-
-
The Groups
2005’s Greatest Hits
As I reflect on the year that was I find that there were actually some very good things. In the midst of it all there were some great times.
So to honor 2005 I have compiled my Greatest Hits List:
1. Best Book I Read: This Too Can Be Yours by Beth Lisick
This collection of short stories made me laugh out loud. It reminded me of an earlier version of myself.
2. Best Album: State of the Ark by Ark
This is a Swedish import & I can’t get enough. Very much like Queen with kick ass rock anthems. Best track is ‘Trust is Shareware’.
3. Best Movie: Crash
I saw this in L.A. this summer with M & it left me speechless. A MUST see.
4. Best Guilty Pleasure: The L Word
I netflixed this as I was just starting my ttc journey. I was looking for anything that would showcase artificial insemination in a realistic way. (& ‘Frozen Assets’ with Shelly Long wasn’t cutting it.) But then I got hooked on the stories & I can’t wait for the new season to start.
5. Biggest Life Changing Moment: A simple realization that no matter what path I had chosen in my life I would always have ended up here now. I spent a lot of time wondering how different my life would have been if I had stayed in New York, moved to London, switched jobs in L.A.. The road not taken curiosity. Then it hit me a couple of months ago: no matter what, I would have dropped everything to come take care of GM. That was a huge thing to get. & has helped knock a few chips off the shoulder.
6. Biggest Disappointment: My return from Uganda. I had no idea that trip would affect me so much. The experience was profound and traumatic. So much so that months later I still find every possible excuse to avoid working on the documentary. I feel guilty and ashamed for not being stronger. But I have made peace with the knowledge that I will push through these issues. I will face this.
7. Greatest Mom Moments: realizing, with complete certainty, that my Mom is my truest champion. She has amazed me with her steadfast support and love. I feel, for the first time in ages, that she is doing the part of Mother. So many years I couldn’t count on her to be there & now I wouldn’t go anywhere without her. The best moment was on the drive home from my 1st IUI. She started crying in the car & kept telling me over & over how proud she was. Just what I needed to hear.
8. Best trip: Summer trip to L.A. / Vegas. This was my 1st time back to L.A. & I was so fucking nervous. But as soon as I landed & was able to just be with my old friends it was perfect. I realized that L.A. will always be a part of who I was. The people that I knew & loved there are still with me.
9. Best Medical Moment: Being told that my intracranial hypertension disorder was in remission. I spent the better part of 2004 sick and in a fog of medication. I worked at getting healthy off my meds. I found out jus before spring of 2005 that I was in the clear.
10. Best Grandmother Moment: Every morning is a great moment with her. Just the two of us, coffee and the crossword.
There are other countless memories and moments, but these are the ones that came to me easily today. I know that 2005 will always be a year that I pushed through a lot of fears.
My wish for 2006 is simple: I wish to have a child.
I won’t sugar coat it, or add anything else to the list. That is all I wish.
End of Leif
This month will be Leif’s last chance to shake his money maker. I am planning on going in for an IUI the 2nd week of January. I am doing a “whatever” cycle. So far I haven’t taken my morning temperature, I haven’t been dealing with medications, I’m just going to wing it. One last fling.
While it would be amazing if this month worked…I’m being pretty pragmatic about it all. If I get knocked up without the help of all the bells & whistles, chutes & ladders, vodka & tonic then that will be some kind of fantastic joke. & I would laugh about it for 9 months happily.
So with that in mind, I’ve got my eye on February. I will make the switch to injectable medications. I will also have a new donor at bat. I found a bank I really like in Michigan & am narrowing down the choices. As soon as I have him I will start talking him up. Will also have to work on his “stud” name.
See my first donor (for the 1st three tries) was nicknamed Fred Schwartz. (after a family joke. “Who left the milk out of the fridge?” “Not me, must have been Fred Schwartz.”)
R always left great voicemails on the day of IUI’s screaming, “May the Schwartz be with you!” & the Episcopalian in me would always giggle & think, “And also with you.”
It is important that the new donor have a fancy stud name as well. Leif was fun. But I need something way more butch or potent for the new guy. Once I pick him I’ll fill you in on some of his background & we can have a contest. Won’t that be fun?!
In other RE related news, the official kabash was put on R being my donor. If I was married to R there might have been a way that the clinic could have worked with us as an IVF patient, but it would be a really big paperwork/legal to do. In the long run I think it is best if R continues to cheer from the sidelines. & he has happily agreed to keep that up.
But what a great thing it almost was.
The photo with today’s post is from my 30th birthday dinner…or as some may call it, Christmas Eve dinner. Whatever. Mom got me a crown from ebay & I wore it all day. It made GM laugh so much. She kept saying that if I was a princess, Mom was a Queen & that made her the Queen Mother. QM indeed!
