Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Busy bee

Busy may as well be my middle name. I’m sorry to have been neglecting all my friends here in bloggie world, but my real life has been holding me hostage. I will probably also be very scarce for the next month since it is chock full of plans. My aunt is visiting us this week and this weekend we are all heading to Chicago for a family reunion. I’m really looking forward to this, aside from one simple fact (and I would love to get everyone’s opinion on this) – the reunion is for my mom’s side of the family but my dad will be bringing his girlfriend to the party. This strikes me as very odd since this woman is obviously not a relation and I feel like her presence is a snub towards my mom. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being overly sensitive, but it weirds me out.

After our Chicago excursion we will have less than a week to prepare for our two week vacation extravaganza - J and I are taking the Amtrak out to Oregon to visit some friends. On the way we will make a four day stop at Glacier National Park. We’ve never traveled by Amtrak before but it sounds like an adventuresome way to experience the landscape of the western U.S. I’ve flown out to Oregon twice and each time I felt very wistful as I looked out the window at the vast mountain ranges below. Now we will view them up close and personal, and we won’t be driving so we’ll really be able to savor the view.

Next week is also our seven year wedding anniversary. Hard to believe that that many years have already gone by. We’re obviously not where I thought we would be family-building wise but we’re still in love and our relationship is strong. In that regard I am a very lucky woman. 

So the moral of the story is – I’m sorry that I’ve been, and will continue to be, absent. I am reading your posts when I can but I don’t always have a chance to comment. I miss interacting with you and hope that everyone is doing well!

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

A shiny distraction

In my last post I mentioned the longing I felt when two adorable children visited my office. It's true, I was smitten and filled with such a wistful sense of hope. Soon after posting to my blog I took a bathroom break where I was promptly met with the onslaught of my period - two days early!

What?! Why, oh why did the universe send such lovely children to visit me, thus inflaming my maternal instincts, only to instantly dash all of my hopes? I was momentarily crushed.

Momentarily, I say, because a shiny new toy was waiting for me at home. That afternoon J had gone to pick up our new car. I was beyond excited to get home and see it. That excitement has carried me through the last few days. Am I sad that I got my period? Of course. But the delicious distraction of driving a brand new car is enough to buoy my spirits. I've been driving the same car since 1999 so owning a 2013 model thoroughly blows my mind. Power windows and locks, a CD player, more cargo room... yes, mind officially blown. (I know, I am easily pleased). 

But the universe wasn't done with me yet. (Apparently it craves my tears and isn't satisfied until I have my monthly infertility meltdown.) Over the weekend a coworker's baby was born. Facebook exploded with pictures and baby talk abounded at the office yesterday. Fine, I could handle it. I had my own four-wheeled bundle of joy to discuss. Today another coworker became a grandfather for the first time, which meant more baby talk ensued. I could feel my happy new-car-plated armor beginning to crack. 

So I took my lunch break and drove the new car around town. Ah, happiness restored.

Our new baby
Rugged-looking road not included. I guess we'll have to find our own. :)

Friday, July 13, 2012


I was doing really well with this two week wait. I've been so busy lately that I've barely had time to obsess over it. However, after a chance encounter with a cute little curly-headed boy I'm back to obsessing about having one of my own. 

There is a street festival going on outside my office door today. I thought it would be fun to do a little game to get people inside the door to our business. I filled the front window with tons of beach balls and plastered signs asking people to come in and guess how many there are. Just a moment ago a little blond-haired, curly-headed ball of energy came bounding in proclaiming that there are 41 beach balls in the window. He looked to be about five years old but had the confidence of a mature adult. I helped him fill his form out so he could enter the prize drawing and he clearly stated all of the pertinent facts (his name is Finn, such a cute name!). He smelled of sunshine, candy and graham crackers and I just wanted to scoop him up and give him a great big hug. 


Now, to continue my waiting, which is not so patient anymore. 

* * * * * * * * 

Argh, and now a sweet little girl named Sophia just stopped in. I just may have to leave work early today to save myself from more torture!!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Keeping it real

There were two new members at my book club meeting last night. And by new I mean brand spanking new human beings, freshly freed from their mother's wombs. I politely congratulated one of the new moms and for a moment I saw a hint of hesitation on her face before she said thank you. Oh, infertility, why do you have to make normal human interactions so awkward? 

Perhaps it's better to keep my infertile status under wraps so I can avoid other awkward situations. But no, I want to talk about it. I want other people to know how much it pains me and what a struggle it is. I want to educate them so that perhaps they will better know how to deal with the next infertile couple they meet. I want the stigma surrounding infertility to stop and I can't stop it by staying silent. 

So, I'm sorry if I made you feel awkward, new book club mommy, but if I have to live with infertility every day I think you can deal with one awkward social exchange.

Monday, July 9, 2012

The end of an era

I just had a very exhausting weekend and I'm struggling to put everything into words. Due to my family's herculean effort my parent's house is now empty. It's very surreal to walk through my childhood home and not see all the familiar furnishings and wall hangings in their proper place. 

I slept very poorly last night since the image of those empty rooms haunted me. I lay awake and tried to sear all the little quirks of the house into my brain - the sound the back door makes as it creaks open, how the front hall closet is very conducive to a good game of hide and seek, the spot at the top of the stairs where I would sit and catch a glimpse of the TV when I was supposed to be in bed, the fireplace made of field rock that my parents collected, the elaborate light switch panels wired by my dad, and how I first told J that I loved him when we were hanging out in my bedroom.

I'm having a hard time letting go, even though I didn't think I would. (Perhaps it's related to the fact that I'm in my two week wait and am thus already overly emotional). I talked to my sister last night and she pinpointed one of the reasons that I'm struggling - my kids will never be familiar with the house. My nieces and nephews have many happy memories of the house but my kids will never get to experience the same. They will never poke through my old ballet costumes, run in the yard that I enjoyed as a child, sit at my mom's kitchen table and decorate Christmas cookies, play hide and seek in the front hall closet or sit on the porch swing. I know they'll have many happy memories of their own but I'm sad that they'll never experience firsthand the tranquility and warmth of my mother's home. It's yet another loss that moves me further from my mom's presence and reminds me of my infertile state.

Speaking of infertility, yesterday my dad beckoned me to his room and thrust an old letter into my hands. It was a letter from a doctor's office informing my mom that she was a perfect candidate for Clomid. My dad seemed so pleased with himself that he had found the magic solution to my infertility. After all, if it worked for my mom it should work for me, right? Wrong. I know Clomid is not my miracle drug because I have been on it numerous times in the past, but his optimism was very touching so I thanked him for the information and tucked the letter away for safe keeping. At least I now have a link to my mom's infertile past.

I must have some of my dad's pat rack tendencies within me because I came home with far too many boxes of keepsakes. I'll have to sift through them again with a clear head to see if I really need all of them. For example, I don't think it's imperative that I save every scrap of my school artwork but I do want to keep my grandmother's china. 

One thing's for certain, after sorting through 40 years worth of clutter I have an insatiable desire to purge my entire house of all unnecessary items. I love my parent's house, I really do, but one of the main reasons that I don't want to buy it is because it's too big. I just spent the last few weeks clearing out 40 years worth of clutter from the home's numerous nooks and crannies and I never want to go through that again. If the space is there I know it will eventually be filled with a plethora of items that J and I don't really need. Our more modest sized house is much more manageable.

One thing I don't mind keeping is all the wonderful memories associated with my parent's house. 

  • Holiday feasts
  • Birthday party sleepovers on the back porch
  • Watching a pair of robins build a nest outside the kitchen window 
  • Learning to ride my bike on the driveway
  • Coming home to delicious-smelling meals 
  • Making snow angels in the backyard
  • Trying out new dance steps in the living room
  • How the lilacs only grew on the very top of the bush because the sun did not hit the entire plant
  • Assisting my mom with holiday decorating
  • The blinking glow of Christmas lights outside my bedroom window
  • Graduation parties, bridal and baby showers (My parents hosted so many parties!)
  • Movie nights with family and friends
  • Watching my nieces and nephews grow in leaps and bounds
  • Assembling my wedding invitations on the dining room table

As I recall all of this I realize how lucky I am to have had such a charmed upbringing and I wait with hopeful anticipation for the day that I can provide the same to my own children. I also am reminded that the house itself did not provide these memories - the people who lived there did.