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The Weeping Mess, The Beautiful Doll

16 Jan

I’ve been coming back to this space quite a bit in the few weeks. Not to write, but to read.

A month ago, an old post popped up on my Timehop. OLD. 5 years old to be exact. From the first days that this  blog existed. Before I had thousands of readers.

Before I lost most of those thousands.

I read the post and was horrified. Horrified by my abysmal writing style. My inability to craft a clear narrative.

Even more horrified by the dramatic, whiny, insufferable version of myself that wrote that post.

When I talked about the post with my therapist I talked about “her”. About how “she” was a drama queen who didn’t know how good she had it. About how annoying and insipid “she” was.

My therapist called me on my bullshit. Yes, I need to be more compassionate toward myself. Toward my old self.

I hadn’t been here in quite a while when that post popped up and brought me back.

So I’ve been reading. Over and over. Re-processing events I described here in detail but that I don’t even remember happening. Grieving for my son again.

The most enlightening revelation has been how clearly and absolutely I understood my own neuroses at any given moment. I read these clear descriptions of them – my anxiety, my tendency to disconnect, my depression. I understand that those descriptions were written in a fog, but the clarity of them is not lost on me.

I was more aware of myself than I thought.


Yesterday, in a fit of boredom I took one of those personality tests. How strongly I agree or disagree with statements like “I like to be the center of attention.” and “I keep my living space tidy and organized.”

Several times over I selected an answer, then stopped myself and selected the complete opposite. What I was, and what I am.


I’ve been in a weight loss group for the last couple of months, in an effort to rehab some unhealthy habits. I usually show up wearing a tunic and leggings – my old “constant pregnancy” wardrobe. An outfit I throw on to be comfortable after work.

On Wednesday night I ran into the group wearing a dress and heels, full makeup, and a rushed demeanor. I’d come in to get weighed and leave. Client meetings back to back and a trip to the UK next week. I couldn’t stay. I’d shown up wearing my strong, put-together persona. Not the usual vulnerable mess that steps on the scale.

The next day the woman who heads up the group (who I love), called me. It was to catch up since I missed the group but I also knew she was curious. She didn’t recognize the frantic, put-together woman that she had seen the night before. She told me I looked “like a beautiful doll”.

She seemed surprised and amazed that the person who sometimes leaves her group a wet, sobbing mess was also a high-functioning professional.

She knew the messy part. The mother that openly wept the week before when she spoke about pleasing everyone but yourself.

The other part was foreign to her. Energetic, smiling. A”beautiful doll.”


This last week has been busy. My manager was in from New York and I was in meetings all day, every day. I ran home in the evening, all makeup and heels, to hug my daughter and put her to bed.

And every evening she looked at me and said that my dress was pretty. That she liked the flower pattern on my tights. She touched my made up eyes and asked “what is this?”

On Thursday night when I got home I hugged her tightly and told her I had missed her. When I looked her in the eyes she smiled and said “mommy!” in a way that I knew – I just knew she was seeing me. Truly SEEING me.

The energetic, smiling, “beautiful doll” was present and accounted for.


I don’t know where this long, meandering post is going. Maybe it’s a tribute to that other long, meandering post that stirred up my ire a few weeks ago. That made me confront “her”.

Worlds collided this week. My daughter saw my heels and makeup. The weeping mess met the “business woman here on business“.

Perhaps this post is about melding the two. Re-embracing “her”. Accepting her for the train wreck that she was. That she is. That I am.

Because she’s still here. She IS the beautiful doll. She is the weeping mess.

It’s just that those two don’t seem to be on speaking terms very often.

I wonder if they’ll continue to be mutually exclusive.

Maybe worlds are coming together. Maybe not.

Maybe 5 years from now I’ll read this and barely recognize myself.


Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.


Questions I’ve Been Asking Myself

24 Sep
  1. How is it that tomorrow I turn 34, and I still feel 14?
  2. Bunny is over a year old and I still sometimes don’t feel like she’s real. Is that just me or is it normal?
  3. Will I ever find the willpower to get my weight down?
  4. Is what I’ve been feeling lately contentment, or emotional detachment?
  5. What do I really want to be when I grow up?
  6. Am I dividing my work/family hours right? Because I keep on feeling like I’m not?
  7. Should I shut down this space and move to someplace less anonymous?
  8. If I don’t shut it down, is it fair if I only update here occasionally?
  9. If I open up a new, less anonymous space, should I promote it here?
  10. If I keep on travelling for work, will it affect Bunny? Will she be mad at me? Or traumatized?

Answers welcome, but not mandatory.

Protected: Leaning Sideways (Part 1)

18 May

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Plug From a Past Life

24 Oct

So if any of you are remotely interested in my past life as a writer/director, and are also in the mood for a slightly depressing, but pretty well made (if I do say so myself) short film involving a teen love story during the Holocaust…

I just found out my Master’s Thesis Film is available on iTunes.

