tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-135297582024-03-13T11:19:16.316-04:00Spiraling into controlEx-pat American currently in London, married to a Brit, trying desperately to keep a sense of humour while weathering some pretty big shit-storms. My heart was broken when my first child was stillborn in June 2004. 18 months later, right after my 36th birthday, I went into premature menopause, thus ending my dreams for having more children of my own. The grief of the loss of my daughter is always with me, but so are the hopes and dreams that she brought to my life. The latter keeps me going.Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.comBlogger150125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-69037391403155314532008-12-06T13:07:00.004-05:002008-12-07T01:13:08.395-05:0039 isn't as bad as I thought it would be...I have to admit that I was a little apprehensive at being this close to the big 4-0, but now that I'm here, it's not so bad. Maybe it's the 1:00 pm birthday G&T talking, but I'm kind of enjoying peering over the edge of another decade. My 30s have been a crazy ride so far and while I'm hoping that happier times are ahead, I'm thankful for everyone who's touched my life in the past few years (and that includes all of you here in blogland!).<br /><br />Speaking of people who have touched my life, here is a memory about someone who did so in the most profound of ways. I found this on my dad's computer when I was home for Thanksgiving. He doesn't talk much about Lydia, but it was nice to see that he thinks about her. This brief clip is the only video I have of when I was pregnant:<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzfHSJK5grSYsd2DNWfNmQg1EC7TaQYe02GZuIfoRk-ZGZJMJv5U2VvSYli9mu50yHJQQml5s0EHHU' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-82858894293191877232008-11-07T14:54:00.001-05:002008-11-07T14:54:53.119-05:00Freaky FridayI'm in the middle of a big, complicated work project. I just left my boss's office after a frustrating conversation (he doesn't seem to know anything about how my project is supposed to work) and in the dozen steps between his office and my desk, my head went from the complexities of document management to thinking about cleaning out my closet when I got home tonight to wondering what I was going to with Lydia's clothes that are still tucked up on a high shelf in there (is this the year to donate them to charity?)... at which point my eyes filled up with tears and I quickly slumped into my chair so that no one would see me crying. Will this freakishness ever end???Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-64894609423328694172008-11-05T00:28:00.002-05:002008-11-05T00:29:41.940-05:00A new day is dawning...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/SREvKQCOCyI/AAAAAAAAAIA/8ncyiwfwjBQ/s1600-h/imagine.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/SREvKQCOCyI/AAAAAAAAAIA/8ncyiwfwjBQ/s400/imagine.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265041292522294050" /></a>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-24657683867701550502008-10-28T19:38:00.002-04:002008-10-28T19:45:11.673-04:00I got a rock<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.jwz.org/images/igotarock.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 269px; height: 192px;" src="http://www.jwz.org/images/igotarock.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Gearing up for tonight's special tv event (for once, nothing to do with the election), I can't help but identify with Charlie Brown's recurring lament, "I got a rock." In my case, this sentiment has less to do with Halloween candy and more to do with motherhood. When everyone else seems to be bringing home the Hershey bars and Reese's cups and Kit Kats in the form of gurgling little pink and blue bundles, I get the rocks. And I didn't even think that my costume was that bad...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-15170172414129205982008-10-15T12:33:00.002-04:002008-10-15T12:35:42.210-04:00Light a candle tonightI'll be thinking of all of our little ones as I light my candle tonight:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.october15th.com/WaveofLight.gif"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.october15th.com/WaveofLight.gif" border="0" alt="" /></a>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-32396412447225760082008-09-24T13:43:00.003-04:002008-09-24T14:05:44.021-04:00Happily ever afterIn the 4+ years since I lost Lydia, I've had many dreams about giving birth. In every single one of them, the ending was not good. The baby was either already dead or it died shortly afterwards. I have never, ever had a dream where I gave birth to a healthy, living baby. Until the other night! After a rather sleepless night, I finally got a few hours in and towards the end of this time I had this intense dream. I was at my parents' house and I was pregnant, about a month away from delivering. At one point, I was at the top of the stairs next to