As we dance into the new year I am going to try to upload a photo for every post. Just because I can.
good news day?
So to offset yesterday’s shittiness, the Universe has given me two gems today.
1) I have just been notified that THREE of my photos have made it to the semi finals for a State Wide photo contest. (hello Cash Prizes!!) wooooo hooooo!
2) One of my best friends, I have written about him before, has asked if he can be my donor. He says he has found a way that would zap the HIV off his sample & that it would be safe. I haven’t heard of this (that I can remember) & am googling like a maniac trying to see if this is true. R being the donor would be all that I ever wanted: a smart, beautiful man, with great hair, eyes & teeth (so what if I am shallow?!) Plus having a known donor would be amazing. R was always going to be an Uncle to my kid, but this would be cake. There is much to think about.
As far as other options…I had talked about using the clinic’s donor bank to offset the costs of injectables. Well they no longer have a donor bank & only use “imported” sperm. So I do need to figure out where to shop next.
crappy new year
Today has been a disaster.
Not only am I still riding the crimson wave with awful cramps, not only am I broken out all over my face, not only am I still sad about not being pregnant, but I had to cancel my fabulous New Year’s trip to Philly.
I went to the grocery store this morning. I was going to make a zucchini frittata for brunch and I needed to make some food for Mom & Grandmother to eat while I was away.
I got to the checkout, swiped my card & it was declined. We tried it twice. The manager came over & called it in as a second check out girl opened up another lane to take care of the line queuing up behind me. It was too hot in the store & I just felt awful and embarrassed, but certain it was a mix up & I soon would be home.
It wasn’t a mix up. The manager said I needed to call the bank.
So I had to leave everything at the register and go home.
On the drive home I kept thinking how it must be a mistake. We have money in the bank. I have paid all the bills. This is a goof.
Got home & got Mom to call the bank with me. Of course, it being the day after Christmas nobody answered.
So we called our money manager (an ex boyfriend of my Mother’s who helps us manage three people with three sets of finances…it can get complicated). He was able to get some answers, but they weren’t good.
Turns out that Mother didn’t pay (she says she never got it) an American Express bill from october. She has the bills e-mailed to her so I never deal with her amex. Somehow, in a way that I really do not understand, the accounts are all linked. We use the amex to pay for all of our day to day & then pay it off in full every month out of the family account. But, if I have gotten the idiot gist of it all - we haven’t paid ANYTHING in 40 days.
So you know how on t.v they use the phrase “we will freeze your accounts!”? Well they really do that.
We are frozen.
Meaning I can’t even pay for my ticket to Philly.
I can’t even buy cat litter.
The money manager says to give him a couple of days to sort it out - he was taking some of the blame, but I, of course, blame my Mother entirely.
But by the time it sorts out & we have access to our accounts the train to Philly will have left.
& I will be stuck here, in Alabama, with nothing to do but watch back to back episodes of Law & Order.
I e-mailed Marta with the news & I think she is pissed off. I would be. Hell, I AM. But I am more embarrassed and depressed. It is very easy to have a melt down on days such as these.
It is very easy to feel smited by the Universe.
Cursed even.
THIRTY ROCKS
Happy Birthday to me!
So far having a good day. My birthday had a theme: my name. Everything I got had my name on it: dishes, mugs, wall hanging - lots of fragile things. I guess a sure sign that you are getting older is the amount of breakable items increases. & the birthday cards shifted from silly to those embossed types made out to “My Darling Daughter” or “to a lovely niece”.
But I have a lovely crown on my head & I will make this birthday kick ass. (even tho every inch of me is shaded with a bit of sadness.)
Going to take a few days off as I am sure most of you have.
Have a festive Weekend all!
More reflections…
At least my period had the dignity to show up the day before my birthday & get on with it.
I won’t pretend that I haven’t spent most of today crying and feeling sad. I am, to put it mildly, crushed. I know most of you know this feeling so I won’t elaborate.
A week ago I was certain that I would bail out of trying to get knocked up if this cycle didn’t work. But of course I was so fucking certain that it had worked. So I think my quitter’s attitude was fake.
If I don’t keep trying I will always regret it. I will always wonder. It is like coming close in a lottery - that sensation of victory is tangible. I can smell the baby powder.
But if I keep going I want to up the ante. Enough taking pills, give me the real stuff: injectables. A whole new world of medication to research.
I only have one vial left of Leif & I wonder if I should break up with him. Hell, I wonder if I should just try the cheap stuff they offered me at the clinic. The down side is that the only info you get is race, height, weight, hair & eye color. & a safe assumption that the donor works in the clinic in some capacity.