Have at it if you like, but do have some tissues handy…


A Few Guidelines

20 Aug

Ok guys I will start by saying that I love you all, and your comments are a huge source of strength for me, truly.

But I’ve had a few comments lately that make me feel the need to address you all as a whole, because going one by one here does not seem to cut it.

So please take a moment to put up with my bitter.

I am an RPLer with severe PTSD. I am currently in what is probably the most anxiety-ridden part of this very anxiety-filled pregnancy. I have written here more than once about how hard it is for me to deal. The smallest thing right now sends me into a tailspin that involves crying and sometimes hours of obsessing and worry.

I know you are all trying to be supportive, and that’s awesome, but some of you have been writing out words and scenarios in the comments that are triggering to me. So now, rather than going into a blog comment looking forward to getting a bit of bloggy love, I’m starting to dread what I will read.

This is my space, and I need it for my sanity right now. Please help me keep it safe. Here’s how:

No matter the context please refrain from using the “s” word – I’m not going to type it out here, because typing it out will give me a panic attack. It ends in “th”. It’s what happened to Nadav. I can’t read it, no matter the context. So don’t use it. Also any combination of words that mean the same as that word. It’s just bad all around.

Please do not go into detail about your fears of what “could have happened” to your baby or any other baby. I know what can go wrong. Long diatribes and descriptions about what can go wrong is the last thing I need to read right now. I have enough of that running through my head as it is.

Please don’t tell me that I’m doing something wrong unless you truly think I am endangering B5. The mere hint that my doctors are stearing me the wrong way is enough to send me into a tailspin right now. I have to trust them, otherwise I have nothing.

Please do keep sharing your stories and experiences. Just please think twice before writing out detailed worst-case scenarios. I can’t read those right now. I just can’t.

Don’t think I’m ungrateful. I truly love all of you. But I’ve had 3 panic attacks today because of comments on my own blog. I really need to protect myself right now. I’m sorry.

Even though I initially approved some of them, I’ve now deleted all the comments that were a trigger. Sorry to those of you I deleted, I just have to protect myself here. I know you all meant well, and I’m not mad or anything. Please don’t stop reading or showing your support, it truly does mean the world to me. I just need a little eggshell walking right now, ok? Ok.

You Don’t Get It

13 Aug

You don’t get that I can’t “insist on what’s important to me” during childbirth because I am at the mercy of gestational diabetes, and so even if I want things like delayed cord clamping, I may not get to have them if my baby’s health is at risk.

You don’t get that it’s not about “control over my feelings” because I have had a traumatic experience, and with trauma comes the complete and utter LACK OF CONTROL.

You don’t get that I don’t have anxiety. I have the COMPLETE AND UTTER TERROR that happens when you have gone through what I have been through.

You don’t get that with all of my petty worries, the fact is that I’m still not convinced I am getting an actual baby out of this whole ordeal, and not more heartache. Because all I have had is heartache, so I cannot envision something else.

You don’t get that things like cloth diapering, baby wearing, and exclusively breastfeeding are a blip on my radar compared with just WANTING A HEALTHY, LIVING BABY.

You don’t get that I could give two shits about “controlling my birth experience” and “avoiding induction” and “cascading interventions.” I just need my baby here. I don’t care what it takes to get her here.

You don’t get that as much as I appreciate your concern, your assvice is yet another reminder of all of the things I could have had if I had been blissfully ignorant and complication free. So all it does is isolate me even more.

I am not a normal pregnant woman. Just because you pushed a baby out of your lady bits with relative ease does not make you an authority on what I need or don’t need. Just because you had a couple of complications does not make you understand what I’ve been through. I am not a normal pregnant woman. I will never be. Because I know  – I mean I REALLY KNOW BECAUSE I’VE LIVED IT –  I know that things go wrong and life is a fragile miracle that is more elusive than most people can even grasp.

You don’t know what it feels like to have to count kicks at least three times a day just to reassure yourself that your baby is fine.

You don’t know what it feels like to have flashbacks of the day that your baby died. And I truly hope for you that you never will know that feeling.

You don’t know what it feels like to not only have the “normal” fears that come with childbirth, but also the fear that comes with having lost so much before.

So don’t assume. Don’t even try. I know you mean well, but all I see is what you’re really thinking: “Thank goodness this isn’t me.” And “I feel so sorry for her.”

I don’t need your pity. And I certainly, CERTAINLY don’t need your assvice.

The Whole Pinterest Thing

17 Jun

So first off, an update on my last post. Thanks to everyone who commented. You managed to talk me down somewhat, and then my doula brought me down the rest of the way. I can’t really say hope has been restored, but at least I’m no longer an anxious mess, so that’s progress.

I mentioned a couple of posts ago that I started using Pinterest. A few of you (understandably so) were pretty surprised, because anyone who knows me a little bit will know that it doesn’t really feel like something I would do (which is a fair point). I figured it was time to explain my adventures in pinning.

I never ever had any interest in Pinterest (look at that! Rhyming!). Then at 13 weeks we found out that B5 was a girl, and I had a short-lived surge of optimistic excitement (it lasted a whole weekend) and decided to start looking at nursery decor involving purple things and butterflies and faeries (bunnies in purple are in short supply).

That was when I realized why Pinterest existed. I understood that really, it’s just a fancy way of collecting bookmarks, and it was perfect for what I needed. So I went ahead and joined.

I’ve been using it mostly to collect recipes since then, and sometimes adding a pin onto B5’s board. But honestly? After being on it for close to 3 months, there are some things about it that I just don’t get.

I don’t understand people who pin celebrity pics. Seriously – why the heck do you need to pin that picture of January Jones? I get you like her, but just type in her name on google images if you want to look at a picture. The logic of that is lost on me.

Same for those inspirational quote jpgs. I get enough of that on facebook. Putting them on Pinterest doesn’t make them any less annoying.

Another category that’s lost on me? Boards that are “things that remind me of spring” and things like that. Why pin a random image of a flower? In what way is that even remotely useful?

I really don’t understand why anyone needs to pin anything but recipes, DIY and decor inspiration. Maybe a nice vacation board with places you’ve recently heard of and  you’d like to visit one day. Or a collection of blog posts you may want to revisit. Beyond that is I guess above my pay grade, because I just. Don’t. Get it.

Mostly the pinning of random images of celebrities though. Somebody please explain that to me. I find it really weird and kind of creepy.

I know some of you will argue that it’s about sharing this stuff with other people as well, but I simply can’t grasp that place as a true social network. It’s great when its USEFUL information. But I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would pin a random picture of a pelican on a beach with no clear purpose.

On another note, I am actually one of those people that has tried cooking some of the recipes I’ve found there. Hit and miss. Mostly miss – especially the GD recipes, which have been a disaster and usually taste like bland sugarless mounds of poo. Seriously – I had a friend try some GD-friendly cookies I tried to bake, and he actually spit it out in the garbage it was so bad. But it did make me laugh my ass off at the pathetic state of my sugar-deprived cooking life. Because usually everything I cook is at least functionally yummy. Self-mockery is apparently the upside when you bake things that taste icky.

But I do have a new recipe for carb-free eggplant parm that is fabulous, courtesy of a recipe board I follow. And there are several cake recipes waiting for me once this whole GD mess is over with.

So that’s about it. What do you guys think of Pinterest?

PS – if any of you are remotely interested, here’s B5’s board. It’s very purple.

Why Do I Keep Counting

18 May

The last year or so, there’s this thing I find myself doing constantly.


When I look at a mother and child on TV or in real life, and I hear both their ages, I automatically subtract and start judging.

“She was 28 when she had her first baby”

“She was 23…”

And so forth.

I can’t let go of it. I can’t let go of the fact that I have been on this path for three years. That if this pregnancy lasts, I will be a couple of weeks shy of my 33rd birthday when I have this baby.

I was supposed to be thirty for my first. Just barely thirty.

I rarely talk about my long-term goals when it comes to kids because the first one still seems out of reach. But the truth is, I wanted 3 kids, and now, I don’t know if that’s ever going to happen. With bed rest and me already being 2 years shy of advanced maternal age. We already needed to get this pregnancy, who knows what trouble we face if we want to get pregnant again. If I make it through this pregnancy, who knows how hard it will be to achieve and sustain a second one, let alone a third. I also promised myself and Shmerson at least a two year break if we make it through this pregnancy.

And I can’t ignore the fact that if all goes well, I’m going to be a first time mom at 33. That’s a helluva lot later than I was planning.

These last three years have taken my body, they’ve taken my identity, and they’ve taken my dream of a big family.

Women I started blogging with are already thinking about TTC number two and I’m still here, fighting to hang on to what will hopefully be number one.

And three years have gone just fighting for this.

I wish I didn’t feel the need to compare. I wish I didn’t feel like I was losing a race.

But I do feel that way, and I can’t seem to shake it.

I can’t seem to stop counting.

Bitter Infertiles is Live!

27 Aug

It’s been a labor of love with three awesome ladies by my side. Finally… The podcast is up!

Click on over to our blog for download and live stream links!

We’re still waiting on iTunes approval but in the meantime there are a bunch of other places to download and listen!

Have at it, people!

I’m psyched! Are you? You should be!

The Shmersons are Coming!

25 Aug

So I’ve been sitting on some news until the bureaucracy was sorted out and the tickets were ordered. It’s also part of the reason I’ve been a bit absent from this space. Too busy planning!

So… Drumroll…

We’re coming to the States in October!

Here’s the breakdown of our trip:

October 4th: Los Angeles

October 8th: Las Vegas

October 12th: Baltimore

October 15th: Philly

October 17th: NYC


I can’t wait for this much-needed vacation, and I hope I finally get to meet some bloggy buddies!

Who’s close? Give me a shout out!

PS – Podcast will be up on Monday! Watch this space!

Nothing Up In My Junk

22 Aug

Hi All!

Sorry for not updating in a while – things have been crazy at work and I’ve been hella-busy getting the podcast ready. Which is in the middle of being edited right now! And should be up in a few days at most! Yay!

In other news, it’s CD 17 and there isn’t a follie in sight according to Dr. Dexter.

Le Sigh

See you all when I get my head out of editing this thing!

Not a Socialist, an Egotist

3 Aug

I don’t usually go into politics in this space, but today I feel the need to go there.

Let’s talk about healthcare, shall we?

I may not live in the U.S. currently, but I spent almost half of my life there and I’m an American Political junkie. I’ve been following the election this year religiously. In honor of the implementation of new regulations under ObamaCare a couple of days back, and the continuing Republican outrage, I’d like to throw my two cents into the mix.

Let me start with a personal story: While living in LA, I sprained my ankle. It was a bad sprain, and I needed x-rays and crutches. I had health insurance at the time, paying close to 100$ a month while living as a poor graduate student.

Still – that sprained ankle cost me over 500 dollars.

I also had to go to a dermatologist that year. Another 600 bucks.

Did I mention that I had health insurance this entire time? Because I did. I also worked, and paid taxes and social security.

I was generally healthy. I admit, I didn’t disclose my PCOS for fear of getting rejected for a pre-existing condition. I was told that they do this with PCOS, even with women who have no intention of getting pregnant. I found out that health insurance with a pre-existing condition would run me about 300 dollars a month. Knowing that I wouldn’t even be going to a gyno (I’d be getting that care in Israel on my vacations), I chose not to disclose for one simple reason: I couldn’t afford it.

So – no gyno appointments, and only a sprained ankle and one dermatologist visit in two years. 90 dollars a month for two years, and another 1100 dollars in “co-pays” and “deductibles”.  That’s 3,260 dollars in two years. That’s 3 and a half months salary for what I was making at the time trying to support myself (3.5 very good months. Most months I made less and had to rely on help from my parents and financial aid).

Now let’s run through my health care in the last couple of years in Israel, shall we?

Hospital stays: 5

Surgeries: 4

Emergency room visits: 2

OB/GYN visits: too many to count

Blood tests: Too many to count

GP Visits: 6 or 7

Cost to me: 0.

That’s right folks. Zero. Zilch. Nada.

Like in the States, I pay taxes and social security. That’s it. That’s all I pay. And the rates here are comparable to the rates in the States.

A lot of Israelis complain about our health care system. Not enough subsidized prescriptions, overcrowded hospitals during flu season, underpaid residents.

I understand those complaints, but you’ll never catch me saying them ever. That’s because I know what the alternative is. I know that in the States one broken bone could send me into debt. Here, it wouldn’t make a dent.

When we lost Nadav, I spent 4 nights in the hospital. I had two surgical procedures. 4 ultrasounds. I spent that first night in the emergency room.

Losing him was hard to deal with to say the least. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been had we needed to contend with an insurance company on top of it.

I can’t imagine how hard it would have been had we gotten a bill demanding that we pay for all of that care.

Yet that’s what happens to women who live in the U.S. every day. “Sorry about your dead baby, now please pay up.”

Right wing politicians in the States call a nationalized health care system socialism. I disagree. Supporting it is one of the most egotistical things out there. Because that’s really who you’re helping by supporting it – yourself.

My Reader Runneth Over

23 Jul

A little housekeeping before I jump in:

GTT is still on! I had to push it back a week because I spent Thursday cooking for 14 people and Friday feeding 14 people.

My date with Ole’ Wandy today confirmed that I ovulated sometime over the weekend. But from the left, so I’m not too optimistic.

Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post.

Some of you guys may have noticed that I don’t comment as often as I used to. This is because I have developed google-reader-phobia.

I open my reader, click on a post, then immediately upon reading the header, I close the page.

That’s mainly because nine times out of ten the subject of a post is something like “X week bumpdate”.

Guys – this is freaking ridiculous. When did you all become so freaking pregnant?

Don’t get me wrong – I’m incredibly happy for all of you. I am just unendingly sad for me. (Emily wrote about this feeling far more eloquently than I ever could about a week ago.)

Here’s the thing – I’ve been lapped in real life, and now I’m getting lapped in the blogoverse.

