have is pretty damn good and we don't know how things would turn out. We could end up with a disabled child, a preemie, etc etc.

As I got up on Friday morning, I told Susan what I had decided, and felt like a weight had been  lifted from my proverbial shoulders. I went about my business getting ready for work and when I got there I wrote my sister a text explaining that we had decided not to do it:

"I am not sure what happened but something tipped the balance for me. The only reason apart from obvious selfish ones of nurturing and being close to a baby, was providing a sibling for Isobel and expanding our little  family. Even though  that is a huge reason and one we both want very much for her, we can't do it. For many reasons that we wanted to overcome. Money could provide  for some of the gaps, or a big support system but we don't have either. We  are going to focus on Isobel and on trying to fulfill all of our dreams and not being stuck in a miserable job just so I can stay employed and pregnant and help Susan to get her career going. Just when things are getting a bit easier with mobility and Isobel's independence it would be really hard to have another baby and also for my health. I know many people who have struggled long and hard against many odds to have a first or second child but it seems the odds are too great for us to have a second one. You will have to make sure we don't spoil her. I  am mourning a dream. It is a huge loss. But even though you might see me as vulnerable I feel I have beaten the odds so many times and persevered when things were hard. But I realized the toll is too great on all of our lives. I think we can all be happier and healthier if we focus on what we have and listen to what our hearts and minds are telling us. Anyway, this is quite long enough. Thanks and see you soon. Xoxo. " 


I felt relieved. I started thinking about all the things Isobel could have if she was an only child. Our undivided attention. Music lessons. Soccer or some other sport. We would have to make sure she had friends who were close to her that she could hang out with. (And with our track record that was another reason to have a sibling - an instant playmate - albeit 3. 5 years older). We could get rid of all our baby stuff in storage that we had been hanging onto and it would help us to downsize our storage. I could sell my cloth diapers. I could get a more fulfilling, maybe lower paying or even part time job eventually because we would not have to pay for childcare for two kids for 5 or more years. Susan could find something extremely fulfilling. We would have time, if not money.

Then  I started to cry. Thankfully I was in my small office with hardly any co-workers. I confided in one of my co workers and she was very sweet and gave me a big hug and we went and got coffee and talked. I cried on and off all day. I cried at the huge loss of my huge dream. I cried at all the face book posts about second or third siblings. I wanted so much to get on the baby bandwagon like so many of my FB and blog friends ( and my IRL baby mamas too) and get pregnant, have another baby and begin the rest of our lives with our perfect family. I wanted to post updates, and talk about my BCPs and the schedule and how we were excited etc etc. My clinic nurse had been so encouraging to me and had really boosted me up as I returned there again after so much time had elapsed, and I had really got the baby fever bad. I felt that all the misery at work would be worthwhile if I could just have that second baby. I even had fantasies about how wonderful pregnancy could be again ( not true, TGal, not in my experience ) and how it would all be roses, or maybe a few roses. (Again, not true, if I look at the list of symptoms I had that I put in my note sections on my I phone as I waited at the doctor's office for my appointments last time. I will pull that out one of these days for the really curious. It's bad. ) In thinking about being pregnant, I hadworried about my ever swelling feet and ankles, and the leaky urine issues, and the weird anxious feelings I had last time, but I convinced myself I would know better this time, and I always have Isobel. Except what if something happens to her. Then we won't have any children and that would be unbearable. I was worried that I would have pre eclampsia again and be tied to the bed for two days till I had to fart so bad it was making me crazy, taking magnesium and not being allowed to be alone with my baby. I asked my sister a few weeks ago if she would take care of Isobel when the baby was born and she said of course she would. But I did have to ask her.
I took my BCPs on Friday night and I will be taking them tonight. I have not really decided.  We have not decided or had chance to talk about it. I have been googling childcare and trying to figure out how we could make it work.  I make too much money for state sponsored child care but once our rent is paid ( or our mortgage) I only have the same amount left to pay all the bills and eat.  My clients have anywhere from 1 - 9 children and we provide them with housing and social services for basically no cost, because they have disabilities ( mental and physical). They don't have to worry about childcare but they don't have the resources or education or privilege that I have, so I can't really begrudge them what I want.  And they struggle so hard with their childrens' issues.

Isobel has had the stomach flu last night, and while she was throwing up all over me and clinging to me, I was thinking how much harder it would be with two sick little ones in the house. When I was pregnant and before, I would wake up in the night and feel sick and wonder how I would do it when I had a baby, and it all just worked out. It's not like I have a choice. And I want to comfort my baby.

So here I sit, with a girl who is on the mend and who wants more of my attention after I have taken the first time away from her since she got sick. A wonderful wonderful girl. A wonderful wife. And I really don't know what to do.

Please help.

Honoring Caemon

Caemon, even though I never met you and I only know your moms Timaree and Jodi 
slightly through the vastness of blog land, I also know you through the intimacy of a smaller group of bloggers that I have been on the periphery of for some time. So even though we don't know each other, I feel compelled to post about you and put up this candle placeholder from An offering of love.
Like so many others, I will miss your sweet smile and joyful spirit. I miss the life that you could have had, but that was taken from you by cancer. I am so sorry that you had to go so soon and leave your dear moms,  and all the hundreds of loving followers you have. You fought so hard. Your moms fought so hard. You are a valiant little guy and I love you and miss you too.
In honor of you, Caemon, I am participating ( a little late) in the week  / or weeks of blog silence. Life does not go on. Life stops for a while. We pause for Caemon. We take deep breaths and say prayers and wonder at this huge loss that we have all suffered.
Sweet dreams, Caemon. Fly Free.
Stop by and send your moms a message of love and reassurance while they grieve so hard.
With love,
Tireegalxo

International Blog Delurking Week - Jan 6- 13, 2013

 

Thanks to Melissa from Stirrup Queens for inventing yet another blogging tradition and inviting us all to tag along.  It is fairly easy.  In the words of the blogstress herself:

"Leave a comment in the comment section below admitting that you’re here. You can simply raise your hand and meekly admit that you’re here with a simple, one-word “here” comment; or you can proudly raise your hand and tell us all a bit about yourself 

So this is it, you are up, peoples!

Okay, Cary, North Carolina, who are you?  I think I get more hits from this particular place than any other. I am intrigued. And all you readers from California and New York, who are you? And not forgetting my Canadian, Australian and other continented friends too.

Please let me know, I am interested and I would love to know who you are.

Thank you for reading and ( hopefully ) commenting. I am going to look like a real chump if no one responds but I am willing to put myself out there for the greater cause - the one that is "International Blog Delurking Week 2013". 

 

on family and friends...

I went out the other night with a small group of ex coworkers from my old job. Many of them have since left as the agency is in  a big ugly downward spiral and is topped with an abusive and conniving CEO. But I digress. Things got really bad in that workplace after I left to have my mini breakdown before Isobel came into the world and  the others in the group got closer because of banding together to cower before a common enemy and in many cases to bolster each other in the face of Really Bad Things Happening.  So they share a special bond that I am not really part of but I think they still value me and appreciate my friendship. This was to be our Christmas get together and love fest complete with Yankee swap ( which I learned is Not a white elephant!)

(This isn't a post about the horrible murders in Connecticut, just in case you thought I was going there, but I am thinking of them and holding those poor parents and their children in my heart.)

Originally there was going to be about 10 of us, but on the day of we got an email from one woman saying that she couldn't come because some random relative of her husbands was coming into town and she had to hang out with them. I don't remember the details, and I can't find the email, but I was like - oh, okay. And then another woman sent a message via the group ringleader that she couldn't come because she had some family event that she had forgotten, or had got rearranged, or something and she had to go to that. And she sent us lots of love - as did the first one. Another one couldn't come because she had had such a soul destroying day at the above workplace and just needed to be home - and had then heard about the Connecticut killings and that had finished her off for the day. So three out of an original 9 plus two others that couldn't come from the beginning.

