Hopeful EDD: 4/27/11
First Beta @ 12dpo = 65
Progesterone = 11.6 (starting 200mg Prometrium nightly)
Second Beta @ 14dpo = ? (we'll find out tomorrow)
In. Shock.
Showing posts with label TTC #2. Show all posts
Showing posts with label TTC #2. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
(Almost) Wordless Wednesday: Shock Factor
Hopeful EDD: 4/27/11
First Beta @ 12dpo = 65
Progesterone = 11.6 (starting 200mg Prometrium nightly)
Second Beta @ 14dpo = ? (we'll find out tomorrow)
In. Shock.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Negative
12dpo. BFN.
I treated the pee stick like a pot that refused to boil should I stare. I would walk away, pace the hall anxiously and come back to analyze the results. After ten minutes of obsessive-compulsive behavior, I accepted the harsh reality that a line just wasn't going to magically appear where I hoped it would.
Disappointment initially hit me like a ton of bricks. My EDD would have been 1/25. Exactly the same as my dear "Snowflake" we lost three years ago. I had convinced myself we were destined for success this cycle. That it was meant to be so I could turn that day into a happy memory.
But I realized that, in a way, I am glad that "Snowflake" has that date all to herself. I wasn't able to give her life but at least I can give her that day. A proper commemoration of the short 11+ weeks we shared.
I didn't have time to shed a tear before Nate started beckoning me from his crib. I picked up his limp body and and rocked him gently in the glider as he fought to wake up. I swept his white blonde bangs from his tear-stained eyes and kissed his forehead. The light formed a comforting shadow in our little corner of the world. And just like that, I was at peace.
I'm still hopeful that we'll conceive a sibling someday. But I must remain thankful for the blessings that soften the blow.
I treated the pee stick like a pot that refused to boil should I stare. I would walk away, pace the hall anxiously and come back to analyze the results. After ten minutes of obsessive-compulsive behavior, I accepted the harsh reality that a line just wasn't going to magically appear where I hoped it would.
Disappointment initially hit me like a ton of bricks. My EDD would have been 1/25. Exactly the same as my dear "Snowflake" we lost three years ago. I had convinced myself we were destined for success this cycle. That it was meant to be so I could turn that day into a happy memory.
But I realized that, in a way, I am glad that "Snowflake" has that date all to herself. I wasn't able to give her life but at least I can give her that day. A proper commemoration of the short 11+ weeks we shared.
I didn't have time to shed a tear before Nate started beckoning me from his crib. I picked up his limp body and and rocked him gently in the glider as he fought to wake up. I swept his white blonde bangs from his tear-stained eyes and kissed his forehead. The light formed a comforting shadow in our little corner of the world. And just like that, I was at peace.
I'm still hopeful that we'll conceive a sibling someday. But I must remain thankful for the blessings that soften the blow.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Put On A Happy Face
I love when I wake up in the morning to a smiling face, don't you?
This was the beautiful, surprising sight I saw on Monday - and again on Tuesday. It had been so long since I'd seen a positive OPK (on day 14 no less!) that I thought I was dreaming. I had to rub the crust from the corners of my eyes and turn on the bathroom light to be sure that there were indeed eyes and a mouth in that digital circle.
As of today, I've gotten my crosshairs and am officially 3dpo. Our timing was impeccable. We're now just sitting pretty until test day: May 15.
I'm amazed that the 50mg worked this time. Last time, pre-Nate, the 50mg did nothing but give me a monster cyst. Even 100mg had trouble releasing a golden egg. I'm shocked - and stoked - that my ovaries got the memo this time around, and on the lowest dosage. Funnily enough, my side effects have been much more potent this cycle. My past Clomid cycles incurred a week of hot flashes that were annoying but manageable. I remember sitting in business meetings, sweating like a prostitute in church. Well, this time, I had one minor hot flash that lasted all of sixty seconds but cramps, nausea and dizziness galore. You'd think the lower dose would mean less side effects. Not so in my case.
Today, as I was folding t-shirts and putting them away in his drawers, I told Nate that he could be a big brother in as soon as 8 months. I know he doesn't quite understand the magnitude of that statement. It's even hard for me to believe it is an actual possibility.
Right now it just seems like an illusion.
This was the beautiful, surprising sight I saw on Monday - and again on Tuesday. It had been so long since I'd seen a positive OPK (on day 14 no less!) that I thought I was dreaming. I had to rub the crust from the corners of my eyes and turn on the bathroom light to be sure that there were indeed eyes and a mouth in that digital circle.
As of today, I've gotten my crosshairs and am officially 3dpo. Our timing was impeccable. We're now just sitting pretty until test day: May 15.
I'm amazed that the 50mg worked this time. Last time, pre-Nate, the 50mg did nothing but give me a monster cyst. Even 100mg had trouble releasing a golden egg. I'm shocked - and stoked - that my ovaries got the memo this time around, and on the lowest dosage. Funnily enough, my side effects have been much more potent this cycle. My past Clomid cycles incurred a week of hot flashes that were annoying but manageable. I remember sitting in business meetings, sweating like a prostitute in church. Well, this time, I had one minor hot flash that lasted all of sixty seconds but cramps, nausea and dizziness galore. You'd think the lower dose would mean less side effects. Not so in my case.