There are generations in the ALI blogosphere. Every few months or so, a new crop of IF bloggers comes in, and an old batch of IFers move on to parenting. The people who’s blogs I initially started following (with very few exceptions) have long since moved on to parenting. I’m now about 5 “generations” behind those guys, still here. Still stuck in the same exact place only fatter and sadder (hey! That rhymes kind of!).

I can’t even hope to be rid of my phobia when I get knocked up again because I will never have a blissful pregnancy. Even most IFers tend to calm their anxiety once they hit viability. I don’t think I’ll have that luxury, and it sucks. Reading all of the happy updates has just become a constant reminder of something I’ll never have.

I’ve ranted before against preggo bloggers, but that was during a very bitter phase. I’m not even mad, because unlike before, I know all of these women and I’ve been following their stories for so long that I’m emotionally invested in their successful outcomes.

But it doesn’t make this any less hard for me. So to all my pregnant/parenting bloggy buddies out there – I’m sorry if I check out for a while. Please know that for once the cliche is right: It’s not you, it’s me.

The Not-A-Bucket List

1 May

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about broader life goals and dreams. This is kind of a huge step, considering the only goal I’ve been focused on over the last two years has been “have a baby”.

But there are things I’ve always dreamed of doing. Some are more realistic than others. But I felt it was time I made a list.

I mean, you all know how much I love lists.

So here, for posterity, is a list of  of my hopes, dreams, and goals. This isn’t a self improvement list. This isn’t a bucket list. This is just the stuff I fanasize about when I want to go to a happy place. In no particular order:

1. Have at least 3 children. Whether I myself have them all, or some  (or all) come to us through adoption or surrogacy, I want to be surrounded by children (well, you can’t really be “surrounded” with three, but you get my drift). Note to self: You said this list was not about babies! You lie!

2. Write a book. This is a relatively new goal. I don’t know what the book would be about, but the last two years have proven to me how much I love to write. I’m sure that one day I’ll come to a place where I know what book I want to write, and I’ll just sit down and do it. Note to self: it’s not really as easy as you make it out to be. You should probably prepare yourself for it to be kinda hard.

3. Make a feature-length film. This is something that has been put aside for now, even though it used to be at the top of my list. Priorities change. But I still, one day, would like to make one. Note to self: No, you do not have to win an Oscar for said film. Seriously! Be reasonable! I mean, what would you even wear?

4. Help people for a living. That’s where my idea to get a degree in art therapy came from. I think there is nothing better than reaching out to people and feeling like you can make a difference in their lives.

5. Visit Japan. The country has always fascinated me. I can’t wait for the day that Shmerson and I can afford a trip there. Note to self: find an underwear vending machine and take a picture. Oh – and get one of those fish pedicures.

6. Visit Hawaii. Another place that just seems amazingly beautiful to me, I can’t wait to see it one day. Note to self: Make body bathing-suit worthy before the trip. Oh- and stay away from the Spam. They apparently love that stuff there.

7. Eat at a Michelin Star restaurant in France. Don’t care which. It just seems like it would be fun. On our honeymoon, Shmerson and I ate at one in Barcelona. It was heaven. Now- France!

8. Meet Mike Patton. I’ve met movie stars before. I’ve even worked with some. But for some reason, that doesn’t phase me in the slightest. On the other hand, Faith No More has been a band that I’ve loved since the age of 15, and still love to this day. I believe that if I ever do get to meet him, I will faint on the spot. Note to self: bring  smelling salts or something.

9. Sell a painting. I don’t paint enough, but I’m very proud of the paintings I finish. I’ll probably post about that someday soon. I’ve always thought it would be cool to have someone actually offer me money for my paintings. I would love that.

10. See a live taping of The Daily Show or SNL Do you guys realize how impossible it is to get tickets to those things? But seriously, once again, fainting would most likely ensue. Note to self: Smelling salts. Don’t forget.

11. Have my own podcast. Something else that I’ve been mulling over for the last year or so. I did a little radio when I was younger and I loved it. I kind of want my own podcast, because I think it would be cool. I may just do it some day. I can see it now: “Mo’s Bunnycast”. Note to self: Don’t name anything “Bunnycast” that’s creepy.

12. Own a Mini Cooper. Do I really need to explain why? Note to self: Make it purple.

13. Marry Shmerson Again. Our wedding was the happiest day of my life. Plus, it was the best. Wedding. Ever! The next day we already agreed that we would do it again on our 25th anniversary. It will rock just as hard. Note to self: Remind Shmerson to get a little less drunk next time around.

14. Meet J.K. Rowling and Thank Her. I know, hardcore geekery in play here. But seriously, there have been moments in my life where the only thing that gave me a bit of an escape from the ick was a long bubble bath with a Harry Potter book. Note to self: See numbers 8 and 10 above. Salts. Or some other fainting remedy. Look into that.

So what about you guys? What do you fantasize about when you go to your happy places?

