Spiraling into control

39 isn't as bad as I thought it would be...

2008-12-06T13:07:00.004-05:00

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!).

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:

Freaky Friday

2008-11-07T14:54:00.001-05:00

I'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???

A new day is dawning...

2008-11-05T00:28:00.002-05:00

I got a rock

2008-10-28T19:38:00.002-04:00

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...

Light a candle tonight

2008-10-15T12:33:00.002-04:00

I'll be thinking of all of our little ones as I light my candle tonight:

Happily ever after

2008-09-24T13:43:00.003-04:00

In 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.

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.

Grrrrrrrrr! ...and then back to reality (and a decision)

2008-09-09T16:02:00.004-04:00

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.

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...

------------------

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.

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.

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...

She would have been four...

2008-06-19T14:38:00.000-04:00

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.

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.

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.

Happy Birthday, my little one. My heart will never stop aching for you.

Ho, ho, ho

2008-04-04T14:27:00.004-04:00

This is the view from my back window today:

I am beginning to despair...

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.

I was finally able to get my piles of dishes off the dining room floor (and I'm not kidding!).

And after reading this post from Kristin 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...

The latest gossip

2008-03-03T07:04:00.003-05:00

I'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...

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...

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.

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...

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.

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.

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...

Too close for comfort

2008-03-01T07:55:00.002-05:00

See my brainscanner results

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...

Things you can do without children in the house

2007-12-22T15:40:00.000-05:00

1. Crank up the stereo on Saturday night and dance like disco freaks until 2 am (what we did on my birthday weekend)
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
3. Completely skip Christmas because you can't be bothered...

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.)

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.

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!

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...

"....and you smell like one, tooooooo!"

2007-12-06T07:03:00.000-05:00

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.

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...

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.

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!

Light a candle tonight

2007-10-15T08:50:00.000-04:00

Just a reminder, for those who are so inclined:

Way More Than Her Share

2007-09-27T07:45:00.000-04:00

The news of Lisa's 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.

Thank you to Catherine for letting us all know.

Help! Shameless plea for gift ideas

2007-08-23T14:39:00.001-04:00

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.

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!

Any ideas?

At least I was wearing clean underwear

2007-08-12T09:58:00.000-04:00

If 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.

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).

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.

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!

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...

Thoughts of love on this special day

2007-06-19T10:41:00.000-04:00

I 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.

I miss you more than words can say, my darling girl, and my arms will never stop aching for you. Love always, Mom.

Thinking also of Sarah and her Kate today.

If only we had it this easy

2007-05-23T13:45:00.000-04:00

Female sharks 'can give birth without mating'

Female sharks can reproduce without having sex, scientists revealed today.

The discovery could have solved a mystery which has baffled experts studying the species in captivity.

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.

No traces of any paternal DNA were detected in the offspring.

More here

Thanks for playing

2007-05-22T13:17:00.000-04:00

The 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!

Rinse and repeat

2007-05-22T02:44:00.000-04:00

I 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.

Wouldn't this just be a kick in the pants?!

(And keep those positive vibes coming -- I can use all the help I can get!)

Second verse, same as the first

2007-05-19T08:53:00.000-04:00

This 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.

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.

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...

Holy mother of god

2007-05-18T15:35:00.000-04:00

A test has been taken. It is not completely negative.

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.

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...

A little perspective

2007-04-05T12:33:00.000-04:00

I will no longer waste huge amounts of time feeling sorry for myself, not after hearing Lisa's news.

I vant to be alone

2007-03-30T17:10:00.000-04:00

It's Friday, and I had a few minutes to kill before heading out, so naturally I spent them productively:
http://www.bored.com/drawthings/save.php?id=825983

Your personality analysis based on this drawing: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.

Don't we all?

Dream a little dream... for msfitz

2007-03-30T16:42:00.000-04:00

Just a quick post about a dream I had last night, because it involved you guys! In the 18+ months that I've been blogging, I've had a couple of dreams about some of the blogland "regulars", but always when I'd been blogging (and reading) a lot. Since I haven't been around much lately, it's interesting that I had one now.

Anyway, this dream was short -- msfitz, Catherine and anam were sitting around shooting the breeze, talking about the ways we coped right after our losses. Msfitz said that she was so upset that she wore her wedding dress for weeks on end, until it was almost in rags (very Miss Havisham!). As she was saying this, I noticed that she was about 6 months pregnant and that she had a little boy toddling around her. I can only hope that given her recent surgery that the dream was a premonition...

That's it for now... back to your regularly scheduled programing...

This made me laugh, so sue me

2007-03-22T08:27:00.000-04:00

How touching, we've qualified for Hallmark treatment

2007-03-21T12:26:00.000-04:00

Hallmark has come out with a new "Journeys" line of cards that respond to "modern" issues. They've got one for empty nest syndrome, battling cancer and yes, even pregnancy loss:

Hallmark - Journeys

Mourning the loss of baby must be a real phenomenon if Hallmark came up with a card for it...

So, after my syrupy meme post, I'm back to being slightly cynical about things. As my friend (and blog lurker) pointed out recently, at least I still have my head.

My "Me, Me, Me" Meme

2007-03-19T12:09:00.000-04:00

OK, as Kate pointed out, it's only fair that I do this meme myself. So, here goes -- here are 10 positive things about myself:

1. I don't hold a grudge. I am able to forgive and forget with people that I care about.
2. I like spoiling people -- I get so much more pleasure out of making or doing something for other people than I do for myself.
3. My hair is thick and shiny, and has only gotten more so since the menopause (oddly enough).
4. I can walk relatively well in heels (and my calves are one part of my anatomy that I don't mind showing off).
5. I can type 75 words a minute.
6. Despite little practice, I can still play the flute well enough to accompany my mother (who plays the organ) at Christmas and Easter.
7. I tend to think of others first, and although this doesn't make me much of a corporate shark, it makes it easier to live with myself.
8. I can make a decent meal out of orphaned ingredients.
9. I always enjoy a good joke, even when it's on me.
10. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve. (that's not necessarily a positive thing, but I'm under the gun!)

Alright, I've got to get back to work now! Thanks to Jill for keeping the meme ball in the air. Any one else feel like taking a shot?

Do the "Me Me Me Meme"

2007-03-13T14:38:00.000-04:00

For the first time ever (and possibly the last!) I've decided to take the bull by the horns and start my very own meme. What fun! I had an idea for this meme when I woke up this morning, and given Catherine's post today about low self-esteem regarding appearance, it looks like it's coming not a moment too soon. (Plus, Jill pointed out that things have been rather quiet in blogland lately, so maybe we need something to perk us up!) So here it is:

List 10 positive things about yourself, including at least:
2 things about your relationships/interactions with other people (can be anyone -- friends, family, strangers (being kind to strangers is something to be proud of, after all), pets, yourself)
2 positive things about your appearance
2 positive things about your professional/creative abilities
1 positive personality trait; something that you would never willingly change about yourself

That gives you 3 "wild cards" to spread around the above categories (or things outside of these categories)

Rules:
NO NEGATIVITY!
No qualifying your statements, e.g. "I remember most of my friends' birthdays, though I should make more of an effort to celebrate with them."
No item is too small to mention. "I have a very nice pinky nail" is a perfectly valid type of statement.

Remember: "Positive" is in the eye of the beholder. Try not to feel constrained by what other people might think.

This is not meant to be a smarmy cheerleader exercise, I just thought that we could all use some positive energy right about now...

(And I apologize that I don't have time to complete the meme for myself right now, but I promise that I will do it ASAP!)

Snow Day

2007-03-02T10:32:00.000-05:00

It's a bloody mess out there. It had been snowing since the middle of last night and now the wind has really picked up and the snow has turned to ice pellets. We spent an unsuccessful hour trying to get the car out of the driveway and onto the street (that would be the royal we, meaning my husband spent an hour digging and driving and I came out periodically asking if I could do anything), so it looks like we're snowed in for the time being. I had a big meeting at the office this afternoon, which I really was planning on getting to one way or the other, but it's been postponed. All of which to say, we've got a snow day on our hands.

And why does this make me melancholy? Obvious reasons, I guess. I took a walk down to the corner store earlier and passed house after house with kids playing outside, fathers and sons clearing driveways, mums helping build snowmen... and I imagine in many of the other houses families were inside playing games in front of a fire or baking cookies or watching their favourite movies together. And I ache with the desire to have a part of that. I miss Lydia so much and I'm sad for all of the special days like this that I'll never get to experience with her. No matter how much I fill my life up with other things, that hole will always be there.

Oh, I think I need to go make a nice, warm batch of chocolate chip cookies. It may be a temporary fix, but I'll take what I can get at this point!

Danger, danger -- we have a breach!

2007-02-26T16:09:00.000-05:00

I was just out having a quick cig (no I haven't quit yet, this is next on my to-do list...) and got into friendly banter with a few other nicotine slaves from the office. One of them has a girlfriend who is a month away from delivering their first child and he joked about not being able bring any cigarettes home, or else his girlfriend would want one. "She still sneaks the odd puff when we're out sometimes, but she's been very good." Without thinking I interjected, "I snuck the odd puff*, too...", and then I caught myself and paused, "....when you were pregnant?", he finished for me. I nodded and then furiously started thinking about how I was going to answer any further questions (e.g. "How old is your baby?"). Luckily another office mate came out of the door and attention was diverted to him. Now that I've opened my big mouth, though, it's only a matter of time when the new father-to-be confronts me on something baby-related. What the hell was I thinking?

Otherwise, Fancy Cheese Day came earlier than expected and we were able to enjoy a nice weekend of treats. I had a nice afternoon out on Saturday with a new friend from church. We walked around the Old Port and then stopped for a coffee. It was just nice to be out and sociable. She's had an interesting life and it was fun to hear someone else's stories. Also, she already knew about Lydia, and she was very tactful about it, without completely tip-toeing around the subject.

It's threatening to "Spring" here. Today it's actually above freezing, which feels positively balmy. It's been a relatively short winter, but it's been brutal while it's lasted. I'm ready for warmth and green grass and maybe a flower or two....

This is a boring post -- I mostly just wanted to vent about my breach of personal disclosure on my smoke break. Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe I need to learn to share more and not be afraid of offending (or scaring) people. It's only taken me two and a half years...

*Just to reiterate, I'd been a light on-again, off-again smoker for years, but quit completely 6 months before Lydia was conceived. Afterwards, though, all bets were off...

Hooray for Fancy Cheese Day!

2007-02-22T13:12:00.001-05:00

(How could I leave a misspelling (Horray for Fancy Cheese Day) in my latest post title for 2 days? I blame it on the cold weather...)

Next Tuesday is Fancy Cheese Day in our household. This is the day that we become financially solvent again. No more having to choose between heating oil and gas for the car, no more juggling bills ("So, who won't get paid *this* month?")... I can go into the grocery store and buy whatever I want, including fancy cheese. Alright, I'm not going to go overboard... I will probably restrain myself to a hunk of Morbier and maybe a little wheel of brie. But my weekly food budget will literally *double*, which will be so liberating! I can buy meat other than ground beef, a nice plump whole chicken, instead of just an econo-pack of thighs. I can't wait!

I also can't wait for these:

They should be arriving at my parents' place any day now. I'd found them before Christmas for $120 at Nordstroms. Since I didn't have $120, I just bookmarked the page and went by every now and then to have a wistful peek. A few weeks ago it occurred to me that they might be on sale by now, so I did a quick Google search and found them at SmartBargains for $50!!!! They had only ONE pair left in my size in black, so I immediately phoned my mom and asked if she would buy them for me. She pays me the princely sum of $25/month to run a website for a local historical group she's in, so I offered to take the boots in exchange for 2 months' "salary". She agreed, and my dad quickly got onto the site and snagged the last pair. (Interestingly, the price has gone up to $80 since then, even though they don't have any new stock.) I'm so excited! I'm not much of a clothes horse, but boots are a real passion for me -- I'd wear them every day, if I could. Now I just have to wait a few weeks until I go back home for a visit. (But I want them NOW!!!!!)

Other than that, my contract is going well enough. I'm dealing with a slightly less-than-competent project supervisor, who also happens to be a friend of mine, so it's a bit tricky. I'm trying to make my worth known to the company at large, while keeping a healthy distance from my "boss". He's a bright guy, he's just not a great manager. At any rate, there's not much to manage -- we each have projects to do, fairly independent of each other. I'll just do my best and hope it all works out in the end.

Until then, I'm already planning some sumptuous meals for next week...

Birth certificates for stillborn babies

2007-02-15T21:17:00.000-05:00

There was a great piece on NPR yesterday about a movement to get legislation to issue birth certificates for stillborn babies (it was one of those "driveway moments" where I sat in the car listening until the end). It was especially poignant as I knew the subject of the piece, a woman who lost her daughter right around when we lost ours. We "met" on a support message board and went through the initial stages of grief together (along with the rest of the sad, crazy group!), right through the first year. You can find out more about Liz and her efforts from the first link under the sidebar header "When you need a hug..." (A Small Victory)

You can also listen to the NPR piece here: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=7407248

Not bad is alright

2007-02-09T15:27:00.000-05:00

I had a Lydia dream last night. I dreamt that she was with us as a tiny baby, maybe a month or two old. We couldn't seem to do anything right, though. K. was trying to change her diaper and making a complete mess of it (literally). Eventually, he figured out that if he sprayed her down first in the bathtub, he was able to keep her clean enough before the new diaper went on. I tried to feed her and couldn't find anything but whole grain bread (the kind with seeds in it!). In my infinite wisdom, I cut up the bread and feed it to her, even though she had no teeth. Miraculously, she was able to eat it and I was so proud of having such a precocious child! Soon enough, it occurred to me that this couldn't be happening, that Lydia couldn't be here, and the dream ended with Social Services coming to take her away (obviously parents who resort to hosing her down and feeding her grainy bread are not safe!). I awoke feeling very sad.

I miss her so much and sometimes it feels like time has done nothing to help me heal. It'll be her third birthday this June. Three years ago today I was holding my breath as the first trimester was nearing an end... Oh, I don't want to get into all the "what if's" and "if I'd only known's", it's just that sometimes it's still so raw and it depresses me to think that this is the way my life is going to be from now on. I know that most of the time I'm able to cope fine and that these moments aren't as endless and strangling they were at the beginning, in effect, it really has gotten better. But when I wake up from a dream where I held her in my arms and looked at her face, and I'm hit all over again with the cold reality of her loss, I feel so close to those early dark days.

Otherwise, it's been a good first (full) week at my new job. The routine has made the days fly by, but I haven't decided whether that's a good thing or not. I'm not quite enjoying life as much as I'd like to, but I'm not wallowing in despair as much as I had been, so I guess I should take the "glass half full" take on it. On the plus side, its FRIDAY! And even if I have no where to go or nothing exciting to do, at least I can stay up late and maybe enjoy a couple glasses of wine. I can worry about leading a fulfilling life tomorrow....

And Happy (belated) Birthday to Catherine!!!! Wishing you a happy, peaceful year full of soft yarn and lots of chocolate :)

Please, please, please... let me get what I want, this time

2007-01-29T12:34:00.000-05:00

The quest for a child has been such a focus for so many years, that letting go of that is like dealing with a different kind of death. That being said, the idea of adopting (down the road) is seeming more and more like a really good idea. I am adopted myself and my husband never knew his father, but we both had such positive experiences with "alternative" parental figures (mine with my adoptive mother and father, and the hubster with a social worker who fostered him throughout his teens), that it seems right that we should continue the experience within our own family. Before I had Lydia, I thought it was really important for me to be a "proper" mother, but somehow the experience of carrying her and giving birth to her has made me realise that it's more than just biology that connects us to those we love. I know I would feel no less a mother, nor no less important to a child who isn't biologically linked to me. I was lucky enough to hold my own flesh and blood in my arms, but now I just want to be a parent, in whatever form that takes.

In other news, I have a new contract! I start full-time on Thursday, which will be the first time in over a year that I've had full-time work. Mind you, a year ago I wouldn't have been capable of going into an office 40 hours a week, but now that I'm feeling a bit less desolate, I'm looking forward to a new challenge. And it couldn't come at a better time -- 2 more months at where we were at financially and I would have had to sell the house. It has been a very bleak winter -- to cut back, we eschewed the oil furnace in favour of electric space heaters and wood fires (we do have a fireplace insert, which is like having a wood stove). We also ate a lot of vegetarian meals, drank instant coffee and hibernated in our bedroom most weekends, because it was too cold anywhere else in the house! Now that this austerity is just about over, I can almost look back and laugh. Perhaps when I've got a fridge full of fancy cheese and piping hot radiators, then maybe I'll have a giggle at our winter of discomfort...

So, please let this contract hold out for many months to come... please let our quest for an family be fulfilled, however it happens... please let my husband and I be happy together as much as possible, and be a comfort to each other when we can't... please make my dream of living in London actually come true this time... please let me fulfill by potential for babeness and get into better shape... please let me outwardly appreciate all of the people, both virtually and in person, who support me and inspire me...

That's all of the "pleases" that I can think of right now. It goes without saying that a couple of dozen very important ones go to everyone out there who is grieving or in despair regarding child loss or infertility. May we all get what we want, one way or another.

Haven't had a dream in a long time...

2007-01-19T10:36:00.000-05:00

Now that the holidays are over and 2007 is here to offer a clean slate with fresh ideas, hopes and dreams, it seems like a good time to dig back into this blog. First, my news and updates: it has been over a year since my LMP (time to finally get rid of those old boxes of tampons, lol!), so I am officially post-menopausal. I have decided not to take HRT, mostly because my symptoms are mild (the very occasional hot flash) and with good diet and exercise I should be able to offset the risks of bone loss and heart disease. It's been over six months since I was last in a doctor's office and even though I'm due for my annual gyno checkup, I'm rather loathe to go in. Despite everything, it's been kind of nice not being poked and prodded nor worrying about my reproductive state; I can kind of do without the reminder. But it would be a real bitch to die of cervical cancer or some dumb thing after all of this, so I'm sure I'll make an appointment in due course.

In other news, we're moving to London! Well, only in the fall of 2008, but at least we've got a plan in place. I'm going to go to the Cordon Bleu cooking academy for a year so that I will be more qualified as a food writer. The thought of this -- moving to London and going back to school -- is really keeping me going at the moment. That's what's behind the title of this post -- finally having a dream. I'm trying to focus on that as much as possible, even though the other losses feel like a 10-ton weight on my back sometimes (well, most always, if I'm honest). It does give me hope and a sense of purpose, which is no small thing these days.

Regarding that overpowering sense of loss, I find myself vacillating between being terribly pragmatic ("At least you had a chance to carry Lydia, some people don't even get that.""Look at all the marrieds-with-kids that you know who feel vaguely empty and dissatisfied with life -- parenthood is not necessarily the answer to self-fulfillment") to wallowing in an almost blissful state of self-pity. I say "blissful", because this self-pity has become a real friend to me over the years and even though it can be overpoweringly painful at times, it's a known, reliable pain that is comforting to have around. I know this is an unhealthy way to live and that I have to break the pattern at some point. I'm much better than I was a few months ago (pretty much when I stopped blogging). Sometime at the end of November I really hit rock bottom. One Monday morning I woke up and I couldn't get out of bed. I wasn't feeling ill, I just couldn't face the day. The blackness that had been creeping up insidiously over the previous weeks had darkened my mood so completely that the mere act of shuffling to the bathroom to brush my teeth seemed like an insurmountable feat. Somehow, I managed to pull on my shoes and coat to drive my husband to work, but as we were in the car I told him that I couldn't go on like this. I said that I needed help, probably drugs, possibly hospitalization. I just couldn't imagine living one more day like this, the pain and the sense of despair was so great. I spent the rest of that day back in bed, reading and surfing the web half-heartedly, napping whenever I could. I picked my husband up from work at the end of the day and we talked a bit, but I felt like a complete zombie. Somehow, despite all of the naps I'd taken throughout the day, I managed to fall into a deep sleep that night. And when I awoke the next day I felt... better. It was really miraculous. It was like I had to hit rock bottom in order to scrub away all of the slime at the bottom of my psyche and then I could finally look back up and see some light peering in. My mood improved slowly but surely after that, and although I've had a few dips here and there, I've been doing much better in general.

There's lots more to say, but for now I'll leave things on a hopeful note. Life has so many wonderful things to offer and it's time that I started enjoying them. Especially things with chocolate -- waistline be damned!

Childless by chance or choice -- an interesting article

2007-01-14T10:51:00.000-05:00

I have another more personal post brewing, but I came across this article today and I thought it might interest this community. The fact that it is written by the mother of a stillborn child makes it all the more poignant:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/11/24/AR2006112400986.html

Stay tuned for more news about me...

No more answers

2006-10-03T15:00:00.000-04:00

Thanks to Anam and DBM for checking up on me. I've been meaning to post for a while, just to say that I'm okay. To be honest, I've been so sad about what this complete loss of fertility means that I've found it hard to come in here and write about it. Losing Lydia was a nightmare that I couldn't imagine reliving. This new reality is a brand new kind of hell. The only way I can describe is that it feels like I've been away on a long holiday and come home to find that my parents have died and that I've missed their funeral. Sudden, inexplicable loss that has no normal path of grief. I wake up every morning with this reality slamming me in the face and most days it makes me want to take a handful of sleeping pills and stay asleep for a very long time. I don't mean to say that I'm suicidal or anything, I just mean that I don't want to have to deal with this.

I've gone beyond the "it's not fair" stage, I mean it's obvious that none of this is fair. It is what it is and I have to find some way of dealing with it. My husband keeps trying to get me to talk about it, asking me why it's so important for me to have my own children. This isn't callous as it sounds, he's trying to get me to express my feelings of loss in order to try to heal, but I can barely put these thoughts into words right now.

I go back and forth about giving up all hope of ever carrying another baby, and grasping at any straw that could point to such a thing happening. I was prescribed HRT, but so far I haven't taken it. I had thought that since my symptoms were manageable that I would try doing this sans drugs, but a couple of things are making me rethink this. First, in order to combat higher risks for heart disease, osteoporosis and other sundry serious ailments brought on my premature menopause, I would have to seriously and consistently exercise, eat well and take calcium three times a day. These are all things I should be doing any way, but I'm not sure if it's in my nature to be consistent with such a regime. Secondly, 10% of women in my situation are able to conceive through spontaneous ovulation and HRT seems to increase this likelihood. But I'm really not putting much faith in being a *good* statistic after all this time. To be perfectly honest, the main reason I am not taking my HRT is this: I don't want to have a period if I can't get pregnant. I don't want the monthly reminder that my body doesn't work and that all of the mess and inconvenience will *never* have a positive purpose.

Anyway, that's where my head's at these days. It may be a while before my next post, but rest assured that if things get really bad I'm sure I'll be back in here to rant! I still try to keep up with the rest of blogland at least once or twice a week and if anyone wants to get in touch, I'm available by email at: ann.howellATgmail.com. Be well, everyone!

We remember

2006-09-11T11:05:00.000-04:00

The September 11 Digital Archive

Sonic Memorial Project

Anatomy of my closet

2006-09-03T15:26:00.001-04:00

My parents are arriving for a quick stay this afternoon, so to prepare I cleaned out the spare room (formerly the nursery, formerly the TV room). It was chock-a-block with unsorted laundry and sundry items that hadn't quite found a home. I put away the laundry (having to redo most of it, because it had been sitting in a stale heap for so long) and found places for the other bits and pieces. I left Lydia's Moses basket in there, because I just can't seem to put that into storage. It's comforting to have it around, somehow. Anyway, putting order into that room forced me to go in and out of my closet quite a bit (I use the closet in this room, because it's bigger than the one in the "master" bedroom), and it was a sight to behold:

Despite the appearance, there is a basic method to the closet's madness -- dresses to the far left, then blouses, then skirts, then jackets and suits. Mind you, most of this stuff gets worn fairly infrequently. Ironing is one of my least favourite chores, so the clothes that get worn most often is wash and wear stuff that I just fold and put into my dresser. And since my waistline expanded (seemingly permanently!) during pregnancy, I hardly ever wear blouses. If it has to be tucked in, I stay far away.

The side of my closet is stacked with items that need repair, and sweaters & fluffy red bathrobe that my mom helped me sew a few years ago. I wore it for a while, but then I lost the belt and it's hung here ever since. Note the tiny white sleeve hanging down from the top shelf. That was a vintage infant nightgown that I bought when my first husband and I started trying for a baby. I really thought that it would have gotten some use by now...

This is where the real disaster lies -- shoe tree covered by leather suitcases (gift from my first wedding -- too nice to let a little thing like a divorce make me get rid of them!) and handbags that I do occasionally use when the mood strikes. As you might guess, the shoes don't get much use. The shoes I wear on a daily basis are lined up under my side of the bed... You can't see it well, but there's a lovely vintage 80s mustard Chanel (knock-off) suit on the right-hand side. It was my first "grown-up" suit (high-school gradution present from my mom) and it's a size 4, so you can imagine how much wear that gets nowadays!

And last and least, the closet door:

Scarves I don't wear and I bag I bought in Greece during a backpacking trip I took when I was studying in Germany.

So, basically my closet is full of close I don't wear and stuff I barely use. I might as well rent a storage locker and turn this space into a darkroom or a ganja nursery (with proper lighting, of course).

Sex libris

2006-08-28T11:31:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to let everyone know that I'm okay -- I haven't been on the computer much, except to work, which is why I haven't been posting. This depression is kicking my butt, so I've got just enough mental/emotional energy to get my work projects done, do errands and occasionally get out and see friends (the latter is helping me a lot, actually).

I've got an appointment with my regular OB/GYN to go over management protocols for the POF. My doctor is pretty low-key, so I don't think he will suggest anything too aggressive. I'm slightly tempted to ask about an anti-depressant, but I feel like I've gone this long without one, it seems a shame to "give up" now.

Anyway, I will update properly very soon, but for now I just wanted to leave you with this gorgeous link that has been doing the rounds (I got it from my tech writing list). Enjoy!

Hot Library Smut

More news I don't want to deal with

2006-08-18T17:52:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the due date for my brother and SIL's baby, so why was I not surprised to get a message from my mother saying the baby had indeed arrived. Because in perfect pregnancy land all babies arrive on their due dates, dontcha know. Heavy sigh. I really do want to be happy about this news, but I just can't seem to raise any real enthusiasm. It doesn't help that they had a little girl (Sophia Ann -- I guess I should feel honored) -- I was really hoping that they'd have a boy. It is going to kill me to have to watch their perfectly healthy little girl going through all of her amazing baby rites of passage. It's so frustrating to feel so apart from all of this! I should be right in there doing the doting aunt routine.

K. and I ended up having more than a few drinks last night in consolation (and we seemed to have forgotten to eat supper, so getting up this morning was not very pleasant!). Oddly enough, he did most of the crying. Although it's comforting to see him being so emotionally open about Lydia, it's also a little scary. I ended up retelling Lydia's birth story in gory detail, while he listened and wept. It was cathartic and I think it did help bring us closer, but it was also very draining. Tonight I just feel like ordering pizza and watching some vapid sci-fi. And I think that's probably just what we'll do!

Anyway, I'm still trying to digest the arrival of Sophia. Ironically, she may never have any cousins, as her mom is an only child and the rest of us seem unlikely to procreate (we've got one gay brother and an AWOL sister). I guess there are worse fates in life...

Get off the stage, fat lady!

2006-08-14T13:54:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I've decided that I'm not going to give up without a fight. After spending a dreadful weekend in a deep depression (and dragging my husband down into it, I might add), riddled with peri-suicidal thoughts in the darkness of night, I woke up this morning feeling... just as dreadful and depressed. Careful not to go over the edge completely, I tried to at least go through the motions of my morning routine, checking emails, making phone calls, etc. Once I had done the basics for the day, I decided to do a little more research into the FSH situation. Most of it was confirming what the doctor had said, which is that numbers as high as mine were the sign of full-blown, non-reversible menopause. But then a ray of hope was shone when I came across the High FSH Support Forum (there's a message board for just about everything these days!) and after a quick introduction was warmly welcomed by some very helpful women who pointed me toward some useful links. It seems that there is a slight possibility that this sudden menopausal state could have been brought about by a combination of high stress (check!), sedentary lifestyle (check!) and poor diet (check!). After doing some more research on my own, I found this nugget on PubMed (US Government medical site):

Ovarian dysfunction, stress, and disease: a primate continuum.

Kaplan JR, Manuck SB.

Department of Pathology, Wake Forest University, School of Medicine, Winston-Salem, NC, USA.

Menopause is recognized as a period of increased risk for coronary heart disease (CHD) and osteoporosis. Vulnerability to these conditions is often attributed to the naturally occurring estrogen deficiency characteristic of this part of the life cycle. Premenopausal reductions in endogenous estrogen occasioned by functional ovarian abnormalities or failure are hypothesized to be similarly pathogenic and to accelerate development of CHD and osteoporosis prematurely, thereby increasing the health burden of older women. These functional abnormalities, which occur along a continuum from mild, luteal phase progesterone deficiency to amenorrhea, are relatively common and are often attributed to psychogenic factors (stress, anxiety, depression, or other emotional disturbance), exercise, or energy imbalance. Although numerous investigators have commented on these functional deficits, the abnormalities can be difficult to diagnose and are generally unappreciated for the contribution they may make to postmenopausal disease. Studies in nonhuman primates confirm that these deficits are easily induced by psychological stress and exercise, and that they accelerate the development of cardiovascular disease and perhaps bone loss in the presence of a typical North American diet. However, functional reproductive deficits are also reversible and are thus potentially amenable to environmental or behavioral intervention. Data from both women and nonhuman primates support the hypothesis that functional reproductive deficits are adaptive when triggered appropriately but are detrimental when activated in an environment (e.g., sedentary lifestyle, high-fat diet) permissive to the development of chronic disease.

--------

I've got my dad (the physician) looking up the full text of the article to see what it's all about. My dad has become my right-hand man in this research and it helps that he has access to all of the medical journals. He can get the real-deal info, not just the distilled pap that the rest of us mere mortals are allowed to see. Mind you, his initial research was not good, as the first article he came across indicated that stress *lowered* FSH levels. So, I'm trying not to hang on blindly to any semi-plausible tidbit that reinforces a positive outcome, but if there's any hope that a healthier lifestyle combined with major stress reduction could restore my fertility... well, I won't kick it out of bed for eating crackers!

Okay, well I think I've mixed enough metaphors for today. I hope it doesn't appear that I was crying wolf with my despondency over my results in the last post. I was (and am) truly devastated at the idea of not only my fertility being gone, but also losing a certain amount of "womanliness". Today I've realised, though, that if I don't give up hope just yet, maybe I can hang onto my sanity for a bit longer. And then in six months or a year when it's obvious that my periods aren't coming back (depsite being a totally fit, non-toxic, salad-eating babe, lol!), maybe time will have softened the blow and I will be able to take it in stride. Until then, I'm strapping on my sneaks and sweatin' my troubles away! Right after I finish this piece of fudge cake :)

It's Game Over for the ovaries

2006-08-11T15:03:00.000-04:00

My FSH is at 93. No more periods, no more two week waits, no more BFPs or BFNs, no more pre-menstrual syndrome, no more baby-dancing, no more tampons, maxi-pads or pantiliners with wings, no more wondering about whose eyes the next baby will get, no more ultrasounds and never again feeling those first flutters from within, just a lifetime of nevermores... I've bled and birthed for the last time.

Take this life and shove it!

2006-08-10T18:25:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I just get so mad at myself for making bad decisions that have led me to the unenviable position I'm in now. For example, if I had stayed in my unhappy first marriage, then maybe I'd have living children right now and I would certainly not be in mountains of debt (my ex was frugal to a fault). In my heart of hearts I know he wasn't the man for me, but sometimes that life seems so appealing.

It feels weird to be in my body. It's bizarre to think that I'll probably never have another period again. I can't remember the last time I even looked for signs of oncoming menses. Whenever it was, it was really the last time. I'm starting to gain weight again, but this is probably more down to being too depressed to exercise, than just the hormonal changes. And this depresses me even more.

My brother's wife is due in a week, and I really can't fake any enthusiasm about the whole event. I made a FCBMB* promise to come down and visit when the baby's born and I only felt marginally guilty for lying.

If it isn't already obvious, I'm feeling very sorry for myself today. I can't imagine any path that is going to bring me closer to even a modicum of happiness. I'm enjoying nothing these days and I resent having to be cook, laundress and chauffeur for my husband... You know what, he can make supper tonight. I don't care if it's scrambled eggs with marmite, as long as I don't have to make it...

*Fingers Crossed Behind My Back

No news yet

2006-08-08T08:43:00.000-04:00

Still no news from the RE, but of course the cell phone is no longer charged up and who knows if he'll have the presence of mind to call me at home. I will try calling him this afternoon if I still haven't heard anything.

Otherwise, I'm having a bad day. I'm finding that all of the old feelings I had about my husband's affairs (the hurt, the disbelief, the unworthiness) have come rushing back with a vengance. Whereas a few weeks ago I was really enjoying being with my husband and I looked forward to our future, now I just look at him and see all of the betrayal. I'm sure this is all tied into the trauma of the diagnosis, it just really sucks to feel like I'm being plunged back into all of that negativity. I really am ready for some happiness!

I have a lot to say, but I just don't have the energy to write it down at the moment. I've got a major case of the blahs...

False alarm

2006-08-03T15:07:00.000-04:00

The RE doesn't have my results back; he was just returning my call (the one that was just to tell him that I had had the blood drawn and to call me when the results were in). He thinks it'll probably take a few more days, so it'll probably be next week before I hear anything. I've been a bucket of nerves all day and knowing I have to wait till after the weekend to get these blasted results doesn't really help!

On pins and needles

2006-08-03T08:25:00.000-04:00

The RE called the other day at 8:00 am, but I was in the shower and missed the call (he didn't leave a message and I only saw that he'd called when I got home that evening and checked the call log). He was out yesterday, but he's back in the office today so I am anxiously waiting for his call. I've charged up the emergency cell phone so he can contact me while I'm at my client's, but I was hoping he'd call this morning before I left. I just want to know what the test results were so that I can put this chapter to rest. I'm trying to be calm, but why doesn't he call already?!!!

Heard it through the grapevine -- Milo's here!!!

2006-08-01T19:39:00.000-04:00

So unbelievably thrilled for Laura and Justin! So happy to hear that the newest member of the clan has arrived safe and sound. Thinking of Hans, too, and wishing that he could be here to welcome his little brother into the world... Give Milo a kiss for all of us! He is so incredibly loved already :)

La-la-la-la-la, I'm not listening!

2006-07-30T10:19:00.000-04:00

I've decided that the best way to deal with this diagnosis of premature menopause is to stick my head in the sand and pretend it's not true. Not a very logical approach, I know, but one that oddly gives me some peace of mind. The way I look at it, two things can happen: 1) The diagnosis is correct and I will be barren for the rest of my days. 2) My FSH will self-correct, my periods will return and my fertility will be restored somewhere down the line. Even if the latter turns out to be the case, given my age and history with Lydia, it may be rather difficult for me to achieve and maintain a pregnancy. So, I can either spend every waking minute worrying about my FSH, LH and PDQ levls, tracking my temperature, cervical fluid and eyeball mucus, while engaging in military death march coitus every 1.64 days... or I can go about my life and try to solve some of the bigger questions, like why I can't go to the market without buying at least 8 rolls of toilet tissue "just in case". Seriously, if my system magically rights itself and I am blessed with another healthy pregnancy (and I can manage to deliver a live baby), then wonderful. If, however, in a couple of years my cycles are still MIA and there hasn't been a miracle conception, then we can explore alternatives, like adoption. There are plenty of existing children who need loving families and I know first-hand that the bond between adoptive parents and their children isn't any less than that with biological families. So, I may never have the experience of breast feeding, but I still may be able to experience motherhood.

And speaking of motherhood, no matter what happens I will always be Lydia's mother. I felt her grow inside of me, I got to hold her and kiss her when she was born. Some women (my own mother included) never even get that, so I am very lucky in a lot of ways. Lydia will always be in my heart and I will never let any diagnosis regarding my fertility interfere with my love for her. Even if she is the only biological child that I will ever have, I won't feel cheated.

All that being said, all of this has made me think a lot about my future and what I want to do; what I need to be as happy and fulfilled as I can be. I need to make more of a contribution to the world and to do that I need to be somewhere where there is some action going on. So, I've decided that I really do want to move to London, at least for a few years. I may come back to Montreal once I have all of the "big-city" stuff out of my system, so I'm not going to burn my bridges here. The hubster and I are in negotiations about possible move scenarios (yes, we're staying together -- I will write more about that on a future date). I'd like to be there before Christmas, ideally settling in sometime in October. But we shall see...

Right, lots to do today, so I'd best get on with it. I'm on pins and needles waiting for Milo's big entrance. Good luck Laura and Justin!!!

À bientôt, mes chères...

I'm running away and joining the circus!

2006-07-26T07:23:00.000-04:00

As I came into consciousness this morning, I started remembering a dream I'd just had about being part of a bunch of traveling social commentators (hey, I have no idea -- it was a dream!). This group was an odd mixture of lovable misfits and geeks, and as their newest member I had no trouble fitting in. They would go around giving conferences and workshops about topical issues and hold public debates. There was a certain amount of spectacle involved, as they had a little routine worked out. Anyway, the dream seemed to segue quite rapidly from my arrival into the troupe (I had been an audience member who'd asked so many insightful questions that they asked me to join them -- it's nice to feel wanted, if only in a dream!) to having been with them long enough for it to feel like a family. There weren't many other women in the troupe, but one of them was played by Laura Dern (right before bed last night, my husband and I had been casting a ficticious movie and I think her name had come up). Laura and I were best friends, as close as twin sisters, so when she announced to everyone that she was five months pregnant, I wasn't anything but thrilled for her. I remember saying that now I understand what dads must feel when their wives were expecting. (Not that she and I were lovers, but I think the idea was that the entire troupe was going to raise the child, so we'd all be a part of the experience.) Anyway, she said that she could empathize with any mixed feelings that I might have, as she herself had lost a child 10 years ago and she'd been told that she'd never be able to have another baby. This did comfort me, somehow. Shortly after this scene, the troupe traveled to Lebanon to do a show on conflict resolution (hah!). Lebanon looked strangely like my hometown in Southeastern Massachusetts, go figure. Anyway, one night we realized that one of our troupe was missing, so we formed a search party and started looking for him. We were all supposed to stay together as we were searching, but at one point I thought I heard something, so I strayed away from my group to go check it out. As I walked toward the sound, I stepped on a land mine and was blown up into the air. I landed in some tall grass with a thud and couldn't move. I had taken the hit directly between my legs, and even though I wasn't bloody, I knew there was serious internal damage. I couldn't scream, but my friends came running after they heard the blast and started to attend to me. As soon as they came near I passed out from the pain and woke up.

Besides dreaming about having my hoo-hah blown up, I have been relatively okay lately. There must be something to Nietzsche's old adage about "that which does not kill you...", as the more I get hit with, the more resilient I seem to get. Until I get the final diagnosis, I'm doing my best not to think about it. This is not an entirely successful undertaking, but it's kept me from spending my days curled up into a fetal ball sobbing my guts out. I had the second blood draw yesterday, so I should be able to commence with the intense grieving any day now...

Other than that, my insurance claim has gone through already, which is a relief. Between the robbery and last week's news, the month of June has been more or less a complete write-off, work-wise. The insurance money will at least keep the wolves at bay next month. I wish I were more duplicitous because I really could have beefed up the claim. But I am so afraid of invoking any more bad karma, that the best I could do was to up the number of DVDs that were taken by a few digits. And seeing as how we're only getting $10 per, we come out just about even...

Anyway, I'm hanging in there despite everything. I'm sure there will be another round of hell to deal with once I get these latest blood test results, but until then I'm going to do everything I can to distract myself. Joining a troupe of traveling entertainers sounds like just the ticket, in fact...

Nothin' left to lose

2006-07-21T07:21:00.000-04:00

Well, what a 100th post that was... Thank you all for kind words. It means so much to have your support. A lot of you mentioned a second opinion, and, yes, I will be having these numbers double-checked. But in all honesty, unless there was a major screw-up at the lab, it really doesn't look good. My periods never became regular after Lydia, and I have had none at all since December. On top of that, I have been getting hot flashes and a lot of secondary symptoms that can be attributed to ovarian failure (frequent migraines, joint pain, etc.). That's the official term for it, by the way, "Premature Ovarian Failure". And with an FSH as high as mine it really does mean that fertility has most likely ended for me. (Fuck, fuck, fuck, I just can't believe I'm typing these words!)

I really can't begin to process this. I have felt completely numb for the past couple of days. All my hopes and dreams for the future have been ripped away from me in one fell swoop. I'm sure I will have lots to say about this soon, but right now I am at a complete loss for words. The only thing that gives me some odd solace is to now have a potential reason for Lydia's death. This process (menopause/ovarian failure) takes years and it could very well be that my prematurely aging system couldn't hold onto her. She was my womb's last gasp.

That's it -- no babies for me

2006-07-19T15:54:00.000-04:00

I can't fucking stand it -- I'm going through menopause. Blood tests came back normal for everything but FSH, which is at *60* (normal high is around 30 at midcycle, apparently)! What the fuck did I do to deserve all of this?!!!!!!!!! I can't even begin to process all of this. I just can't believe that I'll never have a living baby. There are no words to describe how devastated I am. Stunned, kicked in the gut, yet again. Except this time there's no hope of a happy ending...

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to the RE I go

2006-07-19T07:56:00.000-04:00

I've got the follow-up with the RE today (gosh, it seems like just two months ago that I was going for that first extremely useless appointment, how time flies!), and I am really hoping that he has some info for me. He'll have the results from my blood tests, so with any luck he'll be able to tell me why I haven't had a period in seven months. I'm going back and forth about bringing my husband along. I'm leaning toward not, jus because this is really all about me and my cycle at this point. I just don't want it to be one of those 1950s situations where the doctor talks to my husband about what's going on with my body. On the other hand, if the doctor has some bad news for me, I may want some moral support. The appointment's at 1:30 (and my husband's office is on the way), so I have time if I change my mind.

Anyway, other than that, I'm going to be spending the day cleaning up for the insurance adjuster who's coming tomorrow. She doesn't really need to know that we're basically a couple of slobs! Actually, our slobbery kept the robbers out of a couple of storage rooms (too much crap to bother with), so it's a lifestyle that has its uses!

Sanity restored

2006-07-17T17:45:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to let you all know that after scraping the bottom mood-wise, I have since managed to pull myself together a tad. (Of course, if you've already sent the emergency brownies and margarita mix, I wouldn't turn them away!) I had a nice long online chat with an overseas friend of mine, which helped to distract me and also get me thinking about some new creative outlets into which I can funnel all of my frustrations. I also had a nice long bath and gave myself a facial. If I were more of a girl (and had more than $2.49 in my purse), I would have taken myself into the salon for "the works". It would have been a good day to be introduced to the mysterious world of waxing. I tried giving myself a home wax once (I only tried it on my shins, thank god) and it didn't work at all. I'm guessing the salon has special spa wax or something that actually removes hair, as opposed to just the skin between one's hair follicles, as was my experience.

Anyway, after waking up in a near-suicidal fog, I'm feeling much better now. Maybe there is something to positive internet vibes... I wish I could take your collective advice and take a little getaway, but our budget is tighter than Oprah's underpants right now, so unfortunately that is out of the question. But maybe dinner out (there's a great cheap Indian resto nearby) or something. I've been a bit loathe to leave the house for any length of time since the break-in, but fuck it. There's nothing left to take! And I've proven that they can't even take my piece of mind. I'm keeping it safe and sound in my jar of leg wax.

I can't bloody stand it!!!!

2006-07-16T19:26:00.000-04:00

I've really had it. I was trying to put a brave face on after the home invasion, but it really feels like the last straw. Everything just seems completely pointless; my child is dead, my marriage is shaky at best, my career is going nowhere, we're up to our eyeballs in debt and now I don't even feel safe in my own home... What, exactly, is the point of it all??!!!! After spending three days cleaning up after the burglars and getting an exact inventory of what they took, I looked around and just thought, "Fuck it." I want to get off this bloody ride.

Now that the dust has settled...

2006-07-14T15:21:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm recovering from this recent disaster. Yesterday pretty much sucked. I spent the day cleaning up the mess that the intruders made, getting madder with every item that I put back. Frustration, helplessness and anger welled up so viscerally at one point that I spazzed out for a mintute and started throwing pillows around (the same ones that I had just picked up off the floor and put back neatly on the sofa). And even after I pulled myself together following that little episode, I was an emotional wreck most of the day. I'd be in the middle of a completely mundane task, like emptying the dishwasher or taking out the trash, and tears would well up in my eyes for no apparent reason. I did find myself thinking about Lydia a lot, probably because of the shock of finding her memory box spilled out all over the place (and then going through everything in it, just to make sure none of it was damaged). Having our home invaded and our valuables stolen also just made me think about how unimportant the "stuff" was. It didn't matter that they got my laptop and some jewelry and my husband's ID -- we were both unharmed. Besides a small (virtually worthless) coin collection of now defunct currencies and my husband's passport with the stamps from all of his world travels, they didn't take anything of sentimental value. They were just things, which will, with any luck, be covered by insurance.

It has really made me think about what's important. I talked to my husband about it last night and I told him that I want to go ahead with the procreation plan. I know he and I still have a lot to work out, but given that it'll probably be well over a year before we have a living child to deal with, we've got plenty of time to heal while I'm being poked and prodded. And who knows, baby-making nookie might turn out to be very healing in its own right.

Anyway, I am not going to let this burglary turn me into a paranoid freak who's scared of her own shadow. I'll probably double-check that I've locked the door from now on, but I am not going to give into extreme feelings of vulnerability, just because we suffered an unlucky hit. I'm convinced it was random. This is prime time for thieves, with a lot of people being away on vacation, and our driveway was empty. It's just too bad that we didn't have better bars on the basement windows (that's how they got in, they ripped out the bars). Anyway, we will replace those and possibly put up a fence to block off the back of the house (which we had been thinking of doing anyway, for privacy reasons), but otherwise life will go on as usual. Besides the uzi-toting ex-Navy Seal we've got standing guard, of course. He makes a nice addition to any home...

The universe is having a laugh: I've been burgled!

2006-07-12T22:20:00.000-04:00

Apparently I haven't suffered enough in the past two years, because I came home this afternoon from a meeting with a client to find that my house had been broken into. Stuff thrown everywhere, every box and drawer opened. They got my laptop (again! This was the replacement for the one that I had stolen from my car not quite 18 months ago), some jewelry, cameras, my husbands good watch... The most disturbing part was finding Lydia's memory box (with her pictures, ultrasound, the hat and blanket from the hospital, etc.) strewn all over the sofa. I hope they felt like complete bastards when they saw that stuff. But they were probably more upset that the box wasn't full of hundred dollar bills. When it comes down to it, they had a pretty pitiful loot. We don't have a lot of big ticket items and the street value of what they took couldn't top a few hundred bucks. But as for me, I have another big chink in the innocence armor. I can't even feel safe in my own home!

Screw that noise (or: Part II, in spite of myself)

2006-07-11T10:02:00.000-04:00

I am sick of hearing myself talk about the mechanations of my wounded marriage, even if it's mostly interior monologue (it's really hard to make your inner voice shut up). This post was supposed to be Part II in a series of why my husband acted like a deviant bastard for so long and what it means for the future of our relationship, but I just can't hash this over any more. The gist of it is this: I really don't know. The only mindset that is giving me any peace right now is to think of him like a recovering crack addict, and try to help him help himself. As near as I can tell, he'd been living in a depressive fog for longer than I'd known him and the polyamorous lifestyle was a way of quieting his own inner demons. So, now that the rug has been pulled out from under him, he has time and space to come to terms with whatever it was that he was running away from. On his part, perhaps there was a subconscious wish for me to find out so that I'd leave him, thereby proving to himself that either he was unlovable and/or women can't be trusted to give unconditional love. Given his relationship with his mother growning up, the latter wouldn't surprise me. (Okay, I guess I am going to talk about this, after all!)

As an odd by-product of all of this, we are being more honest with each other than we'd ever been before. I've never been good at intimacy. I think I was so self-conscious about myself, that as soon as I detected a safe comfort level with someone, I just started taking things for granted, skipping over any scary sharing of intimate thoughts and desires. I've always thought of myself as independent, so I learned not to rely on others for my needs. So, if my partner didn't ever cook me dinner or hold my hand in public or send me flowers, it was *okay*. I could cook for the both of us and I didn't need the other stuff. And on a certain level, I still feel that way. I don't think it's fair or necessary to go into a relationship with a list of non-negotiable terms and expect your partner to reprogram his personality just to placate you. On the other hand, partners should want to make each other happy, and it's not unreasonable to ask for things that you'd like. This is elementary stuff for most normal people, but I'm a slow learner when it comes to interpersonal relationships.

So, for the time being as far as the marriage goes we're taking it one day at a time. Nothing is written in stone, yet, but we're being as kind, considerate and loving toward each other as we can, and that is honestly making the atmosphere around here very pleasant.

The back story, Part I

2006-07-05T14:30:00.000-04:00

First, thank you all for your unconditional support regarding my last post. It was indeed a very difficult subject to write about, which is why it took me until now to do so. On one level it’s more than a little humiliating to find out that one’s husband has been a serial philanderer for longer than you’ve been together, but I take some odd consolation in the fact that I was conned by a professional-grade lout with years of experience.

Okay, that was more bitter than I intended. But in vino veritas. I'm enjoying a nice after-lunch glass of sangria, and not because I'm distraught, but because I'm feeling *good*. It's a beautiful day, I finished a satisfying web project and for the first time in a while I'm feeling a sense of purpose. The reason for the newfound direction will have to wait, however, as first I must deal with my feeling around the state of my marriage. So, here we go...

When I first met my husband I was at the tail end of an unhappy first marriage -- we both were. K. and I worked together and both of us seemed to find something in each other that was hopeful and good. Not that we ever had much time alone -- the odd cigarette break or waiting for others to arrive at the local watering hole. But there was an undeniable connection. This went on for the duration of my short tenure at this particular job. When my then marriage finally kicked the bucket, I had been working at another place for a few months and it didn't take long for K. and I to get together. It was very rocky from the start. In the two years before he moved in we had operatic break-ups on a number of occasions. At the heart of the matter was my desire to "move forward" and his being understandably gun-shy about getting into another committed relationship.

All this to say that this relationship was never smooth sailing. That being said, I had always felt that K. and I had great potential. I felt more passionately about him than anyone else with whom I'd had an adult relationship and in a blindly romantic fashion I always believed that our love would win out. But just as ill-equipped as he was to live up to this potential, I took too much for granted and let pride get into the way of expressing how much I loved and appreciated him. I don't mean to say that I was a cold-hearted cow, but I gave him a long lead in the name independence. In trying to give him (and me) "space", I helped created a chasm between us that allowed for any number of... I was going to say indescretions, but I'm really not going to go down the route of blaming myself for his infidelity. All I mean to say is that I tacitally agreed to a certain amount of separateness in our lives and it was within this gap that he was able to form (or keep, as the case applies) inappropriate relationships with other people.

Once he moved in I took this as the big green light that our relationship was for keeps. I started introducing him to my friends and I brought him home to meet my family. But none of this could be reciprocated on his end. He had no local friends (the only friends he had were back in England) and he had cut all ties with his family. And this last point is very significant. You see, I came from a very stable (though somewhat unconventional) family. My parents had been high school sweethearts, were still married and I was close to them. I had two brothers and a sister, and although my sister had fucked off years ago, I was still relatively close to my brothers. So, I had a reference for what love and family could be. K. had no such reference. He had an extremely unstable family -- a mentally ill mother, an absent father and an abusive step-father. He left home when he was 15 and never looked back. So the idea that he could happlily reconcile himself to domestic bliss was really never in the cards. He had never been able to trust anyone in his life and things weren't going to magically change just because he started hanging his shirts in my closet.

more in Part II

Happy Birthday Kate and Lydia

2006-06-19T08:21:00.000-04:00

Thinking of Sarah and her husband as they mark Kate's first birthday. I wish we had "met" under very different circumstances and that we could joyfully celebrate our daughters' joint birthday.

Thanks to all for your very kind messages about Lydia's flowers. It means so much to have the support of this community and it's very nice to think that Lydia's spirit is remembered. Peace to you all.

My Lydia

In Loving Memory

2006-06-15T08:07:00.000-04:00

The long gap in posts is down to a couple of things -- busy, busy, busy with work and sad, sad, sad about the upcoming 2nd anniversary of the loss of Lydia. I don't even have time to post properly right now, but I wanted to share a picture of the memorial flowers that we had done for church last Sunday (it was the closest Sunday to her birthday that they had open). The arrangement is a bit too formal for my tastes, but they did a nice job overall. It was very nice to hear her name out loud at the beginning of the service when they announce who this week's flowers are in memory of, and many people came up to me afterwards and asked about her. In particular, the fellow who is in charge of the newsletter (which I help out with) approached me with the program of service in his hand. He pointed to the line which mentions the flowers ("This week's flowers are given in loving memory of Lydia H___ F___, by her parents") and asked, "Is this you? What's the story?". I replied that it was for my daughter who was stillborn two years ago. "It's just nice to be able to remember her," I said. "And now we can all remember her, too," he replied, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. It was a nice sentiment.

More heartache in blogland

2006-06-04T17:38:00.000-04:00

Zarqa has lost her baby. I don't know why more sadness has to be piled upon people who have already experienced a lifetime of hurt; it's beyond unfair. She is taking her blog offline soon, but I have lit a virtual candle for her and her baby girl. I "met" Zarqa in an online pregnancy loss support group and it's because of her that I started this blog in the first place. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't have found this extremely supportive and well-spoken group of women and I can't thank her enough for that. Zarqa, I'm so sorry that you're going through this right now. I would gladly take on your suffering for you if I could. I know you are strong and that you will get through this somehow, but your strength should not have to be continually tested like this. I will be thinking of you and hoping that the love of your husband, family and friends is of some comfort to you.

Sweet dreams

2006-06-01T09:15:00.000-04:00

Despite being on Day 3 of a nasty headcold, I really must get into the office today. But before I shove off, I just wanted to record a dream I had last night before I forget it. I dreamt that I was on the space shuttle with several other bloggers, including Lorem, Sarah, Catherine and Laura. But it wasn't a happy space journey -- we were reentering the earth's atmosphere and it was obvious something was going wrong. We were going much too fast and we were about to burn up. As abject fear gripped us, we all started hugging and crying -- it was awful! I was about to say that it was odd that none of my real-life inner circle were there, but perhaps the dream was a metaphor for all of the horrible, scary things that all of us in blogland have had to endure and how we've all done our best to support each other, despite the futility of it all. Or maybe all the phlegm in my sinus cavity is wreaking havoc with my nocturnal movies.

Anyway, off to work to try to salvage a few billable hours this week. I've printed up a little sign saying "Danger: Germ Zone" with an adorable picture of a green slimy germy thing. Office humor, ya gotta love it...

Ups and downs

2006-05-29T08:26:00.000-04:00

I'm being to feel slighly manic-depressive again. On Saturday, I expereinced a brief moment of pure contentedness, for the first time in a very long while. It had been a gorgeous day and I'd spent some time in the garden weeding and planting perennials. In the early evening, my husband and I assembled this outdoor fireplace I'd bought a couple weeks ago. The finished product was rather nice.

Feeling very satisfied with our work, we built a fire and sat in front of it, sipping some wine. It was lovely to be sitting out together on a lovely evening, with the wine and the dancing flames. At that very moment, I felt very, very content. But all good things must come to an end and the next morning I woke up feeling as distraught as ever. I felt trapped in suburban hell, in an unstable childless marriage and it all seemed so pointless. I work at an unfulfilling job, just so that I can have the privelege of living in a house that I spend more time maintaining than enjoying. I thought about what I would do if I didn't have to spend my weekends taking care of this house and garden. I specifically thought about what I would do if I were living in London and not here. I'm beginning to think that a change of scenery and a fresh start need to be more than metaphorical.

I've been going back and forth these past few months about the idea of selling my house and moving to the UK. My husband is from London and we had often talked about moving there once we were financially stable. Now I'm thinking that maybe I should sell the house and just do it. I have a couple of friends with IT companies in London that would potentially have work for me and with the proceeds from the house I would have a nice cushion to last me in case a job wasn't immediately forthcoming. It's certainly doable. And maybe my husband could even join me after a few months. After we've both had some time to think about our lives and what we want. The more that I think about it, the more it seems like what I really should do. Because I feel like I'm going to dissolve completely if I stay here much longer, and I'm too young to fade into the sunset just yet.

Goodbye Nelson, we hardly knew ye

2006-05-25T16:17:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm back from visiting my parents. It was a bittersweet visit. I had brought my dog Nelson down with the hopes that we could find a new home for him, or at least a shelter that would take him. Neither of these options panned out, so I had no choice to bring him to the pound. It absolutely broke my heart, but there was nothing else I could do. The bigger he got, the more evident it was that there was a lot of pit bull in him and without extensive training and constant vigilance, he was going to be a potential threat. On separate occasions, he attacked both of my parents' dogs when they went after his food, and his viciousness really frightened me. I had a long conversation with a close family friend who happens go be a vet and he concurred that Nelson would need life-long training and could never be left alone with other animals. The fact that we live in a densely populated area with an unfenced yard compounds the risk. He was not a good match for us and had I known that he was a pit bull, I never would have taken him. But that doesn't do much to allay the sadness I feel about losing him. It's going to be a long while before I will wake up in the morning and not instinctively steel myself up to take him outside. Despite everything, I miss him and am heartbroken that it had to end like this.

Other than that I'm just getting over a nasty bout of food poisoning that voided me of all fluids and solids in my body that weren't permanently attached to a vital organ repeatedly Sunday night. It took me a day and a half to recover and I'm still not 100%. On the bright side, I've probably lost a pound or two.

That's it for now. I'm too sad about Nelson to write about anything else. Who knew I'd miss the spastic, shoe-destroying nutcase so much? I'll catch up on the ponderings from the weekend some other time.

Addendum

2006-05-19T11:49:00.000-04:00

I wrote the last post in the heat of the moment after my husband and I had the little tiff over the car situation. Those kinds of arguments are rather cathartic for me and I usually end up feeling better for them, but I don't think it works the same way for my husband. I think instead of a release it just adds to his stress level, so I guess we should learn a compromise way of handling disagreements. My parents had the occasional ring-dinger in earshot of us, but they always seemed to make up afterwards, so I'm able to roll with the ebb and flow of emotional uprisings fairly well. I don't know much about the details of my husbands childhood (except the big stuff, which was pretty nasty), so I don't know if there were many arguments or if there were what the aftermath was like. Anyway, I just wanted to add that despite everything that has happened, I still really do love my husband dearly and if I had one wish (besides the obvious of having my daughter with me) it would be that we could heal together and rebuild. I know that may not be possible, but the wish is still there deep in my heart.

There's no place like home

2006-05-19T09:02:00.000-04:00

I've decided to go down and spend the weekend at my parents'. I need some space to think and this house is way too claustrophobic at the moment for major contemplation. This makes things a bit difficult for my husband since I'm taking the car, but there's a bus within easy walking distance which takes him right to his office, so he's not exactly stranded. Never mind that when I suggested the bus option, he reacted like I just asked him to perform his morning toilet in the middle of the street. It was all right for me when I had a contract downtown for a few weeks in December and bus fare seemed like a more reasonable option then paying extortionate parking fees. Ah, the fond memories of waiting for the bus in minus 20 degree weather, cars splashing up dirty slush onto my ankles. But for Lord Man it's completely out of the question.

Anyway, hope everyone has a super weekend. They say that the rain in finally going to let up on Sunday, which would be fantastic. For the past couple of weeks I've felt like we were in that Ray Bradbury story about life on Venus (or was it Mars) where it rains all the time except for one hour every seven years. Now that I think of it, that pretty much sums up the past couple of years of my life...

Shaking the etch-a-sketch of life (and a little bit of baby puke)

2006-05-17T07:38:00.000-04:00

I have an old acquaintance who I knew just before she got married 8 years ago or so. Since then, she has had two children and keeps everyone in her life updated on her family via a blog. She started writing it back in the days before blogrolls, so we all get emailed when there is a new post. I followed her through the first pregnancy, but the second one coincided with my loss, so I stopped reading. I couldn't stop the update messages from coming in (there was no way to unsubscribe and I didn't want to hurt her feelings by asking to be taken off the list), so I just made a rule in my email program to automatically delete her messages. Anyway, she must have changed her email address, because one slipped through the other day and instead of binning it right away, I took a deep breath and followed the link to her blog. And, of course, what do I see but that this barely 30 year-old woman with a four year-old and an 18 month-old toddler is expecting again! They had just moved into a new home and they had just started talking about having another child when, surprise! And of course there is no history of loss to prevent her from immediately informing her family, friends and children about this nascent pregnancy, so she starts blathering on from day one about how hard it will be to have three small kids but of course she wouldn't trade it in for anything, blah, blah, blah (who me, bitter?). I quickly scrolled back through a few of her recent posts and found that she wrote about almost nothing else besides the cute antics of her children and what colours they should paint the rooms of the new house. Hmmm...

As soon as I got over my short-lived pity fest, I immediately started thinking about her situation. Living in uber-suburbia in some milquetoast midwestern town with three small kids and nothing to talk about besides baby puke and wallpaper samples -- okay, it's probably bliss for her, but it doesn't sound like living the dream to me. I guess I'm just trying to count my blessings right now. It's not sour grapes (a big part of me would love to be covered in baby puke right now), I swear. I have an opportunity to shake the etch-a-sketch of life and get a fresh start. Find out what I'm all about, with most of my roles stripped away from me. I won't be a wife or partner or mother (except in my heart). I'll have a clean slate. Albeit full of eraser marks, but ready to be drawn on. That's a poor analogy, because I don't want this to be a passive exercise. This next stage is going to be about me exploring my own desires and motivations. And if there happens to be some baby puke involved, I'll try not to blog about it too much.

Happy Mother's Day to the rest of us

2006-05-14T07:26:00.000-04:00

It's Mother's Day, and once again there will be no handmade cards nor breakfast in bed nor even dandilions in a jar to mark the day. There will be nothing, in fact. Nobody in my own family (not even my husband) has found it necessary these past two years to recognize my motherhood on this day. Perhaps they're trying to be kind by not reminding me of my loss, as if I would forget on such a day, or perhaps they just don't consider me a mother. Either way, it amounts to the same thing.

So, as another Mother's Day is upon us, I just wanted to wish all of you in blogland a peaceful day. Whether you have children by your side or just in your memory, I hope you can find some small way of celebrating your strength, beauty, compassion, creativity, and loving nature -- all of the qualitites that make us mothers in our hearts.

Highs and lows

2006-05-12T07:48:00.000-04:00

As a few people have pointed out, it's been a roller-coaster week here in blogland. It's been largely overshadowed by Catherine's devastating loss of Travis in the same week that marked the first birthday of her first "too-good-for-earth" son, Alex. The fact that she has one healthy, breathing child toddling around doesn't make her situation any less horrific. That's just way too much sadness for one family.

And then we have the wonderful news of the safe arrival of Jill's new daughter Caitlin. A hopeful, jubilant event that deserves to be celebrated with all of the love and joy that we can muster.

And in between there were a few early and mid-term pregnancies that had their share of scary, trepidatious, and also cautiously optimistic moments.

I think the most heartening aspect surrounding all of the news this week is how everyone rallied round those who needed comfort and celebrated with those who had happiness to share. I was particularly in awe at the tremendous amount of grace that Catherine displayed when she joyfully posted the news of Jill's healthy delivery, just days after losing Travis. When most of us would be subsumed with grief, unable to think of anyone or anything else other than our own horrible loss, she was able to share in Jill's happiness with complete sincerity. That is a strength I envy and as I wade through my own petty problems I hope to use her example to help me act with as much grace and forebearance as I can muster.

There are no words

2006-05-07T09:56:00.000-04:00

Two people who have already been through a lifetime of hurt have been dealt another horrific blow. Catherine and Steve have lost their baby. I don't know what else to say at the moment, except the obvious, like this shouldn't be happening. My thoughts are with them.

Fear and fertility

2006-05-04T08:06:00.000-04:00

As I start becoming more and more comfortable about my decision to pull up sticks and move away from here, I find that fear is kicking in. Fear of being alone, fear of being overwhelmed by grief again, fear of regretting my decision. It reminds me of when I got into the 5th month of pregnancy and I was starting to show and feel the baby move. All of a sudden it dawned on me that in just a few months I'd have a real baby to deal with -- how would I cope? I was afraid of post-partum depression, being bored staying at home all day with the baby, not knowing what to do if the baby wouldn't stop crying, etc. Ironically, I don't think I spent more than a few random seconds worrying about the baby actually *dying*.

On the fertility front, I've just come back from my appointment with the specialist. It was a bit of a let down, as all he did was order some blood tests. I mean, really, the whole thing could have been conducted over the phone (which would have saved me 3 months waiting for this bloody appointment). The next available slot for my follow-up was July 19, so I'm just going to have to not think about this for a while. Off the top of his head, his hypothesis was either a thyroid problem or PCOS. I have no idea if either are treatable, or what the treatments would involve. He was encouraged by the fact that I respond to Provera (meaning I can actually menstruate), which probably rules out early menopause (which is what I was most worried about). For the time being, I'm just going to enjoy being period-free. I can wear white shorts whenever I want, woo-hoo!

I love the smell of W getting flayed in the morning

2006-05-01T06:31:00.000-04:00

As someone on this blog commented, this could go down as one of the best pieces of American political satire of all time:

http://www.btcnews.com/btcnews/1310

My perfect angel

2006-04-29T21:20:00.000-04:00

It's amazing how the grief can really kick you in the butt, even after all of this time. I was just downstairs watching "The Name of the Rose" with my husband and all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I just started thinking about holding my dead daughter in my arms. I relived the whole surreal scene in the hospital when the nurse placed her in my arms and left the room and I was left alone with this tiny, silent creature. And once again I had tears streaming down my face. Why did this happen, why couldn't I protect her? Why did she have to die? I have asked these questions so often over the past couple of years (almost), that I am surprised at the intensity at which they still haunt me. I guess there is no timespan to grief. I guess I will always carry this with me and that from time to time it will continue to kick me in the butt. Maybe that's how I will stay connected to Lydia. Maybe the sadness keeps her real to me. I just wish so much that it weren't so; I wish she were here and I didn't have to live with this grief. No words can describe how much I miss her. I will always treasure that one first and final moment I had with her in the hospital. I just with that it had been the first of many.

Turn, turn, turn

2006-04-24T07:51:00.000-04:00

In June I will have been living in this house for 10 years. Which means that it will also be 10 years since I started trying to have children. Now, there was a divorce and a 3 year hiatus in there, but it has certainly been on my mind since then. It is odd to think that person I started out trying to have children with is not the person that I ended up having my first child with. And the person that I had my first child with will most likely not be the person with whom I have any subsequent children. I never thought that my life would get this complicated.

Ten years ago I was settling down with the wrong man. We had been married for 3 years and I had just started my first "real" job. We had plans about children, travel, home renovations, basically the whole "adult" package. What we didn't have any plans for were the real essentials like intellectual, spiritual and creative development. There was this chasm between us which couldn't be filled by the trappings of suburban life. So, when things fell apart a few years later it wasn't a huge surprise.

When I met my current husband, I really thought that I had learned some lessons and knew what I wanted and needed from a partner. Unfortunately, the same wasn't true for him. I guess I'm not terribly surprised that this relationship has gone down in flames, too, but I am surprised at how spectacularly it failed. I am surprised at how gullible and naive I could have been and how duplicitous and cold my partner could be. Given all of the loss and tragedy I've been through in the past few years, I guess it will take a lot to surprise me from now on.

The gears of the next phase of my life are starting to turn. By this fall I plan to be far away from here, starting out on a new chapter. I'm terrified of taking the leap, but I think I'm more terrified at the prospect of staying where I am, and that fact makes me more sure that I'm doing the right thing.

Happiness is... a healthy new baby for Anam!

2006-04-19T12:49:00.000-04:00

Many congratulations to Anam and her family on the safe arrival of her new son! My eyes are full of tears of happiness right now... Give him a big kiss from all of us here in blogland!

Dream therapy

2006-04-17T08:08:00.000-04:00

I know a lot of us in this sad circle are often deeply affected by our dreams. We dream of seeing the children that we've lost or reliving the horror of losing them all over again. The dreams are sometimes comforting, sometimes disturbing and they sometimes have the power to affect our mood for many days. I had such a dream last night. It didn't seem to have a narrative, rather it was this patchwork quilt of scenes. At one point I was working in an office and it was either late at night or the weekend, because there were only a few of us around trying to finish an urgent project. It was mostly men in the group and as we were working and chatting they started talking about their children. They passed around photos and told anecdotes of the cute antics their kids got up to. At one point one of them turned to me and said how lucky I was not to be tied down with a family, that it must be a great feeling being able to do whatever I wanted. My first instinct was to escape this uncomfortable conversation, which I did. I ran to the bathroom and hid in a stall, but instead of breaking down in tears, I started thinking about what my co-worker had just said. He was right -- I could do whatever I wanted. I didn't have to sleep-walk my way around life just waiting and hoping that someday I would have another child so that everything could be okay again. Because if I'm honest with myself I have to respect the fact that that may never happen. I may not get a chance to have another child. And I have to find someway to be okay with that. By the same token, things with my husband might not work out and I have to resolve my feelings about that.

My dream went on with a variety of incongruous scenes. At one point I was at a (flower) nursery where a florist was walking through the gardens with a bride, pointing out possible selections for her bouquet. Only the bride was wearing this ridiculous Elizabethan-style gown with four foot wide hip bustles. I couldn't believe that no one told her how silly she looked, but her bridesmaids trailed behind her in lavender tulle completely oblivious. Then I was on a small beach and there were these two men in tuxedos sitting at the water's edge and talking about life. One of them picked up a dead seagull that was lying beside him and told his friend to rip it open. His friend did and inside there was this beautiful irridescent black feather with a white tip. Somehow this was supposed to provide some mystical insight into the meaning of life, but I didn't quite grasp it. Then this man, who I obviously had some kind of history with, came up to me on the beach and asked me if I was ready to make a decision. I think he wanted me to run away with him, but I wasn't sure if that was what I was supposed to do. So I turned away and started walking down the beach where I saw a bunch of suburban couples having a bonfire party. They were playing volley-ball and getting really drunk and all of the men were making passes at their friends' wives. It all seemed so Bacchinalian (in a bad way) and I knew I didn't want that life, whatever it was.

This dream doesn't have an ending. It flitted around for a little while longer and then I just woke up, feeling -- I don't know, feeling like there were many possibilities for the next stage in my life and that I need to keep an open mind about which path I take. So today I'm in a very contemplative mood and I have a feeling that this dream and all of its bizarre uncertainty will stay with me for a while. It's comforting in an odd way to know that my subconscious desires, fears and motivations are able to make themselves known when I need to understand them most. What I'm going to do about them at this point, though, is still anyone's guess...

Happy (belated) Birthday, Strummer!

2006-04-14T21:09:00.000-04:00

Even though this post is 2 days late, I was thinking of deadbabyparents on Wednesday and hoping they were getting through the day okay. Strummer should be entering her terrible twos right now, giving her parents lots of heck. Here's to your first born, guys -- I so wish she could be here with you.

Easter dresses

2006-04-14T20:37:00.000-04:00

On the way home from driving my husband to the office this morning, I started thinking about how we're not spending Easter with my family this year. We missed Thanksgiving and Christmas with them, too, so it's hard to let another holiday pass apart from them. But my husband and I both have to work and things are still rather fragile between us, so we're not quite ready for a family gathering yet. Then it occurred to me that we'd get to go the Easter service at my new church (well, it will be sort of "Easter-lite", since it's not really a Christian church), which would at least be something positive. This led to thinking about what I would wear (since I usually wear a lot of black, I'm going to have to dig out a wedding-guest dress from the back of the closet), which led to thinking about what I would have dressed Lydia in if she were here. A frilly dress with lots of flowers and lace, no doubt. And this made me start sobbing, right in the middle of traffic. I want her here so much sometimes it hurts...

On the Nelson-the-dog front, I contacted every no-kill shelter in the area and they're all full. I've put the word out to everyone that I can think of and no one will take him. If I can't find another home for him this week, I'm going to have no choice but to take him to the pound. He is too strong and aggressive for me and I worry all the time that he will get away from me and do somebody harm. I will miss him, but he really has to go. The people who had him before us were about to take him to the pound themselves, so if anything he's had a few extra, happy months on this planet. And who knows, maybe by some miracle he'll find new owners before it's too late.

And on that happy note, I'm off to read for a while and get an early night. I spent a couple of hours in the garden today and I feel pleasantly tired. Hopefully a good night's sleep awaits...

Quick post about nothing

2006-04-12T08:32:00.000-04:00

This has to be quick, because I've got to get ready to go a client's, but I can't let so many days go by without posting! What's on my mind today is the mixed feelings I have about trying to find a new home for Nelson, the spastic dog. He just needs way more attention and space (we have a pretty small, non-fenced yard) than we can offer and I feel terrible about the amount of time he's been spending in his crate these days. It was a lousy time for us to get a dog and if I'd had any idea of the amount of emotional turmoil that had been about to hit the fan, I never would have taken him in. That being said, I have grown attached to the big guy and it will be sad to see him go.

Other than that, it's been a beautiful week weather-wise, but I've been so busy with work that I've spent zero time out in the garden. Maybe this afternoon when I get back from the office. If I think of it like a treat rather than a chore (right now the big job is clearing out the beds, which are full of winter debris), then maybe I'll be more enthusiastic about it.

And on that note, I've got to get ready. It's 8:30 already, where did the morning go???!!!

Laugh for the day

2006-04-07T18:09:00.000-04:00

Minimum Security

Happiness in blogland

2006-04-06T10:48:00.000-04:00

So happy for Zarqa today!!! It's been such a hard road for her and even though this is just the first step, I can't help but feel so overjoyed for her! I hope this is the start of many happy milestones.

And thinking happy thoughts for Anam, as well. Baby #3 is due in two weeks and she and her family may be taking the plunge and buying a new house. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say! A new house, a new baby... everything's coming up roses!

As for me, I'm still feeling relatively calm and centered. I'm trying to emanate as much love and optimism as I can muster and with any luck it will reflect back to me in the near future. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to enjoy every moment as best I can.

Right, well I've got a lot of work to do today, so no time to dilly-dally with labourious introspection right now. Take care, blogland, let's keep this positive roll going!

What difference a day makes

2006-04-04T09:35:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the weirdest day emotionally that I've had in ages. I started off the morning sobbing in despair and ended the day laughing in bed with my husband at a silly Brit comedy. In between I went up and down at least a half dozen times. And despite my penchant for ineffectual ephiphanies, my resultant good mood at the end of the day was down to only one minor one: that I deserve to be happy. And on some level I do have control on how happy I can be.

I have more to say on all of this, but I have a lot of work today, so it'll have to keep for later. One other thing that really helped yesterday was going around and reading other blogs in our sad circle and seeing that many of us were actually feeling pretty good these days (or at least yesterday). That despite everything, there were still more things in life to be happy about than despair over. So this morning, even though my husband has to get rid of his car today because we can no longer afford the payments and debt threatens to strangle us slowly, I feel a sense of calm. Somehow we will get through this, somehow I will get through this.

And now, I've got to go reapply the rose paint on my glasses before it wears off...

This too shall pass...

2006-04-03T10:59:00.000-04:00

Every time I start to feel like I've got a foothold on my equilibrium, something happens and my mood takes a nosedive. This morning I took the dog outside and as we were walking around the backyard I started looking at all of the new growth sprouting up in the beds. Rather than being uplifting, this sight managed to depress me. It made me miss Lydia and all of the things we should be doing together, it made me miss the love that is slowly seeping out of my marriage, it made me miss happiness and optimism in general. I don't know where happiness is anymore, I don't know what to do to get it. After barely shedding a tear in the past month, I find myself sobbing uncontrollably this morning. Wailing once more for all of the losses and the sense of hopelessness that seems to have subsumed my life. I know that given the roller coaster that I'm on that soon this extreme sadness will end and somehow I will find a way to be productive and get through the day. And maybe tomorrow I'll have regained some small sense of purpose and I'll be able to smile and laugh, maybe even about this very post. For now, though, I'm back in the pit. And the view really sucks from here.

Even the computer thinks I'm depressed

2006-03-30T13:53:00.000-05:00

Feeling slightly better than the other day. Had a couple of little talks with my partner, which were upsetting and somewhat frustrating, but also encouraging on a certain level. At least I was able to express some of my core emotions in a way that I felt was understood, so that was a success in of itself.

Today while surfing around on a quick break, I found this colour test which analyzes your emotional state by the order of coloured cubes you pick. My dad had a book about this type of analysis (one of those great 70s self-therapy deals) and my siblings and I used to have a lot of fun picking out coloured cards and telling each other how mental we were. My results today were scarily on target:

"Life for some time now has been somewhat depressing and you feel 'under the weather'. You are looking for a means by which you can escape from all the pressures of everyday life. But you must remember that the 'Past does not equal 'Tomorrow'. You are seeking a way to escape from all the trials and tribulations that oppress you at this time, but at least you haven't given up - if one pattern of behaviour doesn't seem to work then you'll change it for another.

You haven't been feeling that great lately. Both physically and mentally you are exhausted. To your best friends, those who know you and love you, it shows. Your self esteem has been reduced almost to a minimum and in order to recover - and recover you will - it is necessary that you get away from it all, even if it be only for a few days.

It is amazing that you yourself believe that old 'adage' that you are a misunderstood person - and you feel that because of this you are being left out in the cold. It is because of this lack of believed understanding that you feel the need to conform to society in general - but this situation leaves you 'cold' knowing that you are not appreciated for your true self. Any relationship that you are developing at this time does not seem to involve any true emotional commitment, you seem to be just playing along.

The stress and tension that you are experiencing at this time is perhaps due to your inability to achieve security and appreciation from those closest to you. This is resulting in considerable pressures. You find the situation as it stands most frustrating. You are the sort of person that would like to experience all and everything very intensely but unfortunately you are not receiving the warmth and understanding that you feel you are entitled to. Matters are not going too well. You seek a sympathetic ear but it is not forthcoming. This situation is extremely nerve-racking - and what is more humiliating is that no-one seems to care and you are powerless to do anything about it.

Matters are not all that they would appear to be and you are critical of the existing conditions which you feel are confused and disorganised. You are therefore looking for a modus operendi which will simplify the situation so that you will be able to see the 'trees in the woods'."

I hate it when a computer program can peg me so accurately! It makes my neuroticisms seem so pedestrian. I want to be creatively and uniquely depressed!

Anyway, time to get back to work. If I make some more money and we start pulling ourselves out of this debt maybe I'll be less depressed. Or maybe matters are really not as they appear and I will soon find out that I really the long-lost heir of an ex-patriated European royal family. Not very likely, though...

So much for winding down...

2006-03-25T13:01:00.000-05:00

I must admit that I'm having a bad day. The project from hell (trade show) threatens never to end, my dog ate the heel of my good boots for the third time in a month and I've got a raging headache. I dcided to try to unwind a bit between coming home from my client's office and starting work again, so I cracked open a beer, put on Radio 4 and settled down for 20 minutes of solitaire. But as I listened to the radio, I found myself tensing up even more than before. It should have been a harmless program, the reading of the memoires of the wife of a British minister (politician, not cleric) during the war. She started off talking about her early years, teaching in a London girls' school, then meeting and marrying her husband. But then of course almost instantly after marriage she found herself "encumbered" by a new baby, and then the two more that quickly followed. This is a story that the whole world seems to take for granted and that I will never be able to tell. There will be no light-hearted remembrances of the carefree, happy times before the children just "happened" to come along. Everything will be planned and calculated and ... well, what am I talking about. It is very probably that none of this will happen at all. That I am doomed to be childless and at the rate things are going, alone.

Fuck it, I am in too bad a mood to do this right now. I'll try again tomorrow...

(On a side note, I can't believe it's been over a week since my last post. It has been a busy week, but that's no excuse. Especially since the change of season has put me in a rather reflective mood lately, tonight aside. Now that the snow is finally almost all gone, little sprouts are starting to poke through the matted wet leaves that cover my flower beds. The lawns, on the other hand, are a sea of mud, but that's another story.)

Thinking of Thomas

2006-03-18T12:59:00.000-05:00

Another beautiful Thomas had a birthday yesterday. Thinking of him, his parents and sister and the new sibling who is about to join the family. May you all find some peace.

We are the world...

2006-03-18T08:49:00.001-05:00

Putting aside my own dire straits for a moment this week, I followed a link that someone sent me about a charitable resource for American teachers: DonorsChoose and was pretty impressed. It seems like a great way for teachers to find funding for special projects. Potential donors can browse a list of projects that needs funding and give accordingly. I think it's a great idea that could be possibly spread to other areas, although as my brother is an elementary school teacher in the Bronx, I understand how strapped teachers are for sometimes even basic supplies. So, if you've been looking for a worthy casue to donate to, check it out. It's a fully recognized charity, as well, so everything you give to the site is tax deductible.

I don't mean to sound all "Mother Theresa" here, but despite how bad things are here right now (the mortgage is two payments behind, if that's any indication), I try not to forget how fortunate we are, really. Somehow we will get through this -- one way or another there will always be food on the table. Other people live like this all the time, with the constant anxiety of not knowing where their next meal is coming from. This is a walk in the park compared to what a great percentage of world goes through on a daily basis. So, for everyone around the world living in need, I will not complain about my own meagre setbacks anymore.

So, come on, everybody, do your best Willie Nelson: "There's a choice we're making, we're saving our own lives..."

The agonies of defeat

2006-03-15T08:56:00.000-05:00

It's a financial Black Wednesday here at our house. Because we each got short checks last month, we got hopelessly behind and now we are, to put it bluntly, screwed. We'd been living on the edge for quite a while and now it appears that we have fallen off. Luckily, the fridge is stocked and I have enough gas in the car to get me to my next interview and back (if I get one), but otherwise things are pretty grim...

So, I've got to pull myself up from my bootstraps! It's sadness and a sense of despair that have gotten me in this horrible mess, and I've got to snap out of it and figure out a way to start bringing more cash in. If I were back in Boston, I'd take a cafe job or something, but here I'm held back by my rather tepid French. I mean, I could probably get by alright on the job, but I get nervous and I'm sure I'd stammer enough through any interview to get myself disqualified from the outset. Anyway, I've got a few ideas, although it's questionable whether they'll bear fruit in time to keep us afloat.

That's all I can think about right now, so I must sign off and get to work. Maybe I should go outside and look for leprechauns...

The Saturday Post

2006-03-11T08:49:00.000-05:00

I just saw that this is my 59th post... pathetic! Lorem celebrated her first blogging anniversary recently and she had over *300* posts. What have I been doing with my time? It's not like instead of blogging I was busy drafting a Middle East peace agreement or studying for my medical board exams. I've been frittering away my time, that's what I've been doing. Writing posts in my head and never bothering to publish them. It's shameful, really. Okay, from now on I am going to try to write something every day, even if it's just "I'm too exhausted/hungover/emotionally drained to write today. Tune in tomorrow..."

Well, the well wishes for my interview must have had an effect, because it went rather well (three wells in one sentence -- that's quite an achievement!). They're sending me over to the client for an interview next week. It's a regular corporate job, 40 hrs/wk, 3 weeks vacation (that is going to be tough), but it sounds like a good team and the job seems varied and interesting. Maybe going in to an office every day will help my mental state. At any rate, the regular paycheck certainly won't go amiss.

Just heard an exasperating program on the BBC (Radio 4) about a woman who's trying to get access to her frozen embryoes, despite her ex denying permission (story here). They took listeners' reactions on air, and there were a couple of -- I want to say "idiots", but let's just say less enlightened folks -- who were completely against assisted reproduction, in any shape or form. According to them, children are a blessing from God, and if God deems you unfit to conceive (or carry to term), then that's just the way it is. The logic here is just so full of holes, it's pointless even to mention them, but it still gets my goat. I found myself turning the volume off as soon as I heard a warbly elderly voice start railing off on "women who want it all". I don't want it all, I just want a baby. Anyway...

Well, I've been up for 3 hours and all I've accomplished is making coffee and ironing a few shirts. I've got an exciting day ahead of me, full of chores, errands and boring web work... I guess it's no wonder that I'm putting it all off. At least I managed to post today. By my calculations, I'll need to post 6 times a day until June in order to catch up to Lorem. I'm tired just thinking about it!

Happy Birthday, Thomas

2006-03-09T10:30:00.000-05:00

Thinking of Kristin and her family today on Thomas' first birthday. Were that he were here in more than just spirit.

I gotta wear shades

2006-03-08T10:50:00.000-05:00

I wish I felt so optimistic about the future and my life in general that I felt I needed protective eyewear to shield me from the stellar brightness of it all, but I can claim to feeling slightly better this week. It started on Sunday evening when I was watching T.V. and feeling rather sorry for myself, when it occurred to me that I didn't have to be sitting there blankly at the screen, that I really could do something more interesting or at least productive. "But what?" I found myself replying to myself, "I'm too tired and too depressed to do anything else right now." So, I tried a different tack, namely thinking about what I would like to be doing if someone were to walk in with a movie camera documenting my life. Would I really want them to come in and have to park the camera in front of the sofa, with me staring lifelessly at the T.V.? And tomorrow morning, would I be proud to be found in front of the computer playing endless rounds of solitaire or aimlessly surfing the net, or could I possibly get up to something more worthy of documenting? I thought about all of this for a while (while still half-watching whatever it was on T.V.) and though it didn't incite me to jump up and start renovating my basement or get to work on my long thought about novel, it did make me feel less depressed, or less obligated to be depressed, anyway. It wasn't an incredible epiphany, but I guess the idea of living more consciously gave me some sense of purpose.

And so, Monday morning I awoke feeling vaguely hopeful for the first time in weeks. And since then I've been more productive and positive and on the way to feelin' groovy. Of course, this could just be the other side of a mild case of manic depression, but I'm not going to question it for the moment.

The universe seems to agree with my mood, because I got an unsolicited email from a headhunter yesterday regarding a senior marcomm position that sounds right up my alley. I've got a phone interview with him later today, so keep your fingers crossed for me!

Now, it's time for the documentary cameras to follow me to the laundry room where I'll be sorting through my lights and darks. Better find my sunglasses first, or I may be blinded by the excitement of it all...

May 2nd

2006-03-03T15:14:00.000-05:00

That's the earliest appointment I could get with the fertility specialist my doctor has referred me to. Why would I possibly go ahead with fertility tests when my marriage is in such a precarious state? Hmmm... many sarcastic and flip answers come to mind, but in reality I think it comes down to this: I am 36 years old and have no time to waste, so even if (god forbid) things don't work with my husband, I would still like to find out what's going on with my body and take any small, non-invasive steps I can to get back on track. The fact of the matter is that that I've had only a handful of periods that weren't artificially induced since Lydia was born almost 21 months ago. And I'm also getting more frequent and more severe hot flashes (the kind that I used to attribute to the Clomid), which leads me to believe that either I'm peri-menopausal or at least I have some major hormone imbalance. Anyway, I've got two months to change my mind about this appointment. At least the consult itself is covered by national health insurance.

Otherwise, it's been a shitty week in Lake WoeismewhatahaveIdonetodeservethis. I've started getting some light counseling from an acquaintance of mine who has a side business in something called Imago therapy. I say "light", because I'm really doing it as a trial so that I can write some marketing material and do a website for her. She can't pay me much, so since I'm going through a bit of a rough time right now, I offered to take part of the payment in trade. Anyway, it's been a surprisingly enlightening exercise so far. I don't want to go into details about it right now (mostly because it would be deeply boring to anyone but me, I think), but I'm learning how to be more conscious of my emotions, needs, and desires, which I think will prove to be helpful as time goes on.

I've pretty much decided that I need to get a regular full-time job, at least for a while. I don't have the emotional countenance to market myself properly right now and I need a routine that gets me outside of the house on a daily basis. So, now it's onto Project Get A Job.

After a brief respite yesterday when the mercury creeped above the freezing level for a few hours, it's back to being cold, windy and miserable. Sometime I really think that my moods control the weather...

Feeling not so mah-valous

2006-02-26T15:59:00.000-05:00

Why has it been over 2 weeks since my last post? I've been wallowing, in a funk, overwhelmed by malaise and ennui. I keep starting posts in my head, but in the end I can't find anything interesting to say. I feel stalled and it's taking all of my energy just to get through the basic drudgeries of life. I've tried exercising (albeit somewhat half-heartedly), pouring myself into work (ditto), and on a couple of occasions bingeing on wine and chocolate. But besides hangovers and stomach aches, there hasn't been much of a result.

So, I don't know what else to say at the moment. I'm hoping this is a temporary state, because all of this moping and sighing is *very* tiring.

One small thing to be happy about today: I have found the almost perfect shade of hair color. I have been coloring my dark blonde hair since I was in high school (it was the one beauty treatment that my mother approved of, mostly because she started covering her grey when she was in her 30s, so it was a process she couldn't help but condone), but until recently I've always tended to go too light. I stopped coloring it when I was pregnant, and since it was a while before I was up to any kind of self-beautification, my hair finally grew all the way out and I got to see how dark my natural color really was. Since then, I've been trying different shades, trying to strike a balance between mousy and tarty and I think I've found it. Woo-bloody-hoo.

Well, I've got a busy evening ahead of me, lots of moaning, complaining and feeling sorry for myself to do. At least my hair will look fabulous while I do it...

P.S. Thanks to Anam and Msfitz for checking up on me! It's nice to know we're all looking out for each other here in blogland. It really means a lot to me, especially during these difficult times.

When a good day goes bad

2006-02-09T10:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday started out pretty well. I got the go-ahead for my next work project and then I had a surprisingly pleasant call to Lexmark customer support, ending with the agent offering to send me a replacement printer. But the day ended with a decided thud. I got an email from my husband's best friend (who lives in England) saying that he was recovering from a brain hemorrhage and a major stroke that occured during surgery to repair the hemorrhage (in his words, he had the same operation that Nate did in Six Feet Under). This was all quite a shock as we hadn't heard from him in months (my husband is very lax at keeping in touch, unfortunately) and had had no idea that he was ill. Miraculously, he seems to be recovering quite well, even though the doctors warned his girlfriend that there was a very good chance that he would die or suffer severe paralysis during or soon after the surgery.

On the one hand this news is a bit of a wake-up call, i.e. you better make the most of this life, because none of us knows how long he's got. On the other hand, it's a very worrying reminder about the fragility of life, one that I'm sure we all would like to skip.

I've got a headache and I feel emotionally worn out right now. K is withdrawing into his shell and won't talk to me about how he is feeling, even though it's obvious that he's suffering. I'm hoping this is a temporary state as a result of the news being so out-of-the-blue, but I worry that this is a symptom of the growing distance between us. We should be supporting each other through times like this, not suffering separately in silence.

Anyway, I'm going to go try some cleaning therapy. Maybe decluttering the house will help me to declutter my mind...

Lost in translation

2006-02-08T10:09:00.000-05:00

My dad has an oft-told story where he heard this joke at a party that amused him so much that when he got home in the wee hours of the night he proceeded to call his best friend, who was not terribly amused to be woken up in the middle of the night by my father in hysterics of laughter just to tell him this joke:

"What's purple and has bucket seats? A sports grape!"

Today, someone sent me this link and it had me in absolute fits, tears streaming down my face, and if it were the middle of the night I would have called my dad up to tell him about it. I highly recommend checking it out:

http://www.zenadsl5692.zen.co.uk/WeAreSinking.swf
(Sound required, but safe for work)

Hope you get even a tenth of the enjoyment out of it that I did!

My word cloud

2006-02-06T17:39:00.000-05:00

I saw this "word cloud" thing (it's basically a word snapshot of the front page of your blog) on Kath's "Inhospitable" blog and I just had to try it. I love how the word "horrible" is lodged nicely next to the word "husband"...

Whoever said life was fair?

2006-02-06T08:51:00.000-05:00

*Warning: rant alert!* I'm am issuing a warning about this post, because I know I am about to start a rant that will not reflect very well on my usually understanding, compassionate and loving nature(!). That being said, here goes...

My brother and his new wife (they were married last June) came up for a brief visit this weekend. We had a pleasant evening on Saturday, I cooked a reasonable paella and we sat around listening to 80s music while reminiscing about what a more or less horrible experience high school was. We all went to bed relatively early and the next morning we had an hour or so to sip coffee together before they had to push off (in order to get home for the Super Bowl). During the second cup of coffee they started looking at each other with big silly grins on their faces and after a few nudges from his wife, my brother announced that they had some "news"... You can guess the rest. After trying for a grueling 2 months, their attempts at procreation were successful and she is now 12 weeks along. Now, please keep in mind that I was the epitome of grace upon receiving the news -- kisses all around and only a mild misting of the eyes, which I smiled right through. We talked a bit about the aches and pains of the first trimester and I gave her a couple of my books on prenatal fitness and nutrition. I told them how thrilled I was for them and for their part they were very diplomatic about the whole thing. They left with all of us smiling and hugging. But as soon as I closed the door behind them, I sat down and had a big cry. I tried not to dwell on feeling sorry for myself, but I didn't do a very good job. I was and am truly happy for them, but I couldn't help but feel really gypped by life. I mean, here they are with their life ahead of them, full of dreams for the future and with the undyling love and support of each other to carry them through... and here I am, babyless, marriage hanging by a thread, not being able to think more than a day or two ahead, never mind having long-term hopes and plans. They had no real struggle to achieve what they had and my life for the past few years has been nothing *but* struggle... And that pretty much summed up my thoughts for the rest of the day.

I want so much to be full of undiluted happiness for them, but I am afraid that I won't be able to handle being around them anymore. I won't be able to sit there and listen to them go on about choosing a name and finding suitable day-care and decorating the nursery... meanwhile my child is dead and my life is falling apart.

Oh, this isn't getting me anywhere. I know I warned about the rant at the beginning of this post, but I can't even rant properly without feeling like a horrible shrew. I'm sure in time I'll get used to this situation and I'll find a way to deal with it. In the meanwhile, it's bootstrap time. I've got work to do today, proposals to write, project plans to create. And I will get to it all as soon as I can stop crying...