Today, as I was folding t-shirts and putting them away in his drawers, I told Nate that he could be a big brother in as soon as 8 months. I know he doesn't quite understand the magnitude of that statement. It's even hard for me to believe it is an actual possibility.
Right now it just seems like an illusion.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Consumed
For the past 6 months, my posting here has been spotty at best. It's not really that I am so busy that I forget that I have a blog. And it's definitely not that I don't care. I want to write but the moment I sit down in front of the blank white box, the words escape me. I remember years ago how my thoughts would just pour out of me onto the page. I could succinctly express myself in some profound, poetic way without even really trying. But that was when I was struggling. When I'm in pain, it's so easy for me to write. Subtracting infertility from the equation has seemingly deducted my writing skills.
I've debated putting an end to this blog. Moving on. Telling myself that I just don't have the time or the talent anymore. But my heart won't let me give up. I don't want to just accept my current state as fact. So, here I am, in the midst of Infertility Awareness Week, committing myself to Bloggy Rehab so I can get back my groove back. I may have lost my way but I'm going to dig deep for that compass so I can get back on track.
_______________________________________________
The best word I can use to describe my current state of mind is: consumed.
Not so much with our day-to-day routine. After our first year of mass confusion, we finally have that down pat. Wake up at 7am. Breakfast at 8am. Morning Snack at 11am. Nap at noon. Lunch at 2pm. Playtime/errands until 6pm. Dinner at 7pm. Bath at 7:30pm. Bedtime at 8pm. (Betcha wanted to know all about our monotony, am I right?!) There is little deviation from this schedule. No surprises. Moreso, I'm consumed with a sense of tremendous guilt.
I know I'm not the only mom on the planet who feels this emotion and I realize it is normal to an extent. I've always been one to hold myself to a high standard. And it was okay because if I failed, I was only affecting myself. With parenting, I have so much more at stake. My screw-ups now could affect my son for the rest of his life. So, I am acutely more aware of my mistakes. And well, those are aplenty.
At 21 months, Nate is still pretty much a mute. Don't get me wrong - he babbles incessantly. But it's a foreign language that only he seems to be able to comprehend. He's only said about 15-20 "real" words. And even those aren't consistent. He's perfectly content to point and grunt rather than enunciate his wants and needs. MIL assures me that DH was a late talker and that Nate will eventually gain vocabulary - probably after the age of 2. But naturally, I am concerned for his development. His comprehension is perfectly fine and he can follow simple commands like "brush your teeth", "brush your hair", "grab your shoes", "where's the ball?", etc. That's the only reason I haven't yet consulted a speech therapist. However, children younger than him are speaking in 2-3 word sentences. I'm trying not to do the whole comparison thing because I know there is a HUGE range of "normal" amongst toddlers. But I can't help but feel as if this is somehow my fault. Have I not communicated with him enough? Is he watching too much TV? Is he not socialized enough since he is an only child and I'm a SAHM? Guilt, guilt and more guilt.
And then there's the issue of TTC #2. We've been trying nonchalantly for almost 8 months now. Of course, I haven't ovulated once in that time. Par for the course. I didn't start charting until January but I've yet to see anything close to a temp shift during my 70+ day cycles. I can't say I was surprised but my OB/GYN wanted me to come in for some bloodwork, just to make sure my thyroid wasn't to blame. Come to find out, I do indeed have PCOS. As in polycystic ovaries. Why my RE didn't catch or disclose this in the year that I was her patient, I haven't the foggiest. I suspect I've had this problem all along, even though I am not technically overweight and I don't display all of the symptoms (unfortunately, skin tags and facial hair are ones that I happen to exhibit. Jackpot!) But this pretty much means I am unlikely to get - and stay - pregnant without some sort of medical intervention. So, here I am, back on wonder-drug, Clomid. Yesterday was my last pill and I'm hoping to release a magic eggie in the next week. There is hope. But I am still plagued by the what-ifs.
I am excited at the prospect of another baby. I feel ready to add to our family. But yet I question myself. Is this really the best timing? Do I really want to push my luck again and risk miscarriage? How in the hell would I deal with a loss when I have to care for a toddler? What if I have a high-risk pregnancy? There's no way I could do bedrest. Are we just being greedy? Shouldn't we just be thankful for what we have? After struggling with primary infertility, I feel guilty admitting that my family doesn't feel complete with just one child.
Last but not least, there's the SAHM guilt. I felt guilty working through the first 8 months of Nate's life, walking in the door as the clock ticked to witching hour. I thought putting my career in the backseat to invest my time in raising my son would mean zero guilt. Not the case. DH is working much longer hours (almost 80 hours a week between his 9-5 and running his business). He's under more stress. All because he's the sole provider now. I'm no spendthrift but I feel bad if I spend so much as $4 on a latte. I purchase toys and clothes from consignment and outlet sales. I knew that choosing this lifestyle would mean sacrifices. And luckily, we haven't had to give up much. I don't regret the transition. But I'd be lying if I said I never longed for a time when I could whip out my credit card and spend $150 on a salon visit. Or have the means to afford Mommy groups and summer camps and swim lessons.
I'm bombarded with so many decisions on a daily basis. I just hope I'm making the right ones.