A Shout-Out to My Day Job

16 Apr

Hey all –

So I don’t usually do this kind of stuff, but for once I made an exception:

I’m the content editor for a new online app called Invitekix.

It’s a platform that you can use to send customized video invitations with – um – kooky – characters that actually speak you and your guests’ names.

For instance, here’s a video invitation, inviting you to the launch (for the sake of this post, you’re all named Bunny. Because really, could I choose anything else?):

I personally think it’s pretty kewl. They’re a great company, and they’ve been amazing with all of the hard stuff I’ve been through.

We’ve just launched with a special preview beta version, and I would love it if you checked it out, and shared it with friends if you like it!

Thanks all!

Bullets and Bunnies: Happy Birthday to Me!

25 Sep
  • I turned 31 today! I was kind of dreading this birthday to be honest. This time last year I was pregnant, and I thought that I would most likely end up spending most of today crying. Funny enough, not a tear was shed.
  • Last night was AWESOME! Seriously. It was just a small group of us out at a restaurant, but it was exactly the kind of celebration I needed. Plus, there was MEAT!!!
  • I got drunk for the first time in 6 months last night (yay new happy pills!). I’m a total lightweight. 2 glasses of Cava and two Fijling chasers and I was a goner. It made for some pretty amusing moments. I decided that the invention of those eco hand dryers is all a big conspiracy to put the paper towel manufacturers out of business. I also announced out loud to the entire group that I personally found it very lame of me that it had been six months since my last drink, yet only 4 months since my last miscarriage. I thought that was hilarious. Actually, I still kind of do. And no, I’m not drunk. I swear!
  • People have spent the last twenty four hours wishing me health, happiness, and *insert something here that hints at a baby without actually saying the word “baby” or the word “pregnancy”, but hoping I know what they mean*. Seriously. Everyone. Even Shmerson during his toast said “extra health”, not “baby”. Since I was two sheets to the wind at that point I just yelled out “and a baby!!!!!” Of course, he later rectified this omission with his amazing post from last night. How lucky am I? Seriously.
  • The only person (except Shmerson) who wished me a baby this year is also the person that made me cry today. My cousin, who is about 10 years older than me has this absolutely AMAZING daughter, who recently turned 18. I love this kid. She’s talented, she’s smart, she’s funny, and she reminds me a lot of myself, only with way more wisdom than I had at her age. She called me about 30 minutes ago to wish me a happy birthday. She told me how much she loved me, and how I felt more like a big sister to her than anything else. Then she wished me a baby. Flat out. “You want a baby, I want you to get your wish this year.” This is what I love about kids (I know, she’s 18, but she’s still a kid to me). They have no tact sometimes. No sense of taboo. That’s exactly what I needed to hear. And I love her so much for saying it out loud.
  • Things that have made me feel old: Ok. I know I’m ONLY 31 or whatever, but teaching this week has totally made me feel like an adult. Today was my birthday and I had to give my 11th grade girls a test. On my birthday. They did sing “Happy Birthday” to me before the test. But I just sat there, thinking “holy crap it’s my birthday and I’m giving a test.” One of the girls asked me how old I was. I told her. Then she asked me if I was married. I said yes. She asked me if I had kids. I said no. She said “My sister is 31 and she has four kids”. Remember what I said regarding tact and young people in my previous bullet point? I temporarily scratch that to punch that girl. But only in my imagination. In the moment, I smiled and said “We’re working on it.”
  • Last week I was walking home from teaching my 10th graders. Two of my students were sitting at a bus stop giggling. And looking at me. Then I realized they were embarrassed because they were seeing a teacher outside of school. Then I realized I was that teacher. *sigh* I just wish I could shake them and say “Hey! I’m just as young and awesome as you!” I remember how OLD my teachers looked to me when I was 16. Do I really look like that to them? That’s a scary proposition.
  • That doesn’t mean I don’t love teaching. I truly, truly do. I’m enjoying every minute.
  • I can’t help but compare this year to last. I have to say, I may be one year and two miscarriages older, but I definitely think I’m happier now. A lot of it is thanks to this blog and all of you guys. I love you all. Seriously. (Still not drunk!)
  • I leave you with a video that AK posted on my FB wall in honor of my birthday. My friends are awesome. Seriously.
Here’s hoping 31 sucks much less than 30.
Here’s hoping it’s actually a good one!

Bullets and Bunnies: ICLW Edition!

21 Sep

Happy ICLW everyone! For ll of you that are new here, here’s the long and short of stuff and things.