But I will deal with all of this in a few weeks. Now I am going to accept the hand that was dealt & try to make tomorrow & this weekend memorable. And I have a wonderful train trip to Philly coming up & raging partying to do with Marta once I get there.
For your amusement I am transcribing another gem from journals or yore. This is a poem I wrote when I was 14 & hating life at a snobby all girls prep school. I bet every drama major had shit like this in their journals. If you have old journals take them out & have a visit.
You Are Not Like Them:
the empty room suddenly is full
this bothers you
you like to be alone
aloof. nonchalant. only you.
now all these people won’t leave you be
“come here darling
come sit by me”
internally you pray
plead. hope. beg.
you want them to go
they want to be your friend
you sigh and they ask again
demand. urge. will.
these people are such a pain
they don’t understand you
they think that you are cool
but deep inside you’re passionate
dreaming of silver raindrops
your eyes glaze over enjoying imagination
the chick next to you wants to know if you have any hairspray.
Looking back on 19
So this is my last day of being 29. Tomorrow I will begin a new decade. It will be a quiet day. I have requested bagels for breakfast & that is about the extent of my celebration.
This morning I woke up sad. It’s a combo platter of sadness: turning 30, side order of single, extra helping of low self esteem, and for dessert - the realization that this last attempt to have a baby didn’t work. (for those of you playing at home: no period, no positive test, lower morning temperature)
Every couple of years, & usually around my birthday, I like to check in on how far I have come. God bless my journal obsessed youth. I have shelves of the books all filled with angst, rage & hope.
I am always so amused at how extremely dramatic I was. Sure I still can flare it up now, but nothing like I used to.
So for your amusement I am going to transcribe my journal entry from December 24, 1995: My 20th Birthday. Try not to hold it against me. I will make some comments in blue.
_____________________
My Birthday. 20. Well. Things were just as they were anticipated. Slow & dull. Birthdays should only be celebrated by little children. That cracks me up.
I woke up and had food being shoved in my face. Thanks for listening people.
I kept having to decline & everyone was being so awkward about it. Just FYI - this was at the height of my eating disorder.
I got some nice things: a wall calendar, a plaid hat and a victoria’s secret card thing from Mom (ew!). Looking back - that was pretty hip of Mom. I should have given her more credit.
Later it was more food. We went to the mall to eat. How glam. Could I be more of a brat?The girl that waited on us went to school with me in the 2nd grade. That made me feel shitty because she was still living in Alabama & I am training in New York. wow. look how the tables have turned.
After dinner Mom & I went to a movie called Speechless. Pretty lame romantic comedy.
Then it was time for, you guessed it: MORE FOOD. I remember being horrified by food.
This family eats so fucking much. No wonder I was such a fatty child. But I was good & tomorrow I am going to go for a run before everyone wakes up. ahhhh…running. Haven’t done that in a while.
& I found out that L. smokes. So that will come in handy.
I am so utterly bored. I feel like I don’t fit in with my family anymore. Everything that someone does has started to annoy the shit out of me!!! I! can! tell! GM & GF seem so racist not sure what this was about, & L. is so pathetic. Mom is really getting on my nerves. She so wants to be RIGHT THERE in my life that I feel like she is stepping on my heels and making me slow down. I’m sick of her singing along to every fucking song on the radio she still does this & I now think it is adorable, I’m sick of her talking through movies I have trained her not to do this anymore. & she keeps saying dumb things like, “Well YOU would never accept that kind of role.” I think she is so out of touch with her own life that she is making my life the focus. I had a LOT of issues at this time also because my Mom had just been diagnosed with MS and had started her manic depressive therapy. I’ve only been in fucking Alabama for 3 days and it is driving me crazy! I hear ya, sister.
How you look at things
See I could say that I haven’t gotten a positive test, YET. Instead of saying this morning’s test was negative.
But I’m getting ready to say goodbye to Pollyana & hello to Merlot.
In 3 hours I will be officially “late”. Woo Hoo! Where’s my party?
But here is a quasi detailed account of this morning’s activities to showcase my last ditch effort of postitivity:
Woke up & shoved thermometer in mouth
Said a bazillion our Father’s as I waited for the beep beep
Got a beautiful rush of, “Wheeeee!” when I saw that the temp was still in the ‘UP’ range
Dashed to the bathroom & did a quick undies check: all clear
Opened secret cabinet where hpt’s live
Discovered the cabinet was empty
FREAKED
realized that if I didn’t pee right then that I would have a bit of a mess
peed (in toilet. duh)
in mid stream realized where a box could be stashed
exercised amazing keigel strength and clinched my way to other cabinet
ripped open box
keigel strength was not what it should have been
missed my FMU (first morning urine to those non junkies out there)
realized box of hpt’s was actually one of those digital numbers
FREAKED
(a digital result seems sooo final. Couldn’t face that yet.)
managed to tinkle a bit on an OPK…enough to realize that today was a -
went to Winn Dixie in PJ’s (oh yes I did! They love me there.)
bought three different brands of hpt’s
AND these breathe right strips that have saved my life (seriously - I slept all night! I could breathe!)