I've debated putting an end to this blog. Moving on. Telling myself that I just don't have the time or the talent anymore. But my heart won't let me give up. I don't want to just accept my current state as fact. So, here I am, in the midst of Infertility Awareness Week, committing myself to Bloggy Rehab so I can get back my groove back. I may have lost my way but I'm going to dig deep for that compass so I can get back on track.
_______________________________________________
The best word I can use to describe my current state of mind is: consumed.
Not so much with our day-to-day routine. After our first year of mass confusion, we finally have that down pat. Wake up at 7am. Breakfast at 8am. Morning Snack at 11am. Nap at noon. Lunch at 2pm. Playtime/errands until 6pm. Dinner at 7pm. Bath at 7:30pm. Bedtime at 8pm. (Betcha wanted to know all about our monotony, am I right?!) There is little deviation from this schedule. No surprises. Moreso, I'm consumed with a sense of tremendous guilt.
I know I'm not the only mom on the planet who feels this emotion and I realize it is normal to an extent. I've always been one to hold myself to a high standard. And it was okay because if I failed, I was only affecting myself. With parenting, I have so much more at stake. My screw-ups now could affect my son for the rest of his life. So, I am acutely more aware of my mistakes. And well, those are aplenty.
At 21 months, Nate is still pretty much a mute. Don't get me wrong - he babbles incessantly. But it's a foreign language that only he seems to be able to comprehend. He's only said about 15-20 "real" words. And even those aren't consistent. He's perfectly content to point and grunt rather than enunciate his wants and needs. MIL assures me that DH was a late talker and that Nate will eventually gain vocabulary - probably after the age of 2. But naturally, I am concerned for his development. His comprehension is perfectly fine and he can follow simple commands like "brush your teeth", "brush your hair", "grab your shoes", "where's the ball?", etc. That's the only reason I haven't yet consulted a speech therapist. However, children younger than him are speaking in 2-3 word sentences. I'm trying not to do the whole comparison thing because I know there is a HUGE range of "normal" amongst toddlers. But I can't help but feel as if this is somehow my fault. Have I not communicated with him enough? Is he watching too much TV? Is he not socialized enough since he is an only child and I'm a SAHM? Guilt, guilt and more guilt.
And then there's the issue of TTC #2. We've been trying nonchalantly for almost 8 months now. Of course, I haven't ovulated once in that time. Par for the course. I didn't start charting until January but I've yet to see anything close to a temp shift during my 70+ day cycles. I can't say I was surprised but my OB/GYN wanted me to come in for some bloodwork, just to make sure my thyroid wasn't to blame. Come to find out, I do indeed have PCOS. As in polycystic ovaries. Why my RE didn't catch or disclose this in the year that I was her patient, I haven't the foggiest. I suspect I've had this problem all along, even though I am not technically overweight and I don't display all of the symptoms (unfortunately, skin tags and facial hair are ones that I happen to exhibit. Jackpot!) But this pretty much means I am unlikely to get - and stay - pregnant without some sort of medical intervention. So, here I am, back on wonder-drug, Clomid. Yesterday was my last pill and I'm hoping to release a magic eggie in the next week. There is hope. But I am still plagued by the what-ifs.
I am excited at the prospect of another baby. I feel ready to add to our family. But yet I question myself. Is this really the best timing? Do I really want to push my luck again and risk miscarriage? How in the hell would I deal with a loss when I have to care for a toddler? What if I have a high-risk pregnancy? There's no way I could do bedrest. Are we just being greedy? Shouldn't we just be thankful for what we have? After struggling with primary infertility, I feel guilty admitting that my family doesn't feel complete with just one child.
Last but not least, there's the SAHM guilt. I felt guilty working through the first 8 months of Nate's life, walking in the door as the clock ticked to witching hour. I thought putting my career in the backseat to invest my time in raising my son would mean zero guilt. Not the case. DH is working much longer hours (almost 80 hours a week between his 9-5 and running his business). He's under more stress. All because he's the sole provider now. I'm no spendthrift but I feel bad if I spend so much as $4 on a latte. I purchase toys and clothes from consignment and outlet sales. I knew that choosing this lifestyle would mean sacrifices. And luckily, we haven't had to give up much. I don't regret the transition. But I'd be lying if I said I never longed for a time when I could whip out my credit card and spend $150 on a salon visit. Or have the means to afford Mommy groups and summer camps and swim lessons.
I'm bombarded with so many decisions on a daily basis. I just hope I'm making the right ones.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
How Dare I
...just sneak in and post a cowardly Wordless Wednesday after not updating for over 2 months? The nerve. But seriously, the world has only just now stopped spinning fast enough for me to check in with the handful of you who still keep up with my sweetness. I'll try to play catch-up and let you know what we've been up to the past 8 weeks.
We moved into our new home on December 5th. It figures it was the first snow of the year that day, but we all survived and we're starting to get comfy. We've met the neighbors and they all have small children - 3 years old or younger. It's truly perfect for us. Although I've made my husband promise we will not move again for a VERY long time. As a matter of fact, I'd be happy staying here until my kid(s) put me in a retirement home. Just because I HATE moving THAT much.
Christmas was busy but fantastic. We hosted two family get-togethers at the new place and it went smashingly. I got a new Coach bag and wallet, a new coat and a Snuggie (woot!). DH got some gift cards, video games and some books. And Nate got plenty of toys that he dumped aside for the boxes they came in. I only wish the day had lasted longer. I feel like we just decorated our tree and now it is out next to the trash.