my father and I said that I felt "funny". He put his hand on my belly and the baby started moving around like crazy, but not in a good way. "The baby is sick," he said, "You are must go into labor now." (my dad is a doctor, so I trusted what he was saying) I wanted to go straight to the hospital, but he said there was no time. The next thing I knew I was in my parents' bedroom with both of them there. I was worried about making a mess of the bad, but they told me not to worry about it. I was wearing one of my mother's flannel nightgowns and standing (!) on the bed while my parents each supported one of my arms. Oddly, the placenta and all of the fluid came out first, which left the baby in there without any "support". I knew it was important that the baby come out as quickly as possible, so I began talking to the baby, saying things like, "Don't you want to meet Mommy? We're all anxious to see you. It's time to come out now so Mommy can hold you and keep you safe." And here's where it gets really weird -- I could hear the baby talking back to me. Not in a creepy way, not even in full sentences, but it was like I could sense what the baby was thinking, "So warm, want to stay in here next to Mommy, don't want to go", etc. In the end, the baby decided to make an appearance and came out safe and sound. When my father handed her to me (yes, it was a girl), I wept with joy. And then I woke up.<br /><br />It was such a nice feeling, to hold my living child in my arms, even if it was only a dream. Maybe I had this dream now, because of my decision to try IVF... maybe I'm more convinced that I will have a living baby someday, I don't know. All I do know is that I'm ready for this particular dream to come true.Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-31888470095446872862008-09-09T16:02:00.004-04:002008-09-10T07:36:28.107-04:00Grrrrrrrrr! ...and then back to reality (and a decision)Where the hell does this come from? I woke up this morning feeling so angry, I could have punched somebody (and my husband was dangerously close). And indeed I was angry at my husband, along with my brother, random aquaintances, myself, the world -- but mostly I was just angry at the state of my life. Angry that Lydia was dead, angry that I couldn't conceive any more children, angry that I had to live with so much sadness. And the anger is still swirling around me, despite the fact that I am fully aware that plenty of people have it much worse off than I do and that I don't hold the patent on hard luck stories.<br /><br />And the only thing that seems to take the edge off the anger is to give into nostalgia, bring myself back to a time when my life didn't have so much subtext [what am I talking about? -- honestly!]. A little dose of Bonnie Tyler does wonders in these situations...<br /><br /><a href="http://www.mysticgames.com/famouspeople/pictures/BonnieTyler.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.mysticgames.com/famouspeople/pictures/BonnieTyler.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />------------------<br /><br />Now that that little crisis is over, I can talk a little bit about where I'm at. I'm at the point where I know I'll be ready to have another child soon. And although I am upset that my body has stopped performing its womanly functions, I really couldn't care two figs that any child I will have will not be related to me biologically. How vain would it be if I did, I mean, really! That being said, I have more or less decided that I want to try the whole donor egg thing, so that I can experience a live birth, if the universe will allow me that. And then maybe we'll see about adoption to complete the family.<br /><br />In a way, I think it'll be cool to be an "older" mom. When other mothers my age are wistfully looking at their teenagers, missing the time when they would rock their babies in the crook of their arms, I'll be doing just that with mine. And having teenagers in my 50s is bound to keep us young and energetic, right? :) Anyway, I really do like the fact that we still have this fun part of life left to experience. It's like saving the best chocolate in the box for last.<br /><br />And on that note, I may as well sign off. We got back from a two week holiday by the lake on Sunday (maybe that's why I was in such a bad mood this morning), and we still haven't unpacked. Time to head back to the ranch and get that sorted out. Too bad I don't have any Air Supply for the road...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-31121865412556885292008-06-19T14:38:00.000-04:002008-06-19T14:40:13.872-04:00She would have been four...Today is Lydia's 4th birthday. Four years, wow. It doesn't really get any easier as the years go by, does it? This is still a hard day and I made the silly decision to come into work today, when I could have just as easily worked from home. I did fine until I finished up with my morning tasks and had time for a breather, when a few big waves of grief washed over me. Just seeing the date all over the place today makes my heart ache. Which is what lead me to having a big ol' cry in the ladies room a few minutes ago. I don't want to be in my head anymore. But that doesn't stop me from picking at the scab by playing "I Will Remember You" by Sarah McLachlan. The last line of which ("weep not for the memories"), of course, I do not heed.<br /><br />Her flowers at church did not come out that nicely this year (fuscia coloured roses that were half wilted), so I didn't bother taking pictures. I took the salvagable stems and put them in vases with some peonies, which garnished our new patio table when we had dinner guests over on Sunday. It was there that I learned that I'm not the only freak in my sphere of friends and acquaintances. It was revealed during a heart to heart with the wife of an old friend that she had been trying to have a baby when she went into menopause at 40 (I had always assumed that they had chosen not to have children). They have decided not to adopt, so they will remain childless. I, however, do not wish to remain childless. I want to have children in our home, wherever that may be. I want to know what it feels like to wake up in the morning and have little ones to take care of, inquiring little people who need me to help explain the world to them. To know what it sounds like to hear a little voice calling me mommy, to watch them experiencing their surroundings for the first timet, to find out how boundless my love can be... I do not want to spend much more of my life without all of that.<br /><br />For today, though, I will remember Lydia. Which seems like a silly statement, since I remember her every day. But especially around this time -- remembering how happy I was anticipating her arrival. Picking up little things for her nursery, that have now all (more or less) been repurposed. The tall thin bookshelf I picked up at a yard sale a week before she died is now in our bathroom, full of towels and toiletries. The lovely Moses basket that I imagined carrying her around in from nursery to garden, now sits in her room piled with out of season curtains (did I mention that my house has a severe lack of closet space?). I've even starting using my old casual maternity wear as work clothes. It made me pang the first few times I put them on, but now they're just regular pieces of my wardrobe. One thing that hasn't been tossed or reused is a small plush lamb that used to sit in her bassinet. Keith picked it up one day a year or so ago and put it on his dresser. He said he liked looking at it, that it was comforting, so there it has stayed ever since. <br /><br />Happy Birthday, my little one. My heart will never stop aching for you.Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-13874422821160616282008-04-04T14:27:00.004-04:002008-04-04T14:41:47.462-04:00Ho, ho, hoThis is the view from my back window today:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/R_ZzRmr4VsI/AAAAAAAAAG0/tVUhiLo3uR8/s1600-h/springtime.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/R_ZzRmr4VsI/AAAAAAAAAG0/tVUhiLo3uR8/s400/springtime.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185458767243269826" /></a><br /><br />I am beginning to despair...<br /><br />In happier news, after a long, hard search (well, if you can call trolling craigslist and kijiji for a month "long and hard"), I finally found a corner china cabinet. We picked it up last weekend and I couldn't be happier with it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/R_Zz_Gr4VtI/AAAAAAAAAG8/z8uUxzIhxuY/s1600-h/chinacabinet.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/R_Zz_Gr4VtI/AAAAAAAAAG8/z8uUxzIhxuY/s400/chinacabinet.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185459548927317714" /></a><br /><br />I was finally able to get my piles of dishes off the dining room floor (and I'm not kidding!). <br /><br />And after reading <a href="http://peanutsmom.blogspot.com/2008/03/24-hours-in-life-of-cucumber-seedlings.html"> this post from Kristin</a> I was inspired to start my own annual seedlings for the first time. After accidentally losing most of the lobelia seeds (they are like DUST! I didn't even see them coming out of the package), it'll be a miracle if anything comes up. But it's fun trying, since it's certainly going to be awhile before we see anything green outside...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-41334755883606197362008-03-03T07:04:00.003-05:002008-03-03T07:48:30.072-05:00The latest gossipI've got an hour to kill before I do an early morning supermarket run, so I figured the time could be well spent updating my rather dusty and neglected blog. Instead of going into the myriad reasons why I haven't been a good little blog citizen lately, I think I'll just jump in with what's going on with me...<br /><br />So, let's see, work is fine. My boss got fired last week, which was a bit disconcerting, but my contract was renewed for another three months, so I'm safe there for the time being. I've segued away from writing into "content management", which is challenging and more interesting than I thought it would be. It allows me to save the act of writing for personal and creative projects and that's probably a good thing. Expect to see my best-selling semi-autobiographical novel about North American middle-class feminist angst to hit the shelves any day now...<br /><br />We're still taking dance lessons, and having a great time shaking a wicked hoof once a week. The teacher is fantastic and makes it all about fun and connecting with your partner (and he makes us switch partners, which was a bit frightening at the beginning). We're still pretty crap, but much less crap than we were when we started. <br /><br />K. is supposed to be starting a new job soon, one that will allow us to move to London at the end of this year. This idea is keeping me motivated and sane at the moment (I can't wait to move!), but his start date has shifted twice now and I am getting concerned that it's not going to happen after all. He's going to find out one way or the other this week, so fingers crossed...<br /><br />Otherwise, things are fine, no big catastrophes in any personal sector. One thing that occupies way too much of my brain space right now is getting fit. I gained a significant amount of weight after going through "the change", and although I've managed to stem the tide, it's time to start shedding it. I don't feel like myself, I don't look like myself -- I look like some bloated version of myself; my fat twin sister. A friend of mine who is in a similar boat wants me to do this boot camp thing at a local gym with her (3 nights a week for a month), and while normally I *hate* gyms, this may be just what I need to jump start my physical machine. I'll keep you posted.<br /><br />The only slightly interesting thing that's happened recently is that I've learned that I can now obtain an original copy of my birth certificate, meaning I can find out the names of my birth parents. After much thought and deliberation, I have decided to do it. I am not interested in meeting my birth parents or forming any kind of relationship with them, but I am slightly curious to know what my original name was. Just curious enough to make a trip to the Boston courthouse and pick it up. I'm going to be there this week for a conference, so I should have the document in my hand in a day or two. Weeeeeeeeeeeird.<br /><br />That's about it for now. I've got to pack and get ready for my trip. I got a swish, modern haircut over the weekend and now I'm just wondering if my blow-drying skills are up to keeping it maintained. I failed Beauty 101...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-36201930224690695552008-03-01T07:55:00.002-05:002008-03-01T08:02:54.228-05:00Too close for comfort<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://brainscannr.com/brainscannr.gif?name=bronwyn"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://brainscannr.com/brainscannr.gif?name=bronwyn" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a href="http://brainscannr.com?name=bronwyn" title="brainscannr results for bronwyn">See my brainscanner results</a><br /><br />So, we've got on one side a ring of happy faces trying to corral a bunch of sad faces, and on the other side a ring of army guys trying to fence in a bunch of crap. Seems about right...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-49829900678972684252007-12-22T15:40:00.000-05:002007-12-22T16:14:06.153-05:00Things you can do without children in the house1. Crank up the stereo on Saturday night and dance like disco freaks until 2 am (what we did on my birthday weekend)<br />2. Go away on a 2 week Spanish holiday without ANY guilt (except of the financial kind, but I figure we've done frugal to death by this point), which is our plan sometime this winter<br />3. Completely skip Christmas because you can't be bothered...<br /><br />Number 3 is a bit of a sticking point, actually. Normally, I wouldn't mind being bothered -- last year I finally got over being too grieved to decorate -- but this year, I have not had the energy to dig out the boxes of lights and garlands, never mind actually hang them up. And since we got 2 feet of snow before we had a chance to get the outdoor lights up, that is just not happening (though, we're not the only one with that score -- the whole neighbourhood is decidedly less lit up this year). So, 3 days before the "big day", I have not put up a single decoration, baked a single Christmas cookie or wrapped a single present. Luckily, I'm off the hook for presents, as we're not going down to Boston with my family. We have to WORK next week, which really kind of stinks. (Mind you, as devastated as I was when I realised that we'd be spending another holiday "à deux", now it's seeming like a very civilised option.)<br /><br />The lack of energy/holiday spirit is partly down to craziness at work, partly down to major melancholy. Christmas is a very child-oriented holiday and it is hard not to feel bitter and sad about everything we're missing out on. So, having an undecorated house, with no tree and no presents seems fitting in a household that won't be visited by Santa Claus any time soon.<br /><br />I will have to get my act together at some point, since we're having a party next Saturday (for "New Year's Eve Eve Eve"). I'll decorate post-hoc -- much less stress!<br /><br />Happy Holidays everyone -- if they can't be truly joyous, I hope they are at least peaceful. Thinking of all the little ones who are especially missed at this time of year... <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/R219PFASrrI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PWZWeBwARdk/s1600-h/Merry07.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/R219PFASrrI/AAAAAAAAAGs/PWZWeBwARdk/s400/Merry07.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146907647149256370" /></a>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-55810348357824730122007-12-06T07:03:00.000-05:002007-12-06T15:32:40.993-05:00"....and you smell like one, tooooooo!"For anyone who was ever a child, you may recognize the title of this post as the last line of the Happy Birthday song, as sung by 7-year-olds. Yes, I've come out of hibernation, just in time for my birthday! Pretty cheesy of me, I realise, but I've been known to cheese.<br /><br />On this morning of my 39th year (2 years to the big 4-0, woo-hoo!), I was a bit disheartened to find this headline at the top of Google news: "Romney's defining moment: How faith informs him". God help us...<br /><br />This year, I am thankful for many things... among them: my health, my strengthened relationship with my husband, my parents and friends, my job (financial stability is very cool!), my hope for the future and appreciation for the present. This year is all about letting go of resentment and frustration (as much as possible, anyway), and embracing curiosity and wonder. Helping where I can and accepting help when I need to. Forgiving those who have let me down (including myself). Boldly going where no woman has gone before, etc.<br /><br />It is beautiful here today -- a fresh layer of snow, bright sunshine. I'm going out for the evening with friends to enjoy beer and curry. I miss Lydia like the dickens, but that will always be the case and I accept that (sort of). I will love and laugh despite that persistent sorrow of the soul. Happy birthday to me!Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-41922161716084702582007-10-15T08:50:00.000-04:002007-10-15T08:53:44.253-04:00Light a candle tonightJust a reminder, for those who are so inclined:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.october15th.com"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/RxNibgpIZFI/AAAAAAAAAGk/2fuR01rVQrw/s400/WaveofLight.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121545426008826962" border="0" /></a>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-67150580457665174102007-09-27T07:45:00.000-04:002007-10-10T08:25:37.257-04:00Way More Than Her ShareThe news of <a href="http://morethanmyshare.blogspot.com/">Lisa's</a> passing has hit me like a ton of bricks. I'd been keeping up with her on her blog and was waiting to hear more (hopefully good) news. It is so deeply sad that someone with so much life and grace was taken so young. I was always impressed with her sense of humour, even when life was kicking her in the shins. I can't imagine what her husband and family are going through. <br /><br />Thank you to <a href="http://everythingisundercontrol.blogspot.com/">Catherine</a> for letting us all know.Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-1193293998706249182007-08-23T14:39:00.001-04:002007-08-23T14:51:32.017-04:00Help! Shameless plea for gift ideas<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/Rs3XCwaXwRI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nSUB62mAHmM/s1600-h/gift_wrap_LRG.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/Rs3XCwaXwRI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nSUB62mAHmM/s400/gift_wrap_LRG.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101970395235860754" /></a><br />It's my mother's 70th birthday at the end of September, but a lot of the family is going to be gathering at our holiday cottage in a couple of weeks and I thought it might be nice to do something special for her then. But I'm unusually stuck for ideas! I want to do something more than cake and ice cream, but what? She doesn't like overly sappy displays. I had wanted to make her something, but I've been so busy and feeling rather uncreative, anyway. <br /><br />My mother is very down-to-earth. She loves gardening and music (she an organist by profession); she canoes and plays tennis and she's a fantastic cook. She's an all-around great woman and she deserves something special!<br /><br />Any ideas?Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-73715929678985832642007-08-12T09:58:00.000-04:002007-08-12T16:50:09.915-04:00At least I was wearing clean underwearIf your mother ever warned you to always wear clean underwear just in case you were in an accident, you may just want to listen to her. On Wed. night as I was carrying 2 glasses of pre-dinner wine to the patio, I paused to look at the cat who was cleaning herself at the bottom of the steps. In that instant, I lost my footing and took a bad tumble down the back steps, gashing my head on a ceramic planter. My husband managed to get me upstairs to the bathroom to wash away the blood and see how bad it was, but I started shaking and throwing up, so he decided that it was best to call 911. 4 hours, an ambulance ride and 2 stitches later, I was back at home, battered and bruised, but generally feeling a lot better than I looked.<br /><br />I'm still recovering, four days later. I took a real bashing to my right side and am only just starting to regain motility to my right arm and shoulder. On the plus side, K. has taken over the cooking and cleaning duties for the weekend. On the down side, I went for almost a week without a hair wash. I had been planning a "spa night" on Wednesday. I was going to have a long soak in the tub, give myself a facial, colour my roots, do my nails... But instead, I spent the evening in the ER, getting stitched up and x-rayed. At any rate, I hadn't washed my hair since Monday, so by this morning it was getting pretty gnarly. (Luckily, my husband didn't mind being coiffeur for a day).<br /><br />Besides that, things here are okay. I've been traveling back and forth to Chicago for work quite a bit. Well, I say Chicago, but our satellite office is actually an hour north of the city, so I haven't seen much of the downtown yet. I did spend one day there in June for a conference, but as I was on my own I just spent a few hours at the Art Institute and walking around the "Magnificent Mile" before heading back to my suburban hotel. The museum was great, though -- one of my all-time faves and one I certainly want to revisit.<br /><br />The only other thing worthy of mention is that we bought a second car. I found a '95 Land Rover Discovery parked downtown with a For Sale sign on it and it was love at first sight. And once my husband got a look at it, it was all over (he's wanted one for a long time now). Being a 12 year-old British car, it has lot of "quirks", so tuning her up has become K's summer project. We're going on holiday the first week of September, so we're hoping that the car'll be ship-shape by then. We've rented a lakeside cottage in Eastern Quebec and invited my family and some friends to stay. I'm really looking forward to it, especially since my brother and his boyfriend (F) might be coming up from NYC and this will be the first time we'll meet F face to face. Plus, it's a great setting -- nice cottage nestled in pine trees, cabin with a sauna, deck looking out onto the lake... bliss!<br /><br />Anyway, after resting a lot during the past few days, it's time to get up and about today. We've got painting in the living room to finish (I'll be doing as much prep work as I can left-handed). It's going from a yellowy off-white with a colonial blue ceiling to a deep grey-brown with white trim and ceiling. It's almost done and it really looks great. We've got built-in bookshelves in the back that weren't terribly well-made, but with the dark paint behind them they look like a million bucks. But first, it's brunch with friends. It's a lot easier to paint with a belly full of French toast...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-56392530857935357392007-06-19T10:41:00.000-04:002007-06-19T10:47:08.470-04:00Thoughts of love on this special dayI have a long post brewing about what this third anniversary means to me and how it has affected me, but for now I just wanted to share a picture of the flowers we had done for church on Sunday in Lydia's memory.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/RnfsKldqTFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/_HOnXrwCZg0/s1600-h/Lydia_flowers_07.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_X4UWftWGSEY/RnfsKldqTFI/AAAAAAAAAA0/_HOnXrwCZg0/s400/Lydia_flowers_07.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077786771482889298" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I miss you more than words can say, my darling girl, and my arms will never stop aching for you. Love always, Mom.<br /><br /></span>Thinking also of <a href="http://survivingmyloss.blogspot.com/">Sarah</a> and her Kate today.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-40795173655667470872007-05-23T13:45:00.000-04:002007-05-23T13:46:46.097-04:00If only we had it this easy<h1> Female sharks 'can give birth without mating' <span class="starrating"> </span> </h1><div class="articleButton"> <div style="position: absolute; top: 260px; visibility: visible;" id="articlebutton" class="ad"> </div> </div> <p> Female sharks can reproduce without having sex, scientists revealed today. </p> <p> The discovery could have solved a mystery which has baffled experts studying the species in captivity. </p> <p> An international team of researchers based in Northern Ireland and the United States made the breakthrough after a hammerhead shark gave birth without mating with a male. </p> <p> No traces of any paternal DNA were detected in the offspring.</p><p><a href="http://news.independent.co.uk/environment/wildlife/article2574144.ece">More here</a><br /></p>Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-53750536797674156332007-05-22T13:17:00.000-04:002007-05-22T13:23:10.573-04:00Thanks for playingThe earliest appt. I could get was in 3 weeks, so I broke down and bought a digital test. After 3 excruciating minutes (sitting in the toilet stall at work -- very glamourous!), it came back definitively "Not pregnant". So, who knows what the faint BFPs were all about (chemical pg.? wishful thinking?)... Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled programming. Thanks for all the positive vibes -- I'm saving them up for the next time I need them!Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-88200889886983412852007-05-22T02:44:00.000-04:002007-05-22T02:47:59.658-04:00Rinse and repeatI took a First Response test just now (it's quarter to three in the morning, so you can see I'm not anxious about this, or anything) and got the same result -- faint line, right away. I'm still not entirely convinced, but I'm overdue for my annual gyno checkup, so I think I'll make an appointment with my doctor and see if he can't settle the question.<br /><br />Wouldn't this just be a kick in the pants?!<br /><br />(And keep those positive vibes coming -- I can use all the help I can get!)Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-11266909553637861172007-05-19T08:53:00.000-04:002007-05-19T09:46:02.825-04:00Second verse, same as the firstThis morning's test revealed another faint line. But upon reflection, I'm not entirely convinced. If I were far enough along to notice symptoms, surely I'd be seeing a dark line by now, right? On the other hand, I was using cheapy tests, so my next plan of action is to wait a few days and try again with a name-brand test.<br /><br />So, stay tuned, guys... and thanks for the support! I was afraid my ultra-sporadic posting of late would have put me right off the radar screen. No matter what happens, it's been fun playing the "what-if" game again, after so long of a hiatus. The weirdest thing was having to remind myself that if there were a baby, it would not be Lydia. This would be some other new baby, who I'd have to get to know from scratch. I think I remember a couple of other "moms after a loss" having similar feelings (Laura and DBM come to mind), so I guess it's par for the course.<br /><br />Most likely this is much ado about nothing, so I'm going to try to not think about it too much this weekend. After a week of cold rain, we've actually got some sunshine today, so there's lots of garden work to be done. I'll write again as soon as I have more news...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-81705351514996812872007-05-18T15:35:00.000-04:002007-05-18T15:42:02.640-04:00Holy mother of godA test has been taken. It is not completely negative.<br /><br />Why would a menopausal woman who hasn't had a period in almost 18 months take a pregnancy test? Put it down to a sudden rise of symptoms that I couldn't quite attribute to "the change". I laughed to myself as I forked over the money for the test, but I just wanted to see the negative for myself. Plus, testing no longer has any real emotional value for me, so I was pretty sure that a BFN would not send me into uncontrolled fits of weeping.<br /><br />Anyway, there is a line. It is faint, but it came up right away, and a line is a line, right? Aw hell, who knows anymore. Maybe I'm having a menopausal hormone flux that's causing the line. I will test again tomorrow AM with fresh morning pee. I just wanted to share my temporary state of shock...Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-14523189812899320682007-04-05T12:33:00.000-04:002007-04-05T12:36:20.114-04:00A little perspectiveI will no longer waste huge amounts of time feeling sorry for myself, not after hearing <a href="http://morethanmyshare.blogspot.com/index.html">Lisa's news</a>.Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13529758.post-38077230517625819972007-03-30T17:10:00.000-04:002007-03-30T17:13:18.299-04:00I vant to be aloneIt's Friday, and I had a few minutes to kill before heading out, so naturally I spent them productively:<br /><a href="http://www.bored.com/drawthings/save.php?id=825983">http://www.bored.com/drawthings/save.php?id=825983</a><br /><br /><center> <b>Your personality analysis based on this drawing:</b></center>You like to fantasize and think of ideas.You are an open person and have a willingness to interact with others.You have a desire to live alone.You long to be loved.<br /><br />Don't we all?Ann Howellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02330639889849276318noreply@blogger.com1