Now wondering when I can pee again in case this am’s didn’t count
but I kind of think it did
& even though I dreamed that Gwyneth Paltrow & I had combo baby showers
I don’t think I am knocked up.
Would love for the universe to prove me wrong.
Happy Winter Solstice
I could barely sleep last night what with all the breathing issues. I’d get one nostril unplugged but then an awful nose whistle would sound as the air tried to work its way around a hard, stiff boogie. So then I would blow my nose but then the other nostril would get clogged up worse.
I will confess that I am the sort of nose blower that likes to examine what is coming out. Well after days and days of this mess I am no longer charmed by my own excretions. But I am beginning to worry as the shade of green is starting to deepen & at around 3am this morning each nose blow was accompanied by a chunk of blood.
Sorry for grossing anybody out, but for all the vagina talk around here I think you guys can take some cold talk.
Except I am worried that it may not be a cold. Last night I found out that my cousin has strep. & while I did have a day or so of an awful sore throat, now I think it is only sore because of all the mouth breathing.
I suppose you wonder if I managed to pee on anything exciting this morning in the midst of all my boogie examining. & the answer is yes. & according to EPT I am not pregnant.
It is still a bit early, I’m not even late or anything, but I had this hope that I would be one of those lucky ducks who found out early.
Plus it is Winter Solstice & that would have made it even more groovy & exciting.
There is a fertility ritual that started in Romania that is observed on this day. A woman follows her husband around the orchard, kneading dough in her hands. As the husband approaches a dry, wintered apple tree he threatens to cut it down. But the wife recites, “Oh no, I am sure that this tree will be as heavy with fruit next spring as my fingers are with dough this day.”
Kinda hot, right?
Anyhow, my Winter Solstice ritual is going to be called the ‘Word Verification Oracle”.
Here’s how you play:
If & when you decide to leave a lovely comment please also include your word verification
You are free to decipher the code or allow it to speak for itself.
Please meditate on the question, “Is Calliope knocked up?” as you type.
The precise time of this year’s Winter Solstice will be at 1:35pm EST
Juno
Juno was the Roman goddess of marriage, home & childbirth. She was known as Uni to the Etruscans & Hera to the Greeks. She was the wife of Jupiter and the mother of Mars.
She is said to have ruled time, womanhood, femininity, breezes, menstrual cycles, new beginnings, and all aspects of the lives of women.
Some call her the Queen of the Universe
_____________________________________________
I still can’t shake this cold/flu/bug/whatever. It is now lodged inside my head. And in addition to the lovely boogies & snot it is kicking my ass with tiredness*. (* note that I do not say ‘fatigue’ b/c I don’t want you all to think “ooooh!” SYMPTOM! I just have a cold/bug/whatever)
I had a dream last night that somebody on the message boards wanted thoughts on a name they were considering for a child. The name was my IRL name & it was killing me not to post something like, “back off! that’s MY name!” But instead, in the dream, I watched as all these messages popped up talking about what a cool name it was. It was a surreal dream as it felt a bit narcissistic even as I was in it. But when I woke up I felt kind of panicked - like somebody WAS going to use my name. & that pissed me off. Nuts, right?
Nothing like waking up pissed and snotty and then shoving a thermometer in your mouth but knowing that the temp will be off because you had to sleep with your mouth open all fucking night because you couldn’t breathe and what does it matter becuase you aren’t pregnant anyway?
I’m starting that pep talk today too. The “you probably aren’t pregnant so just don’t get your hopes up” talk. Blowing up the balloon that will catch me when I fall. I know that positive visualization can be a good tool, etc. But at this point I am much more familiar with not being pregnant than the alternative. I know how to polish & ready the emotional armor. I know how to start whispering soothing things to myself. I know how to hold my breath and pray the fastest prayer in the world every time I pee.
The fucked up variable that I may have issues this time is the holiday factor. It is a mystery key in my emotional equation making. Will it square or cube my sorrow?
So far it is something like this:
a=not pregnant
b= turning 30
c=Christmas (squared because my Grandfather is dead)
d= shame/sorrow/depression
b+c2 x a = d
I’m so fucking screwed.
-
-
Great Hosting By:
