This incensed me beyond all belief! The government has some fucking nerve opening private correspondence under the guise of "Homeland Security". And don't come at me with that pseudo-patriotic bullshit about how we all have to make sacrifices to keep our country safer. I'm willing to wait in a 2 hour long security line at the airport, just to be screened by totally inept and completely underpaid screeners who think that I can hijack a fucking 757 with my nail clippers, I don't mind that at all. Or being screened at any public venue-that's cool with me. But, when you start opening and reading people's mail just on the really off-hand chance that Al-Qaida is sending love letters to sleeper cells, then buddy, you've gone too far. I'm already supremely pissed that what I've suspected all along about the government spying on us without cause has now been proven true, but this is just icing on my cake. Maybe those guys who believe in the "black helicopters" were right all along?
I don't know if I can take another 3 years of this shit!!!! Arrrrrgggghhhhh!!!! (Excuse me while my head explodes in rage....)
Monday, January 09, 2006
Thursday, January 05, 2006
This Post Is Brought To You By The Letter "C"
As in a COLD. As in, despite my repeatedly telling my co-workers and hubby that I can not afford to get sick, the assholes germinated me anyway. So, here I sit, with a head full of nasty gunk, while trying to resist the urge to drill a hold in my skull to relieve the pressure. Also, since I can't breathe through my nose, I'm sitting around with my mouth hanging open, looking something like this. Not very attractive, Muriel. Needless to say, this craptastic cold has left me drained, and as such, I have been neglecting my blogging duties. Hang with me, folks, hopefully I'll be back to my not-so-normal self soon.
PS: Here's a topic for you to mull over while I recover: With the (most likely) imminent death of Israeli PM Ariel Sharon looming on the horizon, and a new leadership currently in place, what will this mean for the Israeli/Palestinian peace process? Discuss.
PPS: How cool is it that my hero, Jon Stewart, will be hosting the Oscars?! Very cool, indeed.
PS: Here's a topic for you to mull over while I recover: With the (most likely) imminent death of Israeli PM Ariel Sharon looming on the horizon, and a new leadership currently in place, what will this mean for the Israeli/Palestinian peace process? Discuss.
PPS: How cool is it that my hero, Jon Stewart, will be hosting the Oscars?! Very cool, indeed.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Can I Get A Secular AMEN?!
Below is an op-ed piece in the commentary section of my local independent newspaper the Oklahoma Gazette [www.okgazette.com]. It truly expresses how I feel about this whole "War on Christmas" debacle. Read it, digest, enjoy.
The Grinch who couldn't steal Christmas
By: Robin Meyers
Maybe you've missed it because you don't watch Kelly Ogle, Bill O'Reilly or "The 700 Club, " but the big news isn't the war in Iraq. It's the "war against Christmas."
The Grinch who would steal it is the American Civil Liberties Union. The barbarians at the gate of all things holy and sacred and necessary for the survival of Western civilization are secular humansists. They are on manger patrol. They are out looking for tablets with the Ten Commandments to smash and haul away - ironically, most of which are now left over Hollywood PR stunts for Cecil B. DeMille.
While a real war is killing and maiming, about which the president has now been forced to tell "half the truth so help him God, " the Christian right has invented its latest fake war to rally the troops and raise money. O'Reilly's "fair and balanced" fake news network recently ran 58 segments on the latest outrage from the "lunatic left," and not a single one on the genocide in Darfur. People in that hellhole are not so much interested in whether it's "Happy Holidays" or Merry Christmas." They are trying to keep their heads from being chopped off.
Meanwhile, back at the Entitled American Ranch, the Christmas that is reportedly under siege has now passed, and it was bigger and more pervasive than ever - perhaps dangerously so. In countless churches, in countless homes, around countless Christmas trees that were called just that, people wished each other "Merry Christmas, " and they worshiped the baby Jesus, and they gave each other expensive gifts to honor the birth of a penniless rabbi from Nazareth who talked more about the spiritual hazards of wealth than anything else, save the kingdom of God.
But as they sipped their eggnog, safe in a land with more religious freedom than anywhere else on earth, they fumed about the "war on Christmas." They did what every true Christian is supposed to do - make and keep an enemies list. They poured each other a big cup of despair and fed each other the cookies of persecution. "Woe are we" - the embattled, the last best hope to save the world from people who don't even believe hell.
What they have forgotten, or can't understand because they believe in the principle of "my majority rules" (as long as I'm in it), is that the ACLU, whose only client is the Constitution, is their friend, not their enemy. When they get picky about compulsory prayer in schools, or religious artifacts on public property, or sectarian prayers at sporting events where a captive and diverse audience did not come to worship or hear such prayers (and whose rights also matter), they are not being anti-religion, nor are they trying to "steal Christmas."
In fact, those who work to preserve the separation of church and state are the most important ally we have in the fight to preserve religious freedom. It may seem ridiculous sometimes, but all one has to do is consider the alternative - an American theocracy that is the Holy Grail of today's True Believers. The are within striking distance, and they know it - that is, as soon as they get rid of those judges who do not rule according to "biblical law," those "vermin in black robes."
Besides, in the end, nothing could be more unbiblical than to buttress the revolutionary ways of Jesus with the scaffolding of the state. The baby whose birth we just celebrated grew up to be an adult who saved his white hot anger for religious hypocrisy - those who argued over every jot and title of the law, but neglected to give a thirsty child a cup of cold water to drink.
If you really want to "save Christmas," then bring the manger home from the mall, and set it up in your heart. Feed the homeless, welcome the stranger and pray for your enemies - the ones you believe are already forgiven. If you do this, Christmas will not seem embattled at all. Just irresistible.
Meyers is minister of Mayflower Congregational UCC Church and professor of rhetoric at Oklahoma City University.
The Grinch who couldn't steal Christmas
By: Robin Meyers
Maybe you've missed it because you don't watch Kelly Ogle, Bill O'Reilly or "The 700 Club, " but the big news isn't the war in Iraq. It's the "war against Christmas."
The Grinch who would steal it is the American Civil Liberties Union. The barbarians at the gate of all things holy and sacred and necessary for the survival of Western civilization are secular humansists. They are on manger patrol. They are out looking for tablets with the Ten Commandments to smash and haul away - ironically, most of which are now left over Hollywood PR stunts for Cecil B. DeMille.
While a real war is killing and maiming, about which the president has now been forced to tell "half the truth so help him God, " the Christian right has invented its latest fake war to rally the troops and raise money. O'Reilly's "fair and balanced" fake news network recently ran 58 segments on the latest outrage from the "lunatic left," and not a single one on the genocide in Darfur. People in that hellhole are not so much interested in whether it's "Happy Holidays" or Merry Christmas." They are trying to keep their heads from being chopped off.
Meanwhile, back at the Entitled American Ranch, the Christmas that is reportedly under siege has now passed, and it was bigger and more pervasive than ever - perhaps dangerously so. In countless churches, in countless homes, around countless Christmas trees that were called just that, people wished each other "Merry Christmas, " and they worshiped the baby Jesus, and they gave each other expensive gifts to honor the birth of a penniless rabbi from Nazareth who talked more about the spiritual hazards of wealth than anything else, save the kingdom of God.
But as they sipped their eggnog, safe in a land with more religious freedom than anywhere else on earth, they fumed about the "war on Christmas." They did what every true Christian is supposed to do - make and keep an enemies list. They poured each other a big cup of despair and fed each other the cookies of persecution. "Woe are we" - the embattled, the last best hope to save the world from people who don't even believe hell.
What they have forgotten, or can't understand because they believe in the principle of "my majority rules" (as long as I'm in it), is that the ACLU, whose only client is the Constitution, is their friend, not their enemy. When they get picky about compulsory prayer in schools, or religious artifacts on public property, or sectarian prayers at sporting events where a captive and diverse audience did not come to worship or hear such prayers (and whose rights also matter), they are not being anti-religion, nor are they trying to "steal Christmas."
In fact, those who work to preserve the separation of church and state are the most important ally we have in the fight to preserve religious freedom. It may seem ridiculous sometimes, but all one has to do is consider the alternative - an American theocracy that is the Holy Grail of today's True Believers. The are within striking distance, and they know it - that is, as soon as they get rid of those judges who do not rule according to "biblical law," those "vermin in black robes."
Besides, in the end, nothing could be more unbiblical than to buttress the revolutionary ways of Jesus with the scaffolding of the state. The baby whose birth we just celebrated grew up to be an adult who saved his white hot anger for religious hypocrisy - those who argued over every jot and title of the law, but neglected to give a thirsty child a cup of cold water to drink.
If you really want to "save Christmas," then bring the manger home from the mall, and set it up in your heart. Feed the homeless, welcome the stranger and pray for your enemies - the ones you believe are already forgiven. If you do this, Christmas will not seem embattled at all. Just irresistible.
Meyers is minister of Mayflower Congregational UCC Church and professor of rhetoric at Oklahoma City University.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
The Post In Which I Become An Ungrateful Whiner
I grew up dirt poor, and as such, am usually quite grateful for any gift I receive. I never expect anyone to go out and spend their hard earned cash me, and I generally appreciate it when someone actually does. I also love to give gifts. Birthdays, holidays, any occasion at all. I just enjoy giving happiness to others through my carefully selected gifts. See, I'm the kind of person who will really think about the person I'm buying a gift for: their likes, dislikes, personal style, that sort of thing. I try to buy the most thoughtful gift I can on my limited budget, and most people really appreciate the effort. I do this by carefully paying attention to what others say that they need/want and file that information away for later. I also pay attention to the style and decor of my friend's and family's homes, so that I don't buy something they would never use. It's not always easy, but I do my best.
So, considering how much thought and effort I put into selecting gifts for my family and friends, it boggles my mind when they cannot do the same in turn. It's not that I'm hard to buy for, I'm not. I'm a Wal-Mart kind of gal, so I'm extremely low-maintenance, and I don't think that gift cards are chintzy gifts to give. I really do like 95% of the gifts I receive, I promise!
However, the gifts that came (belatedly) in the mail yesterday from my brother-in-law and his wife were not exactly what my husband or I expected. It looks as though we received some random gifts that you would give to someone you don't know well, or hell, I don't know, maybe they thought the gifts were cool. We received: 2 "squishy" small bolster pillows with this soft, fuzzy cover (which are quite comfortable), a 7 in 1 game set that still had the $6.99 price tag on it, a tango themed cutlery set from Buenos Aries (from their South American trip last year), a book light (which I actually liked a lot, since I'm a voracious reader), a ceramic, painted mask (which I hate-masks creep me out, and it looked like it came from the dollar store), and some chocolate Euro-coin shaped candies (which are over a year old-from their trip to Europe last year). It's almost like they looked around their house, found some random stuff from their travels, plus a couple of quickly purchased gifts and shipped them off. I know, I know...I'm being an ungrateful bitch. But this is the millionth time I have taken MONTHS to carefully select and purchase their gifts, while spending more than I should, only to be burned in return. And it's not like they are poor, or struggling. My brother-in-law's salary is three times than what Jake and I make together in a year's time, and he owns several properties, while we only rent a duplex. I know it's supposed to be the thought that counts, but that's just it....I thought about their gifts, and they thought nothing about ours. I think it hurt my hubby's feelings, and he said to me "I told you not to spend money on them!". Jake had me order a custom made hoodie for he and his brother with their last names on them, because he thought it was really cool, and it is. So, for his brother to be so thoughtless stings a bit.
The other thing that annoyed me was that once again, for the millionth time, they misspelled my name. My name is spelled N-A-T-A-L-E-E, not I-E, which I know is the customary spelling, but that's not how my mother chose to spell it. I have been with my husband for over 10 years. In that time, I have sent countless cards and packages with my name spelled properly to my BIL and his wife. You'd think, in all that time, at some point, that they'd notice how my name is spelled. I've even teased it my BIL about it. I mean come on! I'm thinking of deliberately misspelling their names from now on, until they get the hint. Although knowing them, they won't.
Please don't think I don't love my in-laws, I do. Well, to be more honest, I love my BIL like he's my own brother, but my SIL? Eh....she's nice and all, but she gets on my nerves. She's a likeable gal, but do I love her? Not so much. Despite that, because she is married to my beloved BIL, I treat her with the utmost kindness and respect, and spend just as equally on her as I do for him. It's not her fault that she grates on my nerves, that's just her personality, and I'm not going to penalize her for it.
Ok, enough bitching and whining for now. Trust me, this is the only place where I'll be expressing this opinion. I would never say anything to them directly, or to any other family member about it, so as not to hurt their feelings. But damn it, I just had to express it somewhere, and since this is my blog, and no one in my family knows about it, this is where I'll say it! And um, seeing as how no one at all really reads my blog, I'm thinking I'm safe, no?
Well, here's hoping your Christmas was merrier than mine!
So, considering how much thought and effort I put into selecting gifts for my family and friends, it boggles my mind when they cannot do the same in turn. It's not that I'm hard to buy for, I'm not. I'm a Wal-Mart kind of gal, so I'm extremely low-maintenance, and I don't think that gift cards are chintzy gifts to give. I really do like 95% of the gifts I receive, I promise!
However, the gifts that came (belatedly) in the mail yesterday from my brother-in-law and his wife were not exactly what my husband or I expected. It looks as though we received some random gifts that you would give to someone you don't know well, or hell, I don't know, maybe they thought the gifts were cool. We received: 2 "squishy" small bolster pillows with this soft, fuzzy cover (which are quite comfortable), a 7 in 1 game set that still had the $6.99 price tag on it, a tango themed cutlery set from Buenos Aries (from their South American trip last year), a book light (which I actually liked a lot, since I'm a voracious reader), a ceramic, painted mask (which I hate-masks creep me out, and it looked like it came from the dollar store), and some chocolate Euro-coin shaped candies (which are over a year old-from their trip to Europe last year). It's almost like they looked around their house, found some random stuff from their travels, plus a couple of quickly purchased gifts and shipped them off. I know, I know...I'm being an ungrateful bitch. But this is the millionth time I have taken MONTHS to carefully select and purchase their gifts, while spending more than I should, only to be burned in return. And it's not like they are poor, or struggling. My brother-in-law's salary is three times than what Jake and I make together in a year's time, and he owns several properties, while we only rent a duplex. I know it's supposed to be the thought that counts, but that's just it....I thought about their gifts, and they thought nothing about ours. I think it hurt my hubby's feelings, and he said to me "I told you not to spend money on them!". Jake had me order a custom made hoodie for he and his brother with their last names on them, because he thought it was really cool, and it is. So, for his brother to be so thoughtless stings a bit.
The other thing that annoyed me was that once again, for the millionth time, they misspelled my name. My name is spelled N-A-T-A-L-E-E, not I-E, which I know is the customary spelling, but that's not how my mother chose to spell it. I have been with my husband for over 10 years. In that time, I have sent countless cards and packages with my name spelled properly to my BIL and his wife. You'd think, in all that time, at some point, that they'd notice how my name is spelled. I've even teased it my BIL about it. I mean come on! I'm thinking of deliberately misspelling their names from now on, until they get the hint. Although knowing them, they won't.
Please don't think I don't love my in-laws, I do. Well, to be more honest, I love my BIL like he's my own brother, but my SIL? Eh....she's nice and all, but she gets on my nerves. She's a likeable gal, but do I love her? Not so much. Despite that, because she is married to my beloved BIL, I treat her with the utmost kindness and respect, and spend just as equally on her as I do for him. It's not her fault that she grates on my nerves, that's just her personality, and I'm not going to penalize her for it.
Ok, enough bitching and whining for now. Trust me, this is the only place where I'll be expressing this opinion. I would never say anything to them directly, or to any other family member about it, so as not to hurt their feelings. But damn it, I just had to express it somewhere, and since this is my blog, and no one in my family knows about it, this is where I'll say it! And um, seeing as how no one at all really reads my blog, I'm thinking I'm safe, no?
Well, here's hoping your Christmas was merrier than mine!
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Always the Bridesmaid...
....never the mother. Ok, so that didn't exactly make sense, but I couldn't think of a better analogy.
I belong to a support group for those suffering from primary infertility. I've been a member of this group for almost 4 years now. In that time, I've seen many women come and go, most by successfully achieving their dreams of motherhood, either through ART or adoption. However, there are a few of us "core" ladies who have been unfortunate enough to still be around, even after all of these years. Some of these women have been on this board much longer than I, and I've always hoped for the best for them.
Today, I found out that two of these women received positive betas from their recent ART cycles. These are women with whom I have shared my ups and downs with during this long, painful "journey" (I hate that word) of infertility, and I consider them to be my friends. So, of course I was happy to read of their success, and I hope that their pregnancies result in beautiful, healthy children. However, I can also admit that my joy is greatly tinged with bitterness, jealousy, and sadness for myself. Most of the women on the board are currently undergoing treatment or are in the process of adoption, and here I am, stuck always in perpetual limbo. I feel like I will never get to get on that horse and ride off into the sunset with my baby. I'm now three months away from hitting the 7 year mark of TTC. For fuck's sake, if Jake and I didn't have infertility issues, we could have a 6 year old by now!!! Do you have any idea how painful that is for me to think of that?!? When is it my turn?! I'm sick and fucking tired of waiting; waiting for money, for insurance, for jobs, so that we can finally pursue our goals of parenthood. I don't have TIME to wait!!!
Jake and I sat around Christmas Day, after everyone left, and were both filled with sadness that yet another holiday had gone by without our own children. I enjoyed watching my foster sisters, nephew and niece rip into their presents, but I want to see MY kids doing that. It is so fucking hard to endure this year, after year, after year. Every Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas comes and goes without my child. I hate seeing my husband and I so sad during what should be some of the happiest times with our families. We want to make a family of our own, and we can't. And that sucks so damn bad, that unless you've gone through this yourself, you'll never know what I'm talking about.
Excuse me while I go and mend my broken heart once again.....
I belong to a support group for those suffering from primary infertility. I've been a member of this group for almost 4 years now. In that time, I've seen many women come and go, most by successfully achieving their dreams of motherhood, either through ART or adoption. However, there are a few of us "core" ladies who have been unfortunate enough to still be around, even after all of these years. Some of these women have been on this board much longer than I, and I've always hoped for the best for them.
Today, I found out that two of these women received positive betas from their recent ART cycles. These are women with whom I have shared my ups and downs with during this long, painful "journey" (I hate that word) of infertility, and I consider them to be my friends. So, of course I was happy to read of their success, and I hope that their pregnancies result in beautiful, healthy children. However, I can also admit that my joy is greatly tinged with bitterness, jealousy, and sadness for myself. Most of the women on the board are currently undergoing treatment or are in the process of adoption, and here I am, stuck always in perpetual limbo. I feel like I will never get to get on that horse and ride off into the sunset with my baby. I'm now three months away from hitting the 7 year mark of TTC. For fuck's sake, if Jake and I didn't have infertility issues, we could have a 6 year old by now!!! Do you have any idea how painful that is for me to think of that?!? When is it my turn?! I'm sick and fucking tired of waiting; waiting for money, for insurance, for jobs, so that we can finally pursue our goals of parenthood. I don't have TIME to wait!!!
Jake and I sat around Christmas Day, after everyone left, and were both filled with sadness that yet another holiday had gone by without our own children. I enjoyed watching my foster sisters, nephew and niece rip into their presents, but I want to see MY kids doing that. It is so fucking hard to endure this year, after year, after year. Every Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas comes and goes without my child. I hate seeing my husband and I so sad during what should be some of the happiest times with our families. We want to make a family of our own, and we can't. And that sucks so damn bad, that unless you've gone through this yourself, you'll never know what I'm talking about.
Excuse me while I go and mend my broken heart once again.....
Friday, December 23, 2005
Happy Christmahanukwanzakah! (and New Year)
Just wanting to wish you and yours the best this Holiday Season. Yes, I'm saying HOLIDAY, not CHRISTMAS, because I do have friends and family who are not Christian (including myself), so I'm being all-inclusive, not PC. However, I DO call my tree a Christmas tree, because that's the holiday I'm putting it up for.
Anyway, enough of that rant! So, have a great one (but be safe, ok?), whatever it is you celebrate, and I'll see you all next year!
And I pinky swear to post more in '06!
Hugs,
Nat
PS: Karen, if you're reading this: Hello! And thanks for stopping by!
Anyway, enough of that rant! So, have a great one (but be safe, ok?), whatever it is you celebrate, and I'll see you all next year!
And I pinky swear to post more in '06!
Hugs,
Nat
PS: Karen, if you're reading this: Hello! And thanks for stopping by!
Thursday, September 01, 2005
What's New Pussycat? (Whoa, whoa, whoooa!!)
Well, not much here, to be honest. School started on August 22nd, and my crazy ass is taking 17 hours this semester. So far it's not that bad, except for one of my online classes, and that's only because the professor is being kind of a dick, which according to my SIL (who took his class 3 years ago), is not unusual. Oh well, it's just 16 weeks of my life, right? And, it always goes by rather quickly, so hopefully it will be over and done with before I know it, and then it's on to Winter Break and then Spring semester, where I'll probably only take 12-15 hours, so it won't be so harsh. I find Fall semester to be easier because there are more breaks (Labor Day, Fall Break, Thanksgiving Break), whereas Spring only has 1-Spring break, so I'd rather take a heavier class load in fall.
My classes:
* Intro to Algebra (yes, I suck at math and have to take a zero level remedial)
* Philosophy
* Elementary Astronomy
* American Government
* Intro to Speech
So, that makes for an interesting mix. Nothing too boring, although my Speech prof. does have a tendency to go on too long, but hey, that's what the guy is getting paid to do, so I listen!
On the infertility front, despite a reluctance on both our parts to go the adoption route before trying ART, Jake and I are actually now having good, open conversations about it (which HE initiated...believe it or not!). It's just discussions right now, and of course I flip-flop back and forth between it and ART, but a lot of that has to do with some unresolved grief related to infertility. We have a long way to go before we are ready to really get serious about it (like, gee...maybe graduating and getting good jobs for instance!), but we already know we want to go the International route. I'm thinking Guatamala or the Ukraine, although China is also an option. Anyway, if anything more comes up about that or ART, I'll let you guys know.
We still only have 1 working car right now, and because of that, and school, I've had to cut back on my work schedule by 5 hrs/wk, causing me to slip to part-time, and be taken off of salary and getting paid hourly, though I get to keep my benefits, which is good. This majorly sucks because it has the potential for reducing my income by up to $155/check. Sometimes it won't be that bad, but at least twice between now and the end of the year I'll be stressing thanks to money. Compounding our problems is the rising gas prices. Jake has a delivery job at night, and it's getting so that he's making no money because it's all going in the tank, making it worthless to even go in, except that he also gets hourly pay, and that helps some with bills. And before you say, "Why doesn't he get a better job?", let me tell you that he has TRIED, and he already has a 2nd job doing IT stuff at my office part-time. But, until he graduates, there's not much he can do, unfortunately. I'm going to jump on my soapbox here for a minute to remind everyone out there that when you order food for delivery, this is a SERVICE, and you should compensate the driver for making your life easier. He/she is using THEIR GAS to bring YOU goods so that YOU can save YOUR GAS. I don't care if your pizza was late (which, BTW is usually NOT the driver's fault!), give the delivery person a tip at least equal to or greater than a gallon of gas! One or two dollars does not cut it. If you don't like it, get off your ass and go get your own Pizza/Chinese/Whatever. Ok, rant over now!! Just needed to vent a minute because bad tippers piss me off!!! Oh, and one last thing...Just FYI...that delivery charge the pizza parlor charges you? It doesn't go to the driver, or at least, not all of it...maybe only a fraction does.
Oh! Before I forget...I'm back on the pill for now. For the endo. Last month I had horrendous cramps which caused me to have an unscheduled date with the dildocam, which of course showed NOTHING because you can rarely see endo on a u/s, even a transvaginal one. So, we decided to give the pills one last go before moving on to a lap, and my period this month was much lighter, and I only had small, manageable cramps. No narcotics needed. Although, I'm so scatterbrained about taking medications on time that I had to set my cell phone alarm to remind me when to take them everyday. Gotta do what you gotta do!
Whew! Guess that's it for now. I'll post about the tragedy of Katrina later, it's my bedtime.
TTFN*!!!
*ta ta for now!! (as Tigger says)
My classes:
* Intro to Algebra (yes, I suck at math and have to take a zero level remedial)
* Philosophy
* Elementary Astronomy
* American Government
* Intro to Speech
So, that makes for an interesting mix. Nothing too boring, although my Speech prof. does have a tendency to go on too long, but hey, that's what the guy is getting paid to do, so I listen!
On the infertility front, despite a reluctance on both our parts to go the adoption route before trying ART, Jake and I are actually now having good, open conversations about it (which HE initiated...believe it or not!). It's just discussions right now, and of course I flip-flop back and forth between it and ART, but a lot of that has to do with some unresolved grief related to infertility. We have a long way to go before we are ready to really get serious about it (like, gee...maybe graduating and getting good jobs for instance!), but we already know we want to go the International route. I'm thinking Guatamala or the Ukraine, although China is also an option. Anyway, if anything more comes up about that or ART, I'll let you guys know.
We still only have 1 working car right now, and because of that, and school, I've had to cut back on my work schedule by 5 hrs/wk, causing me to slip to part-time, and be taken off of salary and getting paid hourly, though I get to keep my benefits, which is good. This majorly sucks because it has the potential for reducing my income by up to $155/check. Sometimes it won't be that bad, but at least twice between now and the end of the year I'll be stressing thanks to money. Compounding our problems is the rising gas prices. Jake has a delivery job at night, and it's getting so that he's making no money because it's all going in the tank, making it worthless to even go in, except that he also gets hourly pay, and that helps some with bills. And before you say, "Why doesn't he get a better job?", let me tell you that he has TRIED, and he already has a 2nd job doing IT stuff at my office part-time. But, until he graduates, there's not much he can do, unfortunately. I'm going to jump on my soapbox here for a minute to remind everyone out there that when you order food for delivery, this is a SERVICE, and you should compensate the driver for making your life easier. He/she is using THEIR GAS to bring YOU goods so that YOU can save YOUR GAS. I don't care if your pizza was late (which, BTW is usually NOT the driver's fault!), give the delivery person a tip at least equal to or greater than a gallon of gas! One or two dollars does not cut it. If you don't like it, get off your ass and go get your own Pizza/Chinese/Whatever. Ok, rant over now!! Just needed to vent a minute because bad tippers piss me off!!! Oh, and one last thing...Just FYI...that delivery charge the pizza parlor charges you? It doesn't go to the driver, or at least, not all of it...maybe only a fraction does.
Oh! Before I forget...I'm back on the pill for now. For the endo. Last month I had horrendous cramps which caused me to have an unscheduled date with the dildocam, which of course showed NOTHING because you can rarely see endo on a u/s, even a transvaginal one. So, we decided to give the pills one last go before moving on to a lap, and my period this month was much lighter, and I only had small, manageable cramps. No narcotics needed. Although, I'm so scatterbrained about taking medications on time that I had to set my cell phone alarm to remind me when to take them everyday. Gotta do what you gotta do!
Whew! Guess that's it for now. I'll post about the tragedy of Katrina later, it's my bedtime.
TTFN*!!!
*ta ta for now!! (as Tigger says)
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Losing My Religion
So, I've come to a radical realization (for myself): there is no God, no invisible man in the sky looking down on all we do, controlling the universe as if we were pieces on a chess board.
This is quite a dramatic statement coming from someone who was raised in a Catholic/Southern Baptist enviornment, and in fact, I still collect religious icons, crucifixes, angels, etc. I think there is alot of beautiful religious art out there, but that doesn't mean I have to believe in what it represents.
I didn't come to this realization overnight, nor did I make my decision lightly, it has been coming for quite some time now. I've just slowly, and steadly lost my faith and belief system over the years of my adulthood, and now it has been completely erradicated. Now, I know that alot of people will think that this only because of my infertility. Although that was a contributing factor, it was only one of many. This also does not mean that I think there is something wrong with people who do have a faith or belief system for themselves, be it Christian, Jewish, Hindu, whatever. I know that there can be comfort and solace in religious beliefs, and if that's what you need in your life, I have no problem with that. I just don't need it in mine. Nor do I need judgements from others regarding my decision. I think religion itself is a deeply personal decision and experience that is unique to each individual, even if you have the same belief system as another.
I really haven't shared this decision with many people, because I really don't want to hear any negativity, nor do I think it's most people's business. However, many of those I have told have been supportive, and they respect my decision, although most of them believe I am just going through a "phase" and will eventually return to the bosom of Christianity. I feel no need to disavow them of that notion, I'm guessing they'll eventually figure it out for themselves.
This is quite a dramatic statement coming from someone who was raised in a Catholic/Southern Baptist enviornment, and in fact, I still collect religious icons, crucifixes, angels, etc. I think there is alot of beautiful religious art out there, but that doesn't mean I have to believe in what it represents.
I didn't come to this realization overnight, nor did I make my decision lightly, it has been coming for quite some time now. I've just slowly, and steadly lost my faith and belief system over the years of my adulthood, and now it has been completely erradicated. Now, I know that alot of people will think that this only because of my infertility. Although that was a contributing factor, it was only one of many. This also does not mean that I think there is something wrong with people who do have a faith or belief system for themselves, be it Christian, Jewish, Hindu, whatever. I know that there can be comfort and solace in religious beliefs, and if that's what you need in your life, I have no problem with that. I just don't need it in mine. Nor do I need judgements from others regarding my decision. I think religion itself is a deeply personal decision and experience that is unique to each individual, even if you have the same belief system as another.
I really haven't shared this decision with many people, because I really don't want to hear any negativity, nor do I think it's most people's business. However, many of those I have told have been supportive, and they respect my decision, although most of them believe I am just going through a "phase" and will eventually return to the bosom of Christianity. I feel no need to disavow them of that notion, I'm guessing they'll eventually figure it out for themselves.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
A Poem
Here's a poem I wrote a couple of years ago that I thought you all might enjoy:
Vent
Desperate
Hopeless
I feel such a loss
Waiting
Wanting
Pleading
Questions never answered
The cruelty of circumstance stings my eyes
Fills them with tears
So many shed
Empty wombs and empty arms feel heavy with grief
Envious stares towards those who have what I don’t
Keep the dream alive
Or give up the fight
The battle rages in my mind
Your clumsy attempts at comfort are not the soothing gestures you mean
Inadvertently twisting the knife further into my heart
I reach out into a quiet dark
Seeking those like me
Feeding from their words
Like a long starved thing
The medicine man fills me with his potions
Promises of success
Raising expectations
Two weeks is an eternity
How much more can I endure
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
In Memoriam
On this day, ten years ago, I awoke to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window, and my mother's voice calling me to get up. At this point in my life, I had dropped out of high school to care for her after major back surgery, as she could not care for herself. Mom had a 9 a.m. appointment at Social Security in the Murrah Federal Building downtown. We were going to see if she could qualify for temporary SSI disability payments, as there was no way she would be working anytime soon.
By 8:45, my perpetually late mother was still not ready to go, and so she called her SS caseworker to let her know we were going to be late. The lady told her that was ok, that she was helping someone else at the moment and was running behind herself. I was dreading driving downtown that day-I hated the traffic, one-way streets, and trying to find a metered parking spot. I had planned on dropping Mother off at the front of the building, and then cruising around until I found a parking space. Meanwhile, my stepdad, who was a vending route driver for Coca-Cola, was supposed to be at his account in the Journal Record building, directly across the street from the Murrah Building. Instead, he chose to take care of his routes on the north side of OKC before heading downtown. He too, was waiting for the morning traffic to die down.
At 9:02 a.m., on that beautiful, cloudless morning, just before leaving the house, we heard what sounded like a huge rumble of thunder, and our windows shook (for reference: we lived 20 miles from the blast). I looked outside, to see if there were any clouds, but there was nothing to be seen. We had the t.v. on, and suddenly there was a breaking news report that there had been an explosion (we thought natural gas at the time) at the Murrah Building. Mom and I were flabbergasted-we should have been there. My dad, at the time of the blast, was on a payphone with his boss. First, through the phone, and then through the air, he heard the explosion. When he found out on the radio that it was the Murrah Bldg., he was panic stricken, thinking that my mother and I were hurt, of course, we thought he was in the Journal Record building and that he could be injured as well. The phones lines were all tied up, so we couldn't reach each other. My dad finally raced home just in case we were there, or if my brother (who was home sick) knew when we had left. It was with a great relief that we found that we were all ok. However, one of my dad's co-worker's was not so lucky. His wife, a nurse, rushed to the scene to be of assistance. While searching for survivors in the rubble, a piece of concrete fell from above, and struck her in the head, killing her. She left behind four children. My mother's caseworker was also killed.
168 innocent people, including several children in a daycare center, would perish that day. Those who survived carry the physical, mental, and emotional scars to this day. Some sought retribution through the trial, conviction, and execution of Timothy McVeigh. Others sought more peaceful means of resolution. Neither way is right nor wrong.
I am so proud of how my fellow Oklahomans handled themselves in the wake of this enormous tragedy, and I continue to hold that pride ten years later. Everyday I am reminded of that strength and resiliance as I gaze out my office window that overlooks the memorial where the building once stood. I see the "Survivor's Tree", which has become a symbol for us all that even in the face of death, life goes on.
Please take a moment of your time today to remember those lives lost, and send up a prayer, wish, chant, whatever-for those left behind. Thanks.
By 8:45, my perpetually late mother was still not ready to go, and so she called her SS caseworker to let her know we were going to be late. The lady told her that was ok, that she was helping someone else at the moment and was running behind herself. I was dreading driving downtown that day-I hated the traffic, one-way streets, and trying to find a metered parking spot. I had planned on dropping Mother off at the front of the building, and then cruising around until I found a parking space. Meanwhile, my stepdad, who was a vending route driver for Coca-Cola, was supposed to be at his account in the Journal Record building, directly across the street from the Murrah Building. Instead, he chose to take care of his routes on the north side of OKC before heading downtown. He too, was waiting for the morning traffic to die down.
At 9:02 a.m., on that beautiful, cloudless morning, just before leaving the house, we heard what sounded like a huge rumble of thunder, and our windows shook (for reference: we lived 20 miles from the blast). I looked outside, to see if there were any clouds, but there was nothing to be seen. We had the t.v. on, and suddenly there was a breaking news report that there had been an explosion (we thought natural gas at the time) at the Murrah Building. Mom and I were flabbergasted-we should have been there. My dad, at the time of the blast, was on a payphone with his boss. First, through the phone, and then through the air, he heard the explosion. When he found out on the radio that it was the Murrah Bldg., he was panic stricken, thinking that my mother and I were hurt, of course, we thought he was in the Journal Record building and that he could be injured as well. The phones lines were all tied up, so we couldn't reach each other. My dad finally raced home just in case we were there, or if my brother (who was home sick) knew when we had left. It was with a great relief that we found that we were all ok. However, one of my dad's co-worker's was not so lucky. His wife, a nurse, rushed to the scene to be of assistance. While searching for survivors in the rubble, a piece of concrete fell from above, and struck her in the head, killing her. She left behind four children. My mother's caseworker was also killed.
168 innocent people, including several children in a daycare center, would perish that day. Those who survived carry the physical, mental, and emotional scars to this day. Some sought retribution through the trial, conviction, and execution of Timothy McVeigh. Others sought more peaceful means of resolution. Neither way is right nor wrong.
I am so proud of how my fellow Oklahomans handled themselves in the wake of this enormous tragedy, and I continue to hold that pride ten years later. Everyday I am reminded of that strength and resiliance as I gaze out my office window that overlooks the memorial where the building once stood. I see the "Survivor's Tree", which has become a symbol for us all that even in the face of death, life goes on.
Please take a moment of your time today to remember those lives lost, and send up a prayer, wish, chant, whatever-for those left behind. Thanks.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Book Report
As promised, here is a list of children's books that I adore. I either read them now, or read them as a child. Feel free to add your own choices in the comments!
*Harry Potter (can't wait for #5 to come out 7/16!)-J.K. Rowling
*The Thunder Pup-Janet Hickman
*Encyclopedia Brown Series
*Bridge to Terabithia
*Little House on the Prairie Series-Laura Ingalls Wilder
*Hatchet
*Where The Red Fern Grows
*Summer of the Monkeys
*Island of the Blue Dolphins
*The Secret Garden
*Bobbsey Twins Series
*Nancy Drew Series
*Choose Your Own Adventure Series
*Babysitters Club Series
*Anything Judy Blume writes
*The Ramona Series-Beverly Cleary
*Anastasia Krupnik Series
*To Kill A Mockingbird-Harper Lee
*Charlotte's Web-E.B. White
*Little Women-Louisa May Alcott
*Diary of Anne Frank
*Anything written by Lois Lowry
*The Velveteen Rabbit
*Sweet Valley High Series
I'm sure there's much more that I can't think of at the moment, but maybe you can jog my memory. See, my love of books is just one of the reasons I'm going to be a librarian. I can't wait to influence young people to read, and get enjoyment out of the written word.
*Harry Potter (can't wait for #5 to come out 7/16!)-J.K. Rowling
*The Thunder Pup-Janet Hickman
*Encyclopedia Brown Series
*Bridge to Terabithia
*Little House on the Prairie Series-Laura Ingalls Wilder
*Hatchet
*Where The Red Fern Grows
*Summer of the Monkeys
*Island of the Blue Dolphins
*The Secret Garden
*Bobbsey Twins Series
*Nancy Drew Series
*Choose Your Own Adventure Series
*Babysitters Club Series
*Anything Judy Blume writes
*The Ramona Series-Beverly Cleary
*Anastasia Krupnik Series
*To Kill A Mockingbird-Harper Lee
*Charlotte's Web-E.B. White
*Little Women-Louisa May Alcott
*Diary of Anne Frank
*Anything written by Lois Lowry
*The Velveteen Rabbit
*Sweet Valley High Series
I'm sure there's much more that I can't think of at the moment, but maybe you can jog my memory. See, my love of books is just one of the reasons I'm going to be a librarian. I can't wait to influence young people to read, and get enjoyment out of the written word.
Friday, April 08, 2005
Randomness
Some random meanderings for your Friday:
*There is a teeny, tiny, less than 1% chance that I conceived 2 days ago. I'm only saying this because I had some of the best cervical mucus I've had in years, and we had sex twice that night, and once last night, so maybe one my hubby's lil' buggers can finally find their way to my egg. I'm not holding my breath or anything, though.
*I loved Julia's post today, it really got me thinking about my favorite books as a child. I will list them on a separate post, along with a few of my other favorite things.
*I've been soooo tired all day-I can't seem to wake up. TGIF so I can go home and take a nap!
*We're still awaiting final plans for FL, but it looks like we'll be in Tampa, not St. Pete. My BIL is making an offer on a house, and we should know something soon. A bonus: the house has a pool and a hot tub. Oh la la!
*My latest music find: Damien Rice. Fan-Tas-Tic! I heard his song "The Blower's Daughter" while watching "Closer" last night on DVD, and fell in love with his music. So I checked out the rest of the album online, and I am going to buy it. The title of his album is 'O'.
*As much as I love Spring, my allergies are driving me insane. I've had a persistent stuffy nose and dry cough for days. Nothing helps, and I really don't feel like shelling out the money for an allergy shot when benadryl does me good.
*I was disappointed by "Spanglish". While I appreciate the sentiment and acting in the film, the pace was entirely too slow. However, I adore funny Adam Sandler films-he cracks me up!
*It's almost time for our local annual Arts Festival. I can't wait to check out the Art, and enjoy a yummy Strawberry Newport, it's divine!
*Tomorrow I'm getting my eyebrows waxed, and then later we're going bowling with friends. Beer for everyone!
*I'm bored out of my mind right now-can't you tell?
So, what are YOU doing this weekend? Any fun upcoming plans?
*There is a teeny, tiny, less than 1% chance that I conceived 2 days ago. I'm only saying this because I had some of the best cervical mucus I've had in years, and we had sex twice that night, and once last night, so maybe one my hubby's lil' buggers can finally find their way to my egg. I'm not holding my breath or anything, though.
*I loved Julia's post today, it really got me thinking about my favorite books as a child. I will list them on a separate post, along with a few of my other favorite things.
*I've been soooo tired all day-I can't seem to wake up. TGIF so I can go home and take a nap!
*We're still awaiting final plans for FL, but it looks like we'll be in Tampa, not St. Pete. My BIL is making an offer on a house, and we should know something soon. A bonus: the house has a pool and a hot tub. Oh la la!
*My latest music find: Damien Rice. Fan-Tas-Tic! I heard his song "The Blower's Daughter" while watching "Closer" last night on DVD, and fell in love with his music. So I checked out the rest of the album online, and I am going to buy it. The title of his album is 'O'.
*As much as I love Spring, my allergies are driving me insane. I've had a persistent stuffy nose and dry cough for days. Nothing helps, and I really don't feel like shelling out the money for an allergy shot when benadryl does me good.
*I was disappointed by "Spanglish". While I appreciate the sentiment and acting in the film, the pace was entirely too slow. However, I adore funny Adam Sandler films-he cracks me up!
*It's almost time for our local annual Arts Festival. I can't wait to check out the Art, and enjoy a yummy Strawberry Newport, it's divine!
*Tomorrow I'm getting my eyebrows waxed, and then later we're going bowling with friends. Beer for everyone!
*I'm bored out of my mind right now-can't you tell?
So, what are YOU doing this weekend? Any fun upcoming plans?
Monday, March 14, 2005
A Hope and A Prayer
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Yet More Proof That I Am Unworthy By Society's Standards
I haven't posted lately for two reasons: one, I've been really busy between work and school, and two, I've been too fucking depressed. For Pete's sake, I was watching "Kindergarten Cop" on cable the other day and started weeping upon viewing the sweet visages of the little 5 year old actors. I thought "I'll never even have a child to put in kindergarten!". How fucking pathetic is that, I ask you? I don't know why I'm once again going through this grief cycle of depression and thoughts that it will never happen for us. I thought I had got to the point of acceptance, and that it would happen eventually, but apparently not. It breaks my husband's heart to see me cry, especially when there's nothing he can do about it, so I try to hide the tears from him. I know, you're thinking I should share everything with him, and for the most part I do. But, if your husband were the primary cause of your infertility, would you want to further emasculate him by weeping over his inability to get you pregnant? No, I didn't think so. I adore my husband. He is my light, my soul, my breath, and I would never deliberately hurt him, so I bottle it all up.
You want to know what really broke my heart yesterday? Seeing him hold a 4 week old infant girl in his arms, and wishing that was our daughter he was holding so gently. Where's the crystal ball that will let me know when this is going to happen for us?! Six fucking years is too long too wait!!!!
So, yesterday I played "pretend mommy" to the 4 week old I previously mentioned. This baby, along with her sisters are staying with my mother in a foster situation, although we know the family. (For privacy reasons, I can't say more than that.) Anyway, my SIL and I were supposed to run errands together, and she decided to bring the baby along, since my nephew (her son) was going with my mother and the older girls to watch my uncle play baseball. She did call and ask if that was ok first, because she didn't want me to be upset. I was fine with it, and I enjoyed seeing the baby. When we went out, I carried the baby around, since my SIL is 33 weeks pregnant, so of course, everyone assumed she was mine. You wouldn't believe the amount of random strangers who either talked to me or smiled in passing, just because I had a newborn with me. Then, when we went out to eat, our waitress decided to tell us all about her 6 kids. All this, just because people assumed I was in their "Secret Society of Mommies". I seriously doubt any of these people would've given me the time of day had I not had the baby with me. Which is really sad, because I am a pleasant person, and I'm sure I'd have much more in common with these women than motherhood. My SIL was really shocked at the noticeable change in how others treated me, and she thinks it's just as unfair and ridiculous as I do.
Why is it, that just because I don't have a baby, I'm nothing to society? My SIL and I worked out the hierarchy of the Secret Society. It goes like this: Women with Infants, Pregnant Women, Women with Toddlers, Women with Older Children, Women Who Are Just Starting To TTC, Those who are in the Adoption Process, and then Infertiles, like me. Yep, the shit certainly does roll down hill. What the Fuck?! Why can't we all just be WOMEN and be nice and support each other no matter what? The feminist in me does not get this exclusionary attitude.
How about you? Any experiences like these? Or, once you had children, did you notice a change in how others treated you? How did that make you feel? Awaiting your answers....
You want to know what really broke my heart yesterday? Seeing him hold a 4 week old infant girl in his arms, and wishing that was our daughter he was holding so gently. Where's the crystal ball that will let me know when this is going to happen for us?! Six fucking years is too long too wait!!!!
So, yesterday I played "pretend mommy" to the 4 week old I previously mentioned. This baby, along with her sisters are staying with my mother in a foster situation, although we know the family. (For privacy reasons, I can't say more than that.) Anyway, my SIL and I were supposed to run errands together, and she decided to bring the baby along, since my nephew (her son) was going with my mother and the older girls to watch my uncle play baseball. She did call and ask if that was ok first, because she didn't want me to be upset. I was fine with it, and I enjoyed seeing the baby. When we went out, I carried the baby around, since my SIL is 33 weeks pregnant, so of course, everyone assumed she was mine. You wouldn't believe the amount of random strangers who either talked to me or smiled in passing, just because I had a newborn with me. Then, when we went out to eat, our waitress decided to tell us all about her 6 kids. All this, just because people assumed I was in their "Secret Society of Mommies". I seriously doubt any of these people would've given me the time of day had I not had the baby with me. Which is really sad, because I am a pleasant person, and I'm sure I'd have much more in common with these women than motherhood. My SIL was really shocked at the noticeable change in how others treated me, and she thinks it's just as unfair and ridiculous as I do.
Why is it, that just because I don't have a baby, I'm nothing to society? My SIL and I worked out the hierarchy of the Secret Society. It goes like this: Women with Infants, Pregnant Women, Women with Toddlers, Women with Older Children, Women Who Are Just Starting To TTC, Those who are in the Adoption Process, and then Infertiles, like me. Yep, the shit certainly does roll down hill. What the Fuck?! Why can't we all just be WOMEN and be nice and support each other no matter what? The feminist in me does not get this exclusionary attitude.
How about you? Any experiences like these? Or, once you had children, did you notice a change in how others treated you? How did that make you feel? Awaiting your answers....
Sunday, February 27, 2005
What Have I Become?
I realized something about myself today. Something I don't like so much, something that infertility has created. I am secretly an Infertility Nazi. I don't like it when others around me have children, while I still wait for even the chance to conceive mine. I honestly thought I was past that, the jealousy, the envy, the little green monster on my shoulder. I was able to go out in public and see families without crying, although there always was that sense of wistfulness that would fill me...the question of "why not me?".
My beloved sister-in-law, whom I adore, emailed me today because she was having a dilemma. You see, she's due to give birth to my niece in 9 weeks. Her first name has been chosen for some time, but SIL was having problems in choosing her middle name. She had mentioned a couple of times that she loved the name Catherine, but she knew that if I'm ever fortunate enough to have a daughter of my own, that I want to name her Katherine, so she backed off the name, worried about my feelings. Instead, she choose to use her own middle name for the baby. Well, apparatly, she was still very much in love with using Catherine, and she asked several sources, including my husband ,whether or not she should go ahead and use it because unbeknownst to me, she has been in love with name since she was a girl. She so desperately wanted to use this name for her daughter, that she finally emailed me to let me know that she did not want to hurt me in any way, but could she please use the name?
I felt so ashamed. How could I have made her feel like this? Who am I to hog a name for Pete's sake!? Why do I expect those I love to stop procreating, just because I can't? Besides, the spellings would be different, and it wouldn't be my niece's first name. And I would call my daughter Katie or Kate for short anyway. I gave her my blessing (which she felt she needed) to use the name. And I'll admit, I did shed a couple of tears in doing so. But, just a couple.
I hate this feeling of despondency. The feeling that I'll never get to be a mother. I've been in a holding pattern for years and I feel so helpless. I'm genuinely happy for those of my IF friends who have gone on to become mothers. I'm even happy for those who are fertile myrtles. If you want to create a child, and are fortunate enough to do, I'm happy for you. But, I'm also jealous of you. I want to be the one who sees the two pink lines, have morning sickness, back pain, labor. I want to hold my child in my arms, feed her from my breasts, rock her to sleep, and soothe her hurts.
Why have I let my pain block me from experiencing all the joy there is in life? What have I become? Why does my empty uterus rule my every waking thought? The sad thing is, that even if I am fortunate enough to have a child, I'll never really be the old me. Infertility will always be a part of who I am, I will always carry these scars and memories. I will always be a little jaded, a little cautious, and a little jealous. I hate that. I wish I could magically wake up one day and not feel this way, but I can't. There's not a pill I can take, no therapy I can undergo, nothing that will completely heal me.
At what point do we stop grieving what never was or could be? Will I forever feel cheated? Will this hinder me from fully enjoying the experience of motherhood, should I ever have the opportunity? If you have the answers or experience, please, let me know. I'm so weary.
My beloved sister-in-law, whom I adore, emailed me today because she was having a dilemma. You see, she's due to give birth to my niece in 9 weeks. Her first name has been chosen for some time, but SIL was having problems in choosing her middle name. She had mentioned a couple of times that she loved the name Catherine, but she knew that if I'm ever fortunate enough to have a daughter of my own, that I want to name her Katherine, so she backed off the name, worried about my feelings. Instead, she choose to use her own middle name for the baby. Well, apparatly, she was still very much in love with using Catherine, and she asked several sources, including my husband ,whether or not she should go ahead and use it because unbeknownst to me, she has been in love with name since she was a girl. She so desperately wanted to use this name for her daughter, that she finally emailed me to let me know that she did not want to hurt me in any way, but could she please use the name?
I felt so ashamed. How could I have made her feel like this? Who am I to hog a name for Pete's sake!? Why do I expect those I love to stop procreating, just because I can't? Besides, the spellings would be different, and it wouldn't be my niece's first name. And I would call my daughter Katie or Kate for short anyway. I gave her my blessing (which she felt she needed) to use the name. And I'll admit, I did shed a couple of tears in doing so. But, just a couple.
I hate this feeling of despondency. The feeling that I'll never get to be a mother. I've been in a holding pattern for years and I feel so helpless. I'm genuinely happy for those of my IF friends who have gone on to become mothers. I'm even happy for those who are fertile myrtles. If you want to create a child, and are fortunate enough to do, I'm happy for you. But, I'm also jealous of you. I want to be the one who sees the two pink lines, have morning sickness, back pain, labor. I want to hold my child in my arms, feed her from my breasts, rock her to sleep, and soothe her hurts.
Why have I let my pain block me from experiencing all the joy there is in life? What have I become? Why does my empty uterus rule my every waking thought? The sad thing is, that even if I am fortunate enough to have a child, I'll never really be the old me. Infertility will always be a part of who I am, I will always carry these scars and memories. I will always be a little jaded, a little cautious, and a little jealous. I hate that. I wish I could magically wake up one day and not feel this way, but I can't. There's not a pill I can take, no therapy I can undergo, nothing that will completely heal me.
At what point do we stop grieving what never was or could be? Will I forever feel cheated? Will this hinder me from fully enjoying the experience of motherhood, should I ever have the opportunity? If you have the answers or experience, please, let me know. I'm so weary.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
At What Cost?
I'm not a mother, and can not even begin to imagine the heartbreak endured by those who have had to make difficult decisions regarding the health and well being of their child. However, I will say that I found this to be extremely disturbing.
I understand a mother's desperate instinctual need to do everything possible to help her child, but at what cost to the child itself? It seems to me, and this is just my opinion here, that this child has absolutely no chance of survival or any kind of quality of life to look forward to. How can you be a truly loving and selfless mother to allow your child to suffer, just because you believe that your child is "telepathically" informing you of his will to live? It's not just the hospital and doctors treating this child that believe he has no chance, but 40 other medical facilities have concurred with the treating physician's diagnosis. At what point can you come to the realization that you must let your child die a dignified and peaceful death?
I truly admire women like Julia and Tertia who had to make these heartrending decisions regarding their own sons. It was not a decision either of them came to lightly, and they still mourn for their lost babies, despite having since been blessed with other children. Yet, they had the courage and love to let their sons go in a peaceful, thoughtful, and loving way. It was because they were mothers and had no desire to submit their children to a life of pain, that they could make the decision to let them go. Most mothers will tell you they would do anything to keep their child from harm and pain, and that is exactly what Julia and Tertia did.
If you believe that it is against God's will to "pull the plug" on this child, then I don't know what God you worship. My Lord is a loving soul, who does not wish the most innocent of creatures to suffer needlessly. Wouldn't you rather have your child exist in place without pain, in perfect love and peace, instead of selfishly keeping them bound to this plane where they can only know of life of suffering?
Sometimes, the most loving decisions are also the most heartbreaking. I do not mean to judge, as I said, I've never had to be placed in that situation, and pray I never will. But, after reading the stories of women who have made these choices in a dignified manner, I can only wonder what it is that makes someone think in a polar opposite way? If I have offended you, I apologize. I am however, genuinely curious to know your story if you are one who has chosen to prolong your child's life. Let me know where you're coming from, so that I can better understand. Help me to educate myself on both sides of this issue.
I wish peace upon all your hearts....
I understand a mother's desperate instinctual need to do everything possible to help her child, but at what cost to the child itself? It seems to me, and this is just my opinion here, that this child has absolutely no chance of survival or any kind of quality of life to look forward to. How can you be a truly loving and selfless mother to allow your child to suffer, just because you believe that your child is "telepathically" informing you of his will to live? It's not just the hospital and doctors treating this child that believe he has no chance, but 40 other medical facilities have concurred with the treating physician's diagnosis. At what point can you come to the realization that you must let your child die a dignified and peaceful death?
I truly admire women like Julia and Tertia who had to make these heartrending decisions regarding their own sons. It was not a decision either of them came to lightly, and they still mourn for their lost babies, despite having since been blessed with other children. Yet, they had the courage and love to let their sons go in a peaceful, thoughtful, and loving way. It was because they were mothers and had no desire to submit their children to a life of pain, that they could make the decision to let them go. Most mothers will tell you they would do anything to keep their child from harm and pain, and that is exactly what Julia and Tertia did.
If you believe that it is against God's will to "pull the plug" on this child, then I don't know what God you worship. My Lord is a loving soul, who does not wish the most innocent of creatures to suffer needlessly. Wouldn't you rather have your child exist in place without pain, in perfect love and peace, instead of selfishly keeping them bound to this plane where they can only know of life of suffering?
Sometimes, the most loving decisions are also the most heartbreaking. I do not mean to judge, as I said, I've never had to be placed in that situation, and pray I never will. But, after reading the stories of women who have made these choices in a dignified manner, I can only wonder what it is that makes someone think in a polar opposite way? If I have offended you, I apologize. I am however, genuinely curious to know your story if you are one who has chosen to prolong your child's life. Let me know where you're coming from, so that I can better understand. Help me to educate myself on both sides of this issue.
I wish peace upon all your hearts....
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Sweet Dreams
I'm sure many of us have had "the dream". You know, the one where either you're pregnant, or have a baby/child? And when you realize you're dreaming, you never want to wake up, because then you have to face the cold reality of your infertility. Sometimes, upon waking, we cry-our arms and hearts aching with emptiness and loss. These dreams are both wonderful and cruel at the same time, because it gives us a glimpse at the life we so desperately want. We look forward to, yet dread, these inevitable dreams, and all pray that they may someday come true.
Last night I had my first IVF dream. I dreamt that I was going in to transfer 2 embryos, but I had the feeling of dread that they wouldn't implant, but that another woman who was having a transfer that day (that was in the waiting room with me), would be successful. Then, a little voice in my head told me that I would think it didn't work, but that I would have a positive beta. Weird, especially since I'm not even anywhere close to undergoing treatment.
Eh, I'm just gonna blame this on my cold medicine.....
Last night I had my first IVF dream. I dreamt that I was going in to transfer 2 embryos, but I had the feeling of dread that they wouldn't implant, but that another woman who was having a transfer that day (that was in the waiting room with me), would be successful. Then, a little voice in my head told me that I would think it didn't work, but that I would have a positive beta. Weird, especially since I'm not even anywhere close to undergoing treatment.
Eh, I'm just gonna blame this on my cold medicine.....
Monday, February 14, 2005
It's A Valentine's Day Extravaganza!!
Errrrr....or not.
Just thought that since it's been a week since I posted (oh how the time flies when you're infertile!) I have an obligation to my (small, yet wonderful) audience to grace you all with some more random mutterings from my addled mind.
If I've said this once, I've said it a thousand times: I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'm currently in the process of working on getting a lovely sinus infection. Oh the joy! I have no idea why I was born with the world's shittiest immune system, and the steroids that I occasionally have to take for asthma or arthritis only weaken it further. Although, I will say that at least I had a a lot of fun leading up to getting the sinus infection.
"What", may you ask, "are you talking about?" Allow me to elaborate: yesterday was my friend A's 25th birthday, and we pretty much declared all of last week to be a holiday in celebration. Friday night we went out with one of our copy vendors, who's also a friend, for free drinks (on him) at Happy Hour with some another friend and co-worker, M. The plan was for us to go to the hockey game (CHL-they're not on strike!) afterwards, and then call it an evening around 10. So much for the plan!! Instead, we stayed at Happy Hour, then as a group (my group, and T, the vendor's group) decided to go bar crawling, especially since A had never done that. So, off we go to this wine bar, (after leaving the ale house we were currently at), before we ordered our first drink we decided that this place was too crowded, and that the clientele was way too pretentious for our tastes, so we moved the party to this club/bar at one of the local hotels. What a blast!! There was this band that played hits from the 70's through today and not only were they good, but the lead singer was HOT. Ahhh, nothing quite like some eye candy on a Friday night! After I called Jake to let him know I'd be home soon (this was around 1 am), he decided to go ahead and pick me up, so my friends wouldn't have to drop me off (because 1-I didn't have a car that day, and 2-I'd been drinking, so no driving for me!). Unfortunately, my sinuses were not happy with having to filter smoke-filled air for 8 hours, and revolted by triggering my allergies and clogging me all up. Then, the next night was my best friend A's (a different one) going away bash at a local karaoke bar we go to. I didn't drink then, but once again, was in a smoke-filled bar for at least 4 hours. Needless to say, I was absolutely miserable on Sunday, and was cursing all smokers (including Jake) for the way their habits were affecting me at the moment. Today I am still miserable, especially with the congestion, but I shall live to see another day. Oh well, it was fun!
Speaking of my love bunny, he totally and completely surprised me this morning (and by morning I mean 2 am) by waking me up with a kiss, a dozen coral-colored roses, and a beautiful card, in which he wrote: "You are my soul.... My life.... My love.... I love you, Jake". OMG, can you just imagine the waterworks!! The written script in the card was also beautiful, but I treasure his words even more. Of course, because of our opposite schedules, and Jake's proclivity to forget upcoming holidays, I wasn't even expecting something, and had not bought him anything in return. Luckily there is a Hallmark store near my work, so I dashed over there at lunch and managed to find a very nice card in the remnants of the Valentine's selections. Whew, for a while there I thought I was going to have to "catch him a delicious bass" instead.
Well, that's all for now. I'll work on posting something more interesting next time. Until then, I'm off to take more allergy meds and attempt to do homework. Ciao!!
Just thought that since it's been a week since I posted (oh how the time flies when you're infertile!) I have an obligation to my (small, yet wonderful) audience to grace you all with some more random mutterings from my addled mind.
If I've said this once, I've said it a thousand times: I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'm currently in the process of working on getting a lovely sinus infection. Oh the joy! I have no idea why I was born with the world's shittiest immune system, and the steroids that I occasionally have to take for asthma or arthritis only weaken it further. Although, I will say that at least I had a a lot of fun leading up to getting the sinus infection.
"What", may you ask, "are you talking about?" Allow me to elaborate: yesterday was my friend A's 25th birthday, and we pretty much declared all of last week to be a holiday in celebration. Friday night we went out with one of our copy vendors, who's also a friend, for free drinks (on him) at Happy Hour with some another friend and co-worker, M. The plan was for us to go to the hockey game (CHL-they're not on strike!) afterwards, and then call it an evening around 10. So much for the plan!! Instead, we stayed at Happy Hour, then as a group (my group, and T, the vendor's group) decided to go bar crawling, especially since A had never done that. So, off we go to this wine bar, (after leaving the ale house we were currently at), before we ordered our first drink we decided that this place was too crowded, and that the clientele was way too pretentious for our tastes, so we moved the party to this club/bar at one of the local hotels. What a blast!! There was this band that played hits from the 70's through today and not only were they good, but the lead singer was HOT. Ahhh, nothing quite like some eye candy on a Friday night! After I called Jake to let him know I'd be home soon (this was around 1 am), he decided to go ahead and pick me up, so my friends wouldn't have to drop me off (because 1-I didn't have a car that day, and 2-I'd been drinking, so no driving for me!). Unfortunately, my sinuses were not happy with having to filter smoke-filled air for 8 hours, and revolted by triggering my allergies and clogging me all up. Then, the next night was my best friend A's (a different one) going away bash at a local karaoke bar we go to. I didn't drink then, but once again, was in a smoke-filled bar for at least 4 hours. Needless to say, I was absolutely miserable on Sunday, and was cursing all smokers (including Jake) for the way their habits were affecting me at the moment. Today I am still miserable, especially with the congestion, but I shall live to see another day. Oh well, it was fun!
Speaking of my love bunny, he totally and completely surprised me this morning (and by morning I mean 2 am) by waking me up with a kiss, a dozen coral-colored roses, and a beautiful card, in which he wrote: "You are my soul.... My life.... My love.... I love you, Jake". OMG, can you just imagine the waterworks!! The written script in the card was also beautiful, but I treasure his words even more. Of course, because of our opposite schedules, and Jake's proclivity to forget upcoming holidays, I wasn't even expecting something, and had not bought him anything in return. Luckily there is a Hallmark store near my work, so I dashed over there at lunch and managed to find a very nice card in the remnants of the Valentine's selections. Whew, for a while there I thought I was going to have to "catch him a delicious bass" instead.
Well, that's all for now. I'll work on posting something more interesting next time. Until then, I'm off to take more allergy meds and attempt to do homework. Ciao!!
Monday, February 07, 2005
Tapped Out
Eh, I got nothin'. So, until I get my muse back, enjoy this titillating tale that was forwarded to me by a friend. Got to have something to laugh at on Monday!
*************************************************
The woman entered the room, and with a knowing smile
teasing her full lips, she sank into the comfort of
the plush chair in the corner.
The handsome stranger turned, having sensed her
approach. Locking his steely gray eyes on hers, he
moved slowly toward her, his experienced gaze
measuring her, hypnotizing her with his soft murmurs
of assurance.
He sank to his knees before her and without a word,
smoothly released her from her constraining attire.
With a sigh of surrender, she allowed his foreign
hands to unleash her bare flesh. He expertly guided
her through this tender, new territory, boldly taking
her to heights she had never dared to dream of, his
movements deliberate, confident in his ability to
satisfy her every need.
Her senses swam. She was overcome with an aching
desire that had gone unfulfilled for so long.
And, just as it seemed that ecstasy was within her
grasp, he paused, and for one heart-stopping moment,
she thought, "It's too big! - it will never fit!"
Then, with a sudden rush, it slid into place as if it
had been made only for her. As pleasure and
contentment washed over her, she met his steady gaze,
tears of gratitude shining in her eyes. And he knew it
wouldn't be long before she returned. Oh, yes, this
woman would want more.
She would want to do it again and again and again...
DON'T YA JUST LOVE SHOPPING FOR SHOES????
*************************************************
The woman entered the room, and with a knowing smile
teasing her full lips, she sank into the comfort of
the plush chair in the corner.
The handsome stranger turned, having sensed her
approach. Locking his steely gray eyes on hers, he
moved slowly toward her, his experienced gaze
measuring her, hypnotizing her with his soft murmurs
of assurance.
He sank to his knees before her and without a word,
smoothly released her from her constraining attire.
With a sigh of surrender, she allowed his foreign
hands to unleash her bare flesh. He expertly guided
her through this tender, new territory, boldly taking
her to heights she had never dared to dream of, his
movements deliberate, confident in his ability to
satisfy her every need.
Her senses swam. She was overcome with an aching
desire that had gone unfulfilled for so long.
And, just as it seemed that ecstasy was within her
grasp, he paused, and for one heart-stopping moment,
she thought, "It's too big! - it will never fit!"
Then, with a sudden rush, it slid into place as if it
had been made only for her. As pleasure and
contentment washed over her, she met his steady gaze,
tears of gratitude shining in her eyes. And he knew it
wouldn't be long before she returned. Oh, yes, this
woman would want more.
She would want to do it again and again and again...
DON'T YA JUST LOVE SHOPPING FOR SHOES????
Friday, February 04, 2005
Quiet Desperation
I'm going back to that place again. That dark place I swore I'd never let myself visit again. I may have to finally seek some professional help, just to get a grip and maintain my sanity. I thought I was doing so well, I'd managed not to think about babies every second of every hour of every day. But then, somehow, mysteriously, it started creeping up on me again. And now I find myself back to where I was so long ago. I hate this place, this dark cave. I hate that I am envious of those I should be supportive to, just because they have what I don't, but so desperately want-a child.
What did we do wrong? Logically I know that answer is "nothing", but I can't help but feel like I'm burning off some seriously bad karma here. Was I Hitler in a past life or something? I'm in this permanent holding pattern, circling around the land of Parenthood, and I need to land soon, or I'll run out of fuel and crash. Of course, there are those who will read this and think, "She's too unstable to have a child. Depressed people shouldn't be allowed to have children.". Yeah, well, FUCK YOU, you fucking know-it-alls. Infertility is like a death. It rips a hole in your heart that you feel will NEVER fully heal, even if you are lucky enough to finally achieve motherhood. The scars we are left with run deep, and rarely fade over time. I am in MOURNING. My arms ache to hold my child, my eyes want to see her face, my ears, to hear her cry, so I can make it better. Will I ever be "Mommy"? Next month, it will be SIX YEARS since we started our "efforts" at becoming parents. As happy as we are with each other, Jake and I both desire to be parents. It's not just a baby, we look forward to raising our child (hopefully children), watching them grow, learn, have families of their own. It is a fundemental biological urge we have, and we can't turn it off. Childfree (and I commend those of you who have made this choice, especially non-voluntary ones) is not an option for us.
For those of you out there who may think that I am being punished, may I ask you, for what? I rarely drink, don't smoke, have never done drugs, am married to the only man I've slept with, I'm a good wife, daughter, sister, aunt. I'm not perfect, but I'm no worse than the next person. Sure, I have a potty mouth, but not around children. I'm not trying to be preachy, either. I don't believe that the women out there who do drink, smoke, have tried drugs, or have had multiple sexual partners are any less deserving of children than I. In fact, they have the advantage of having additional life experiences that I don't. They can actually tell their kids why drugs (drinking, smoking, etc.) are bad, and can relate what it's like to have had your heart broken, but then how to pick up the pieces and move on. No one deserves this. Why can't we have children, when crack-whores are breeding left and right? There is no rhyme or reason to this universe.
Don't worry, I'll find my way out of th dark place again; I always do. And someday, I hope I can permanently step out into the light, clasping the hand of my precious child, and smile, at the possiblilites of a new day.
What did we do wrong? Logically I know that answer is "nothing", but I can't help but feel like I'm burning off some seriously bad karma here. Was I Hitler in a past life or something? I'm in this permanent holding pattern, circling around the land of Parenthood, and I need to land soon, or I'll run out of fuel and crash. Of course, there are those who will read this and think, "She's too unstable to have a child. Depressed people shouldn't be allowed to have children.". Yeah, well, FUCK YOU, you fucking know-it-alls. Infertility is like a death. It rips a hole in your heart that you feel will NEVER fully heal, even if you are lucky enough to finally achieve motherhood. The scars we are left with run deep, and rarely fade over time. I am in MOURNING. My arms ache to hold my child, my eyes want to see her face, my ears, to hear her cry, so I can make it better. Will I ever be "Mommy"? Next month, it will be SIX YEARS since we started our "efforts" at becoming parents. As happy as we are with each other, Jake and I both desire to be parents. It's not just a baby, we look forward to raising our child (hopefully children), watching them grow, learn, have families of their own. It is a fundemental biological urge we have, and we can't turn it off. Childfree (and I commend those of you who have made this choice, especially non-voluntary ones) is not an option for us.
For those of you out there who may think that I am being punished, may I ask you, for what? I rarely drink, don't smoke, have never done drugs, am married to the only man I've slept with, I'm a good wife, daughter, sister, aunt. I'm not perfect, but I'm no worse than the next person. Sure, I have a potty mouth, but not around children. I'm not trying to be preachy, either. I don't believe that the women out there who do drink, smoke, have tried drugs, or have had multiple sexual partners are any less deserving of children than I. In fact, they have the advantage of having additional life experiences that I don't. They can actually tell their kids why drugs (drinking, smoking, etc.) are bad, and can relate what it's like to have had your heart broken, but then how to pick up the pieces and move on. No one deserves this. Why can't we have children, when crack-whores are breeding left and right? There is no rhyme or reason to this universe.
Don't worry, I'll find my way out of th dark place again; I always do. And someday, I hope I can permanently step out into the light, clasping the hand of my precious child, and smile, at the possiblilites of a new day.
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