And I stopped and thought, what is it about family that makes people leave their friends high and dry? I mean, I am rarely one of those people who cancel because I have something better to do with my family. Because I have hardly any family here. I have my sister. My nieces. And some ex in laws that I love dearly but are not part of the fabric of my everyday life. And Susan and Isobel. My brother and his partner and son are  in England and they have sworn off air travel so they have never visited us here. We visit them approximately once every couple of years. This year and next year are going to be off years. My parents are dead. Susan's mom lives in a nursing home in Kansas City and her sister lives in that city too. We don't have lots of people to do stuff with on holidays -whether that's Labor Day or Christmas Day. And people invariably gravitate towards their family, fucked up or not, on the holidays. We are spending Christmas Day with my sister and part of it with her kids and then traveling to see Susan's mom and sister in Kansas City the next day. So yes, we are like everyone else. We have a nice church "family" but they all go off and do their various family things too. One Thanksgiving a friend from church invited us to her non family Thanksgiving and we went, which really upset my sister. She couldn't understand why we didn't want to be with her. We just wanted  a change. Apparently it doesn't work like that. So that was our act of anti family rebellion which didn't go down so well.

But what makes members of a tight knit of group of survivors break off and not come to a party because Uncle Mike or someone is in town? I just don't get it. At all. Because sending your regrets and love is just not like sending yourself in person. Maybe I am bitter that I don't have those kinds of endless family occasions. And I don't ditch my friends. Just to be clear, we  don't all get together very often. It was our Christmas get together. We don't see each other much in our everyday lives if at all. Unlike family who see each other a lot, especially in the holidays. I realize I am really skirting around this issue and I wish I could just get it out.  I just don't understand it. What do people who have no family do or think of this? Our church usually organizes  a Christmas Day meal and service for those left behind with no family ( or friends I suppose).  It is akin to one of those cringily named orphans or waifs and strays affairs ( I know - it's a nice invitation to get!) No one can host it this year. No body wants to. None of the waifs and strays have the space, the time or the energy to do it. What will become of them when everyone is busy celebrating with Drunk Uncle Mike? I know I speak of this from the privileged point of view of one who has a spouse and a child and even some living relatives. I am not going to be left in the cold. Or uninvited. But I do really feel the dearth of Other People in our lives.

Sometimes I  just feel lonesome. It is a part of my personality and has not changed with having Isobel. Susan, Isobel and I are a very tight, close knit threesome. We like that. But we go to the zoo and  I see families with uncles, aunts, family friends, tagging along.  Groups of people. And that is rarely rarely us. We don't really have a gang that we hang with. Our baby mama friends are often busy with friends and relatives popping in to visit or on their way through town. We have friends that we see on occasions that we plan. Like a dinner now and then. We have no do drop in friends.  ( Do people do that any more? It was one of my favorite things about my life as a student in Wales). Our core people are the ones I mentioned earlier and they are busy busy busy.

When we envisioned having a family I had this fantasy that people would come out of the woodwork and would want to be around us more because of Isobel. In some ways that was true - everyone wanted to meet her and visit with us when she was small. And people are still enchanted with her when they see her. She is pretty darn cute. But people in the deep fabric of our lives. We don't have them. We see people at church on Sunday. We have lots of acquaintances. I have a nice group of old work friends from my last two jobs. We make arrangements to see people when we can - which is always based on the level of overwhelm and is often sporadaic. Susan goes to meetings related to church and her chosen career as a would be and almost ready to be ordained minister. That's not exactly fun although is is fulfilling. At work I am glad to have a team which I supervise that I can actually confide in to some degree ( might bite me in the ass at some point, but it's all I have got for now to keep me going as peer relationships are either hindered by too much work and no time, or in the case of my closest peers,  too much time wasting and not much work).

One of our most precious family connections is our friend M who is my mum's friend from high school who has kept in touch all these years. She and my mum were both married on the same day ( to different men) which meant they couldn't attend each others' weddings. To me that is sad because it again  puts "family" of the wedding ring type ahead of "family" of the friend type. She talks about women in those days being a lot more clueless and less worldly wise. I get the feeling that neither of them really had much of a clue about the trajectory of their lives on their young and innocent wedding days and at least one of them was getting married to an idea  more than anything else.My mother practically worshiped M her whole life and saw her as an adventuresome woman whose life took interesting turns and who was not as wrapped up in domesticity as she was. In her turn, M admired my mom's ( reluctant) domesticity, her  nice husband and kids and being caught up in  and dedicated to their exploits (which were less adventurous and closer to home).

M lives in Canada near Toronto and has for the last 40 or so years. Since we have been living in Chicago, she has begun to visit my sister and me over the years and now she is probably as close to or closer to us as she was to my mum. She normally comes to visit at least once  a year - usually in November and came twice in Isobel's early life and was a wonderful helpful calming presence. We went to visit her this summer and had a lovely relaxing time ( apart from the rather nightmarish overnight train trip). And she was supposed to visit this fall but her health has not been good and it's hard for her to travel and also to get travel health insurance - as she is in her mid seventies and has some chronic health conditions. It seems that so many things conspire against us getting together. I forgot to say one of the most important things about M. She is Isobel's grandma. We offered her that title when Isobel was very small - or maybe even before she was born. My mom was alive only for the first month of Isobel's life and it felt right to have M be one of Isobel's grandmas. So we miss M. We talk on the phone and email. She is lovely. We have found each other in a very sweet way and I wish we were closer in real life.

I seem to be doomed to have mother type figures in my life who do not stay. That is a story for another post. But I think it is this missing of a mother figure that really has done me in for a lot of my life - either because my mother was missing metaphorically or because I picked people to fill in that role who were ill equiped or unaware that they had been chosen for this role. And that is really getting to the nitty gritty.

Hmmmm.... I know this is rather wobbly, but I do want to get it out there. What do you all think of this family / friends hierarchy? Are you disappointed too? Do tell!

more about milk...

All is going well.  After the first few days of the "honeymoon" period of weaning, it seemed that Isobel was having a really hard time in general. She was more in need of reassurance and hugs and had quite a few melt downs. My sister reminded me that when kiddos are working on one developmental step, they will regress in another. This seemed to be the case with Isobel. So we took longer with the transition and were sure to fill her up with love as much as possible.

We are down to twice  a day ( or night, really - bedtime and first thing in the morning). Tonight we dropped the coming-home-from-work-feed / naptime-when-I am-home-feed. I felt so sad coming home knowing that we would not be having our special booby time on the couch as soon as I came in.  I sat outside in the car for a minute and pre-emptively mourned the loss of this special time. Usually I get a big hug and then am told "booby - couch". Which is my cue to divest myself of my bra and lie on our big green seen-better-days couch with Isobel and get snuggly and give milkies.

It went fairly smoothly tonight. Susan had been prepping Isobel before I came home and reminding her there would be no booby til bedtime. She had her snack and was chomping on it as I walked in the door. I told her that I loved her very much but there would be no more booby til bedtime. She said "ok" and went back to her snack and her program on the I Pad. Then we all had a tea party in the kitchen with a cute little tea set that I have been saving for a special occasion. It was a big hit and Isobel poured "tea" and added sugar and cream to her cup and proceeded to eat a pretend cupcake. She presided over the event with great care and authority, reminding us to drink our tea and eat our cupcakes if we lapsed in concentration. It was really very sweet.

I realize that this may all seem so trivial and almost sentimental, especially to readers who are in the throes of TTC and the rawness of infertility and treatment.  I admit, I am sentimental about it.  The reason I am doing it is very clear to me.  Only to get pregnant again.  And to help Isobel avoid further tooth decay ( which may or may not be related to breast feeding at night). Without this need to go off meds for a mandatory mammogram and the meds for pre pregnancy I would be nursing Isobel at night for a long time to come.

So far we have not had to do a no nursing nap time / night time session. That I am not looking forward to. We have til the beginning of January when I will have a scheduled mammogram and then go in for baseline testing again to prepare for the cycle. 

One of my baby mama friends announced that she is pregnant. She is the fourth of our group of baby mamas to get pregnant with a second baby. Two of those babies have been born, two are on the way. I can't help think that all my friend had to do was have sex in order to get pregnant. What does that even look like? How is that even possible? Not in my wildest imagination.  I know it's how most people have babies, but to me, it seems so ridiculously mockingly easy peasy and cruelly so far out of my reach.

So I wean and get ready for a FET. That's my reality.