  • I’m what some like to call a “fertile infertile” – three miscarriages, two of them suspected ectopics, all of them in the last 15 months. I had a lap in August to get Ole’ Lefty removed. So now we’re TTC with one tube (infertile chic!) and hoping the next one sticks.
  • I’m turning 31 this Sunday! This time last year I was pregnant for the second time, and in the deepest funk of my life, about to find out that I was having another miscarriage. A month later my brain broke. Three months (and lots of happy pills) later I started this blog and started to pick up the pieces. Hopefully 31 will be a better year. I’ve managed to find some peace and meaning through all of this, which is pretty awesome.
  • Another reason that this year is looking better is that Shmerson (that would be my husband) and I are moving into a brand spanking new (to us anyway) place at the end of next month! We’re really looking forward to it. Though now the process means that my head is exploding between applying for a mortgage and picking out kitchen tiles. But it’s a good heady-explode-y, I swear!
  • AF showed up early this week, and I was convinced it was another ectopic. Luckily, 15 or so pee-sticks (including two Rolls Royces  FRERS) have proven that my paranoia was unwarranted. Whew.
  • That’s basically all that’s new with me. Have a poke around if you feel like it.
  • Oh! And if you have anything that’s bugging you and you feel like getting it hashed out outside of your own blogs, in an anonymous or just different setting, Group Therapy Thursday is tomorrow! Click on over to the launch post to submit your questions.
  • I look forward to finding some new blogs to add to my reader and getting to know you guys! So say hi in the comments if you like!
  • And of course, as usual, here’s a bunny (I like bunnies. They’re cute):

Bullets and Bunnies: The Rolls Royce of Pee-Sticks, and Our New Apartment

14 Sep

I figured this was a better title than “thought vomit”, since I end up using bullet points and posting cute bunnies anyway. May as well be clear about it, in the alliterative sense… 🙂

  • We got the results from our Karyotyping tests today. I’m relieved and happy to tell you all that both Shmerson and I are A-OK. All chromosomes are where they should be. One more thing to cross of the list of worries.
  • I’m exhausted! We finalized the deal on our old apartment last Thursday, and ever since we’ve been running around applying for mortgages, ordering renovations, picking out wood panel floors, and comparison shopping furniture. The decorating part is awesome, but everything else is a headache and a half. I haven’t had a chance to breathe, and barely a chance to sleep. I can’t wait until mid-october when we finally get to enjoy the fruits of all of this (and our new compounded interest debt. Though we won’t actually enjoy that, but I guess it comes with the territory. Ahh well). Also – I’m sorry I haven’t been able to reply to comments or catch up on your blogs! I promise I’ll be back in the land of the living soon. Or at least in time for Group Therapy Thursday so keep those questions coming! 🙂
  • My FRER’s came in the mail (finally!) last night. That’s First Response Early Result for you non-pee-stick-freak people. I swear, these things are the Rolls Royce of Pee Sticks. Of course I used one this morning (9DPO) and it was a BFN. The thing is, these pee sticks are so awesome I didn’t even care. Seriously. I have never seen a cleaner single line in my life. Today while furniture shopping, I spent a good 15 minutes praising their virtue to my (very confused) mom. She only looked at me funny, like, twice. Maybe three times. I don’t care. I love these things! No wonder they’re so expensive! I just wish they sold them here. In my stupidity, I only bought a two-pack, and I don’t want to waste the second one. It’s so pretty, I can’t bring myself to pee on it. That’s weird. I know. But here’s the bright side: I’m holding off on peeing until 12 DPO because of it. If AF doesn’t show up, then I’ll use it. If the bitch rears her ugly head, then I have another pretty little FRER for next month. I know all of this is weird. I don’t care. Spend enough time peeing on sticks and you’ll become a connoisseur, as  apparently I’ve now become. Next I’ll be examining them for fruity undertones and viscosity or something. I don’t care. These pee sticks are so awesome, they made the BFN less painful. Or maybe it’s just because I know it’s early, and I’m generally doing better with things. But still. FRERs. They are sooooo worth the money.
  • At the home improvement store today, I found glittery purple paint for kid’s rooms. I squeed like a 5 year old. I seriously want a girl (if a pregnancy ever manages to stick) just so I can cover her room with sparkly purple paint, faeries, and butterflies. Gender stereotypes be damned! I’d do my own bedroom that way- you know-if I wasn’t almost thirty one and married to a guy. Darn age and stuff. I wants me some sparkly purple!
  • Overall, I’m doing good but I’m fried. All of this budgeting and logistics is not my thing. I’m so glad I chose a career in the arts. I seriously don’t know how all those lawyers, bankers, accountants, etc. do it.
  • That’s all for today! But of course, I won’t let you guys go without a bunny. I keep my promises goshdarnit! So here ya go:

Another Thought Vomit Post

4 Sep

Maybe it’s  just the way I roll lately. Or maybe it’s because I’ve had a long day on 4 hours sleep. Either way,  here come the bullets!

  • The stupid fake pregnancy “breast cancer awareness” meme caught me off guard. I only saw one post by a FB friend, and I was on the verge of tears, thinking she was preggo with her third child. I was so angry I shared every blog post I found about it. And some angry status updates. Let’s just put it this way: if anyone DIDN’T know I was a bitter infertile before, they sure as hell know now. And I don’t care at this point. How many women who are infertile due to breast cancer, would support this? And tell me, how the heck is this stupid meme helping find a cure for breast cancer? But why don’t you just go over and read Elphie’s post. She’s far more eloquent than I on the subject. I’m just pissed.
  • I got a +OPK yesterday. That’s CD 18, the earliest it’s been in a while. Methinks this is good news about my cycle. I’ve been worried about how late I’ve been popping lately. This makes me officially in the TWW. But I think I’m not going to go crazy this time. I have too much other stuff on my plate, plus – I promised Shmerson. We’ll see what the next week or so brings. I’m sure I’ll be peeing my heart out within the week, but that’s just because I’ll take any opportunity to pee on stuff.
  • Speaking of peeing on stuff – I went on an infertile shopping spree last week. I had to order something for my mom online when I saw a pop-up – Sale on his and her’s fertility tests! I couldn’t resist. I thought it was time Shmerson got his bodily fluids analyzed for a change. You know, just for the fun of it. Plus – it was half price! And then, two more pop-ups! Pre-seed and FRER HPT’s! It’s an infertile discount bonanza! I’ve never had the pleasure of peeing on a FRER , since they don’t sell them over here (did I mention they were on sale?)! I figure if I end up getting knocked up before this stuff ships, I can always do a giveaway. So don’t judge me, ok? Seriously, don’t. Ok, judge me a little. But keep in mind, if I do get knocked up and do a giveaway, judging me will seriously hurt your chances. Ok. Not really. Fine. Judge me.
  • I have gained weight in the last month. Not much, but enough so that my jeans are incredibly uncomfortable (the not-completely-healed-yet incisions from my lap have exacerbated the situation). So I’ve started to buy summer dresses. They are awesome (I like a nice breeze ’round my privates, thankyouverymuch). But I have to admit, I find myself looking at my profile in the mirror and imagining my stomach sticking out with a nice round bump under these dresses, and think to myself: “If I get knocked up it’s one less maternity item to buy! The bump would fit in here nicely!”. That’s not wrong at all. Right? Right?!?!
  • Looks like things are moving forward with the apartment. If all goes well (knock on wood) we’ll be ready to do a bit of remodeling on the new place within a month, and hopefully move in sometime in mid-late October. My mom’s an interior designer (lucky me, right?) and we’ve been starting to get price quotes and making plans. It’s really exciting. The thing is, every time I walk into this place I hear my future kids running around the empty rooms. It makes me incredibly happy, but also incredibly sad sometimes. I’m hoping the happy wins out when we move in.
  • I was totally honored that Mel put my post about sex on this week’s blog round up. The comments on the post, and the emails I’ve been getting as a result gave me an idea, and I want to know what you think about it: I’m thinking of starting something on the blog called “Group Therapy Thursdays”. It would go something like this: You guys send me questions about stuff that’s bugging you. Your sex life, relationships, IF issues, whatever. I post your questions here (anonymously of course), give my take on them, and then open them up for discussion in the comments. I think that despite the relative anonymity of the blogosphere, a lot of us still have “real-life” friends that read our blogs, or our husbands, or whatever, so we may sometimes feel restrained in what we write about and open up for discussion. This became very clear to me because of the responses to last week’s post.  This will give people a chance to discuss this stuff anonymously, and really delve into the taboos of our situations. Also – not every one of you guys is a blogger, so this would give you an opportunity to get some support and advice without having your own platform, and while remaining anonymous. Sort of like a “Dear Abby”, only with an emphasis on community feedback and discussion. So what do you guys think? Good idea? Bad idea? Let me know in the comments (yes Marie, this is totally a result of my recent addiction to the Savage Lovecast)!
So that’s it for today. My baby-crazies taking on the form of shopping sprees, facebook bitterness, and a crazy idea that I kind of like. What do you guys think? Judge me Let me know in the comments!
PS – I’m tempted to post a bunny. I won’t. But I’m tempted. Just sayin’.
PPS – Apparently, this is my 250th post! W00t w00t!

Happy Birthday Shmerson!

2 Sep

My husband turns 29 today.

We went out to our favorite restaurant and toasted – wishing that this time next year, we’ll have another birth to celebrate. He toasted and wished us happiness.

I told him that the truth is – despite everything we’ve been through in the last year – we already are happy.

He agreed.

Happy Birthday Shmerson! You is my love!!!!

You told me tonight that you can’t believe you’re 29. That you still feel like a kid most of the time. It’s that part of you that makes me laugh, and reminds me that life doesn’t always have to be so serious. So don’t stop, ok? I love you.

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