Nate is growing and thriving. I can hardly believe he'll be 18 months in just under 3 weeks. He looks less like a baby and more like a big boy everyday. He's still not much of a talker but he is becoming much more expressive so I think a vocabulary explosion may be around the corner. His newest words are "apple", "Grandmom", "dog", "more", "mine" (gotta love that one) and "night-night". Once, he even said "DJ Lance" when watching his favorite bizarro TV show, Yo Gabba Gabba. He can identify his ears and belly button. We're working on nose, mouth, eyes and other body parts. If I hand him a brush and tell him to brush his hair, he will follow my instructions. He can also clean his ears with a Q-Tip (with my assistance, of course) and brush his teeth. He's also starting to give kisses but he often turns away when I get close. Stinker. It's amazing how much he picks up, and how fast. Which is precisely why we now have to be extremely careful about unbecoming language. The last thing I want is for him to repeat sailor-speak after Mommy curses during Guitar Hero.
But, with the good comes the bad. The "terrible twos" have arrived a bit sooner than anticipated here at Chez Sticky. Nate has at least one major temper tantrum a day, usually after a well-deserved "N-O", involving throwing himself on the floor, flailing limbs and screaming at the top of his lungs. It's happened in public a couple of times, to the point where I've had to leave the premises. Yes, I was THAT mom. He has quite a temper and it can be rather. unpredictable. When we took a trip to visit Santa, he was a perfect angel waiting in line but flipped out at the sight of the round, jolly fellow. We did get one decent picture, in which he looks disgusted at our attempts to distract him with glorified dog toys. Just this past weekend, we attempted to get family portraits done but after a particularly horrid meltdown, we left on the brink of tears, empty-handed. As much as I hate how quickly time flies, I can say with certainty, I will NOT miss this stage. It's so hard because I feel like he is too young for a spanking or time out or other methods of behavior modification. So, I am unsure how to handle the situation. Most of the time, I just ignore him and walk away. He will usually come running back to me because he doesn't want to be alone, and most times, he will forget why he was so worked up in the first place. But I do feel chained to the house because of this difficulty. Thankfully, he is sleeping through the night consistently from 8pm to 7am so I can at least have some much-needed me-time.
One last thing...we're still dipping our toes in the water to TTC #2. Nate is still nursing twice a day (at naptime and bedtime), which I believe is interfering with my cycles. I'm only on PPAF #3 since August. Both cycles before the current one were anovulatory, so I'm not expecting much in the way of a surprise BFP. I'm considering calling my OB/GYN about a prescription for Clomid but it would mean weaning. As in the end of our nursing relationship. I just don't think Nate is ready to give it up completely yet. And I feel selfish for even thinking about forcibly weaning him just to try for another baby. So, basically, I'm undecided and I think a call to the doctor will at least give me some options to think about.
All in all, that's been our life the past few months. I've missed you all and plan to write more often in 2010. New Year's Resolution: regain the blogging mojo.
We moved into our new home on December 5th. It figures it was the first snow of the year that day, but we all survived and we're starting to get comfy. We've met the neighbors and they all have small children - 3 years old or younger. It's truly perfect for us. Although I've made my husband promise we will not move again for a VERY long time. As a matter of fact, I'd be happy staying here until my kid(s) put me in a retirement home. Just because I HATE moving THAT much.
Christmas was busy but fantastic. We hosted two family get-togethers at the new place and it went smashingly. I got a new Coach bag and wallet, a new coat and a Snuggie (woot!). DH got some gift cards, video games and some books. And Nate got plenty of toys that he dumped aside for the boxes they came in. I only wish the day had lasted longer. I feel like we just decorated our tree and now it is out next to the trash.
Nate is growing and thriving. I can hardly believe he'll be 18 months in just under 3 weeks. He looks less like a baby and more like a big boy everyday. He's still not much of a talker but he is becoming much more expressive so I think a vocabulary explosion may be around the corner. His newest words are "apple", "Grandmom", "dog", "more", "mine" (gotta love that one) and "night-night". Once, he even said "DJ Lance" when watching his favorite bizarro TV show, Yo Gabba Gabba. He can identify his ears and belly button. We're working on nose, mouth, eyes and other body parts. If I hand him a brush and tell him to brush his hair, he will follow my instructions. He can also clean his ears with a Q-Tip (with my assistance, of course) and brush his teeth. He's also starting to give kisses but he often turns away when I get close. Stinker. It's amazing how much he picks up, and how fast. Which is precisely why we now have to be extremely careful about unbecoming language. The last thing I want is for him to repeat sailor-speak after Mommy curses during Guitar Hero.
But, with the good comes the bad. The "terrible twos" have arrived a bit sooner than anticipated here at Chez Sticky. Nate has at least one major temper tantrum a day, usually after a well-deserved "N-O", involving throwing himself on the floor, flailing limbs and screaming at the top of his lungs. It's happened in public a couple of times, to the point where I've had to leave the premises. Yes, I was THAT mom. He has quite a temper and it can be rather. unpredictable. When we took a trip to visit Santa, he was a perfect angel waiting in line but flipped out at the sight of the round, jolly fellow. We did get one decent picture, in which he looks disgusted at our attempts to distract him with glorified dog toys. Just this past weekend, we attempted to get family portraits done but after a particularly horrid meltdown, we left on the brink of tears, empty-handed. As much as I hate how quickly time flies, I can say with certainty, I will NOT miss this stage. It's so hard because I feel like he is too young for a spanking or time out or other methods of behavior modification. So, I am unsure how to handle the situation. Most of the time, I just ignore him and walk away. He will usually come running back to me because he doesn't want to be alone, and most times, he will forget why he was so worked up in the first place. But I do feel chained to the house because of this difficulty. Thankfully, he is sleeping through the night consistently from 8pm to 7am so I can at least have some much-needed me-time.
One last thing...we're still dipping our toes in the water to TTC #2. Nate is still nursing twice a day (at naptime and bedtime), which I believe is interfering with my cycles. I'm only on PPAF #3 since August. Both cycles before the current one were anovulatory, so I'm not expecting much in the way of a surprise BFP. I'm considering calling my OB/GYN about a prescription for Clomid but it would mean weaning. As in the end of our nursing relationship. I just don't think Nate is ready to give it up completely yet. And I feel selfish for even thinking about forcibly weaning him just to try for another baby. So, basically, I'm undecided and I think a call to the doctor will at least give me some options to think about.
All in all, that's been our life the past few months. I've missed you all and plan to write more often in 2010. New Year's Resolution: regain the blogging mojo.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Big News: Better Late Than Never
I know from the title and my two-and-a-half-week absence you're expecting to see a picture of a pee stick with two brazen lines but you're about to feel cheated. I'm sorry to disappoint but I do have other exciting news to share.
DH and I are BUYING OUR FIRST HOUSE!
I know, I know, we just moved to this house back in February. Our lease isn't even up for another year. WTF are we thinking, moving again so soon?! But this just sorta landed in our lap and it was too good a deal to pass up. It's a brand spankin' new home. Energy efficient. Good neighborhood. Room to grow. Did I mention it is brand new? After weighing the risks vs. the benefits, we decided to jump on it. The $8k government tax credit certainly won't hurt. And we're confident our current residence will rent quickly. We've only had it posted for four days and we already have two showings scheduled. Hopefully, we won't end up having two payments. Cross your fingers.
We've ordered the appliances (all stainless), cabinets, countertops and the flooring. We're pretty much ready to settle right before Thanksgiving. It will be hectic but we'll be able to relax in our new home just in time for Christmas. Yippee!
Owning a home has been a dream of ours for what seems like eons. We are finally bringing that dream to life. Our hard work and our sacrifices are paying off. We couldn't be happier.
_________________________________________________
It's cycle day... oh, I don't know. I've lost count. But I believe it's in the early fifties. I spotted for two days and then nada. I'm so over it. I have enough to occupy my time at the moment so it's not driving me too insane. Yet. I'm sure as the holidays approach, the baby fever will burn bright. But I digress.
Nate is doing great, although he did manage to get his first fat lip last week. DH was playing with him on the bed when he flipped off and either hit or bit through his lip. There were copious amounts of blood and I freaked out. I believe screaming was involved, actually. We rushed him to the hospital but thankfully, he didn't need stitches. At first, I felt like the world's worst mother but after much consolation from friends and family, I feel less inadequate. The wound has pretty much closed up now and you can hardly tell there was ever an incident. Needless to say, Nate is no longer allowed on our bed. I'd rather be a party pooper than see my baby with stitches in his face. I did manage to take a picture to document this unfortunate "first".
Oh, and did I mention my little man now sleeps through the night? Seriously. It's been a solid week of sleeping straight through from 8pm to 7am. After several teasers, I thought this would never happen. It only took 14.5 months. Better late than never!
DH and I are BUYING OUR FIRST HOUSE!
I know, I know, we just moved to this house back in February. Our lease isn't even up for another year. WTF are we thinking, moving again so soon?! But this just sorta landed in our lap and it was too good a deal to pass up. It's a brand spankin' new home. Energy efficient. Good neighborhood. Room to grow. Did I mention it is brand new? After weighing the risks vs. the benefits, we decided to jump on it. The $8k government tax credit certainly won't hurt. And we're confident our current residence will rent quickly. We've only had it posted for four days and we already have two showings scheduled. Hopefully, we won't end up having two payments. Cross your fingers.
We've ordered the appliances (all stainless), cabinets, countertops and the flooring. We're pretty much ready to settle right before Thanksgiving. It will be hectic but we'll be able to relax in our new home just in time for Christmas. Yippee!
Owning a home has been a dream of ours for what seems like eons. We are finally bringing that dream to life. Our hard work and our sacrifices are paying off. We couldn't be happier.
_________________________________________________
It's cycle day... oh, I don't know. I've lost count. But I believe it's in the early fifties. I spotted for two days and then nada. I'm so over it. I have enough to occupy my time at the moment so it's not driving me too insane. Yet. I'm sure as the holidays approach, the baby fever will burn bright. But I digress.
Nate is doing great, although he did manage to get his first fat lip last week. DH was playing with him on the bed when he flipped off and either hit or bit through his lip. There were copious amounts of blood and I freaked out. I believe screaming was involved, actually. We rushed him to the hospital but thankfully, he didn't need stitches. At first, I felt like the world's worst mother but after much consolation from friends and family, I feel less inadequate. The wound has pretty much closed up now and you can hardly tell there was ever an incident. Needless to say, Nate is no longer allowed on our bed. I'd rather be a party pooper than see my baby with stitches in his face. I did manage to take a picture to document this unfortunate "first".
Oh, and did I mention my little man now sleeps through the night? Seriously. It's been a solid week of sleeping straight through from 8pm to 7am. After several teasers, I thought this would never happen. It only took 14.5 months. Better late than never!
Friday, September 25, 2009
Pity Party of One
CD 33. I tested with a cheapie Aimstick. Got the most beautiful evap you've ever laid eyes on. Confirmed when Answer test came revealed a singular pink line. Enter string symphony.
I have no right to be upset. I have a beautiful boy playing at my feet to ease the pain. For that I am eternally grateful. But I feel stupid. Stupid. Stoopid.
After more than two years of this very same disappointment, I should have known better. Did I really think that giving birth would somehow hit the reset button on my reproductive system? Was I so naive to believe that a couple of pregnancy dreams would really set the stage for reality? And most importantly, did I honestly think that we'd be so lucky as to conceive on the first month of trying? Sure, it could happen and does happen to some. But I am not some. I am undeniably different. And odds are, I will never be the urban legend.
My cycles have always been irregular and will inevitably remain so. By not temping this month, I'm in complete disarray - not knowing if I've ovulated at all. I'm just waiting, perplexed. I hate lacking knowledge. Lacking control. I feel helpess. There's nothing I can do. I'm in limbo until my dear aunt decides to appease me.
I have to face facts and stop allowing hope to upstage reason. I've been here before. But how quickly we forget.
I have no right to be upset. I have a beautiful boy playing at my feet to ease the pain. For that I am eternally grateful. But I feel stupid. Stupid. Stoopid.
After more than two years of this very same disappointment, I should have known better. Did I really think that giving birth would somehow hit the reset button on my reproductive system? Was I so naive to believe that a couple of pregnancy dreams would really set the stage for reality? And most importantly, did I honestly think that we'd be so lucky as to conceive on the first month of trying? Sure, it could happen and does happen to some. But I am not some. I am undeniably different. And odds are, I will never be the urban legend.
My cycles have always been irregular and will inevitably remain so. By not temping this month, I'm in complete disarray - not knowing if I've ovulated at all. I'm just waiting, perplexed. I hate lacking knowledge. Lacking control. I feel helpess. There's nothing I can do. I'm in limbo until my dear aunt decides to appease me.
I have to face facts and stop allowing hope to upstage reason. I've been here before. But how quickly we forget.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Happy Blogoversary to Me
I've been blogging for almost 3 years but today marks 1 year since I made the transition from IF blogger to mommy blogger. In some ways, it feels like it's been forever. But yet it also feels as if it just kinda snuck up on me.
Have I really been a mom for 13+ months? Somebody pinch me.
Let's see...what have we been up to? Well, we took a much needed vacation to Norfolk/Virginia Beach, VA. It was Nate's first time at the beach and he celebrated by double-fisting sand by the bucketfuls. Not sure what food group that would count toward. Protein?
I'm amazed by how he develops each day. He can play pattycake, high/low five, dance, do "so big" and wave on command now and makes sure to perform his circus tricks anytime we're in public. He can even play ball, picking up a ball and throwing it to me. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of catching the ball but he will fetch it. LOL He's become a complete ham and makes everyone around him smile whether we're at the grocery store or grabbing a bite to eat. I just grin with pride as they comment how adorable he is. If they only knew how he acts at home, they might not think he's that cute *wink wink*
He's also growing more vocal everyday. But he's not really consistent. He's said "stinky", "sock", "block" and "bird" just in the last week. But after he says it once or twice or even three times, he stops and moves onto the next thing. It makes me second guess myself whether or not he actually said what he said. Apparently, he's inherited his daddy's ADD. That or I'm schizophrenic and my voices are playing tricks on me.
Sleeping through the night is back on track now that the bottom molars are through. Whew, that was rough. I'm not relaxing yet though because I know the top ones will be next. But I am enjoying the uninterrupted sleep in the meantime.
Weaning is at a standstill. We're still at 3-4 times a day, although while we were on vacation there were a few times we dropped down to two. We're doing what works for us and that's all that matters. I've ceased having expectations in this department or caring about what anyone else has to say about it, including some stupid doctor. As long as Nate and I are both happy, I will continue offering the breast. Who knows how long it will last but until he is ready to give up more feedings, I will continue on the current path. He will take just about any sippy cup these days so we are making progress there. He prefers water and milk to juice, which I am thrilled about. I'd like to avoid as much sugar in his diet as I can so he doesn't grow up to be a sugar junkie like his mama.
As for TTC #2, I never quite gathered the courage to pull out the thermometer. So, no charting this month for me. My first PPAF was super light but lasted 9 days. Very strange. We haven't been timing BD. We're just being very casual. Who knows when my fertile window is. Right now, I'm not too concerned. I just want to play the part of the naive chick for once. The one who does things spontaneously and not because its a certain day. The one who wouldn't know all the acronyms.
The one who doesn't know the pain that we know.
Have I really been a mom for 13+ months? Somebody pinch me.
Let's see...what have we been up to? Well, we took a much needed vacation to Norfolk/Virginia Beach, VA. It was Nate's first time at the beach and he celebrated by double-fisting sand by the bucketfuls. Not sure what food group that would count toward. Protein?
I'm amazed by how he develops each day. He can play pattycake, high/low five, dance, do "so big" and wave on command now and makes sure to perform his circus tricks anytime we're in public. He can even play ball, picking up a ball and throwing it to me. He hasn't quite gotten the hang of catching the ball but he will fetch it. LOL He's become a complete ham and makes everyone around him smile whether we're at the grocery store or grabbing a bite to eat. I just grin with pride as they comment how adorable he is. If they only knew how he acts at home, they might not think he's that cute *wink wink*
He's also growing more vocal everyday. But he's not really consistent. He's said "stinky", "sock", "block" and "bird" just in the last week. But after he says it once or twice or even three times, he stops and moves onto the next thing. It makes me second guess myself whether or not he actually said what he said. Apparently, he's inherited his daddy's ADD. That or I'm schizophrenic and my voices are playing tricks on me.
Sleeping through the night is back on track now that the bottom molars are through. Whew, that was rough. I'm not relaxing yet though because I know the top ones will be next. But I am enjoying the uninterrupted sleep in the meantime.
Weaning is at a standstill. We're still at 3-4 times a day, although while we were on vacation there were a few times we dropped down to two. We're doing what works for us and that's all that matters. I've ceased having expectations in this department or caring about what anyone else has to say about it, including some stupid doctor. As long as Nate and I are both happy, I will continue offering the breast. Who knows how long it will last but until he is ready to give up more feedings, I will continue on the current path. He will take just about any sippy cup these days so we are making progress there. He prefers water and milk to juice, which I am thrilled about. I'd like to avoid as much sugar in his diet as I can so he doesn't grow up to be a sugar junkie like his mama.
As for TTC #2, I never quite gathered the courage to pull out the thermometer. So, no charting this month for me. My first PPAF was super light but lasted 9 days. Very strange. We haven't been timing BD. We're just being very casual. Who knows when my fertile window is. Right now, I'm not too concerned. I just want to play the part of the naive chick for once. The one who does things spontaneously and not because its a certain day. The one who wouldn't know all the acronyms.
The one who doesn't know the pain that we know.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Welcome Back, Welcome Back, Wel-come Ba-ack
No, you haven't flashed back 30 years. But I found the theme song appropriate in this case.
After 22 months, PPAF has finally made her appearance.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It's been nice being able to avoid the tampon aisle for as long as I have. I knew, logically, she had to come back sometime. And with Nate sleeping better at night, I knew it was imminent. But it still surprised me to look down today and see the evidence. It does reinforce that the weaning process is indeed working.
Tonight, I'll be pulling out the BBT that has been tucked away in my bedside table drawer for almost two years. We're not preventing. We're just seeing what happens.
I'm not sure if I'm ready for all this again. The charting. The timing. The waiting. The inevitable disappointment.
But when I look at Nate's sweet smile, I get a sense of hope. That, like the first go round, it will all be worth it in the end.
After 22 months, PPAF has finally made her appearance.
I don't know whether to laugh or cry. It's been nice being able to avoid the tampon aisle for as long as I have. I knew, logically, she had to come back sometime. And with Nate sleeping better at night, I knew it was imminent. But it still surprised me to look down today and see the evidence. It does reinforce that the weaning process is indeed working.
Tonight, I'll be pulling out the BBT that has been tucked away in my bedside table drawer for almost two years. We're not preventing. We're just seeing what happens.
I'm not sure if I'm ready for all this again. The charting. The timing. The waiting. The inevitable disappointment.
But when I look at Nate's sweet smile, I get a sense of hope. That, like the first go round, it will all be worth it in the end.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Popping the Question
With Nate rapidly approaching O-N-E (or perhaps love is in the air as we're in peak wedding season?) it seems as if everyone is proposing to me.
"So, when are you going to give Nate a brother or a sister?"
"Are you working on #2 yet?"
"Aren't you ready for another one?"
"You want them close in age, right? You'd better get started/get to practicing!"
"Now that you already have a baby, you can relax and it will happen when you least expect it."
That last one is my personal favorite. What a zinger. It implies that because I was able to carry a baby to term as a result of fertility treatment, I surely overreacted about my condition. If I had just relaxed...silly me. I could have saved myself thousands of dollars if I would have just taken this gem of assvice.
Not only have the suitors above infringed upon my privacy by delving into the topic that is (or rather is not) my sex life, but they've likely never experienced infertility or loss. Or else they'd know what a weighty, complex decision this is. It's not as simple as planning my children X years apart. Because we all know what a joke that is. I mean, my ovaries run amok, popping eggs at their random discretion. And my uterus acts like a choosy bouncer at a private, elite nightclub.
The likelihood that giving birth has somehow hit the reset button on my reproductive system is pretty low. Sure, I secretly hope that I've been miraculously healed but I'm trying to shuck the naivety and live in the land of cynicism. All in the name of self-preservation.
Despite all of the above, I have to admit I've been feeling the pressure to say yes. In the blogworld and in real life, BFPs abound. Most of them welcome surprises - sans third party intervention. And I find myself strangely battling jealousy. I feel selfish for wishing the same for myself. And greedy for craving another so soon when I've already been blessed with one amazing boy. I fear people may look at me and think, "why can't you just be happy with what you have?" They would have a point.
The only answer I have to that is: our family doesn't yet feel complete. I've always seen myself with two or three kids but after all we went through to get here, I wasn't initially sure I wanted to get back on the wagon. I was entitled to change my mind. But seeing how Nate adores other children - how our frequent playdates really bring out the best in him - I am positive about trying for a sibling. He prefers social situations to being alone so I don't feel as though having another baby would detract from him at all. And with me wearing the SAHM badge these days, I feel like there's no better time than the present. Well, we're actually considering October or November around the holidays but we're not preventing so anything could happen. Right?
I know it's foolishly optimistic of me to think I could be one of the urban legends that has an oopsie second. Especially when PPAF has yet to make her grand appearance. But yet this morning I found myself peeing on a stick. Just in case the headaches, fatigue and nausea I've had the past two days were more than just overnight interruptions and one too many cookies. Oh, and lest I forget the gas bubbles disguised as phantom kicks. I fell right back into old habits. Dumb. Dumb. DUMB. The blaring NOT PREGNANT was the wake-up call I needed. At least the expiration date on the stick was this month so I have an excuse. A poor one. But I couldn't stand to let it go to waste.
So, on one hand, I'm gung ho to pull out the BBT. But then I hesitate. I know what I could be up against. Realistically, the journey could be just as long as it was for Nate. Possibly longer. I could lose more babies. Nate doesn't sleep through the night - do I really want to perpetuate the sleeplessness? Especially when I'm home alone all day and sometimes at night as DH works two jobs? What if my recovery is just as hard or even harder? Could I honestly, truly love another baby like I love Nate?
It's hard to imagine I could be so lucky. I feel like I'm on the game show, Press Your Luck. I could win it all or a Whammy could pop up, taunt me and take it all away. But I guess I won't know unless I try.
"So, when are you going to give Nate a brother or a sister?"
"Are you working on #2 yet?"
"Aren't you ready for another one?"
"You want them close in age, right? You'd better get started/get to practicing!"
"Now that you already have a baby, you can relax and it will happen when you least expect it."
That last one is my personal favorite. What a zinger. It implies that because I was able to carry a baby to term as a result of fertility treatment, I surely overreacted about my condition. If I had just relaxed...silly me. I could have saved myself thousands of dollars if I would have just taken this gem of assvice.
Not only have the suitors above infringed upon my privacy by delving into the topic that is (or rather is not) my sex life, but they've likely never experienced infertility or loss. Or else they'd know what a weighty, complex decision this is. It's not as simple as planning my children X years apart. Because we all know what a joke that is. I mean, my ovaries run amok, popping eggs at their random discretion. And my uterus acts like a choosy bouncer at a private, elite nightclub.
The likelihood that giving birth has somehow hit the reset button on my reproductive system is pretty low. Sure, I secretly hope that I've been miraculously healed but I'm trying to shuck the naivety and live in the land of cynicism. All in the name of self-preservation.
Despite all of the above, I have to admit I've been feeling the pressure to say yes. In the blogworld and in real life, BFPs abound. Most of them welcome surprises - sans third party intervention. And I find myself strangely battling jealousy. I feel selfish for wishing the same for myself. And greedy for craving another so soon when I've already been blessed with one amazing boy. I fear people may look at me and think, "why can't you just be happy with what you have?" They would have a point.
The only answer I have to that is: our family doesn't yet feel complete. I've always seen myself with two or three kids but after all we went through to get here, I wasn't initially sure I wanted to get back on the wagon. I was entitled to change my mind. But seeing how Nate adores other children - how our frequent playdates really bring out the best in him - I am positive about trying for a sibling. He prefers social situations to being alone so I don't feel as though having another baby would detract from him at all. And with me wearing the SAHM badge these days, I feel like there's no better time than the present. Well, we're actually considering October or November around the holidays but we're not preventing so anything could happen. Right?
I know it's foolishly optimistic of me to think I could be one of the urban legends that has an oopsie second. Especially when PPAF has yet to make her grand appearance. But yet this morning I found myself peeing on a stick. Just in case the headaches, fatigue and nausea I've had the past two days were more than just overnight interruptions and one too many cookies. Oh, and lest I forget the gas bubbles disguised as phantom kicks. I fell right back into old habits. Dumb. Dumb. DUMB. The blaring NOT PREGNANT was the wake-up call I needed. At least the expiration date on the stick was this month so I have an excuse. A poor one. But I couldn't stand to let it go to waste.
So, on one hand, I'm gung ho to pull out the BBT. But then I hesitate. I know what I could be up against. Realistically, the journey could be just as long as it was for Nate. Possibly longer. I could lose more babies. Nate doesn't sleep through the night - do I really want to perpetuate the sleeplessness? Especially when I'm home alone all day and sometimes at night as DH works two jobs? What if my recovery is just as hard or even harder? Could I honestly, truly love another baby like I love Nate?
It's hard to imagine I could be so lucky. I feel like I'm on the game show, Press Your Luck. I could win it all or a Whammy could pop up, taunt me and take it all away. But I guess I won't know unless I try.
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