BABIES R-NOT US

Yeah, so the next time I get the urge to go into a baby store, somebody shoot me, okay?

I had to meet up with my sister to deliver a pair of Red Sox tickets to her, and she mentioned that she and her husband were going to Babies R Us, did I want to meet them there? I hesitated for a moment only because I thought that might be dangerous territory for my fragile emotions, but I had also just mentioned to her that I had to run to JoAnne Fabrics to get bag-making supplies right near there anyways, and I didn't want to offend her by saying no to the baby store. Not that she wouldn't totally understand, but I didn't have the heart to say no. Besides, I could be strong, right? And hey, maybe it would even be fun?

See, the thing is, as badly as I want a child, I have about .001% knowledge of anything related to babies. The last baby that was in my life was my sister Cheryl. I was eight years old. I don't have any nieces or nephews on my side of the family OR on Anthony's side. In fact, Anthony is the only married grandchild on his side of the family, so ALL the pressure is on us to have children. But I digress. Anyways, the point is, as sad as I am for me, I am super-excited for Eileen to have a baby, because it will be the first baby in my life in twenty-five years. Yeah. I don't know what diaper-genies are, or boppy pillows, and all that other crap, but I can watch Eileen and learn what I need to know from her.

Or not. See, here is where it gets tricky. I was walking around the store with the two of them, watching them pick out their favorite car seat, their favorite nursing glider, their favorite bouncy chair, etc. Every once in a while I would find something that I fell in love with and Eileen would oh-so-optimistically say "You can get that for YOUR baby." And every time, I would stop and correct her and say "IF I ever HAVE a baby. I may NEVER need any of this stuff." I must have said that to her five times.

Suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks. It occurred to me that this was their first trip to a baby store together. I was a third wheel (even though I was invited). I was unintentionally bringing the mood down and raining on their parade. They are happy, and excited, and overwhelmed, and PREGNANT. Why should I be there with my negative attitude? If you can't take the "cute", get out of "Babies-R-Us."

"Here you go," I said and handed them the envelope with the Sox tickets. "I really should get going, Anthony and I have a bunch of stuff to do this afternoon." (This was only half true, we had one store to go to.)

I left and was hoping that they didn't notice my undertone of sadness too much. All in all, I didn't do too badly, I was oohing and aahing over a lot of the stuff, and most of it was genuine. Maybe because it is stuff for my Godchild. It's not the same thing at all as having one of my own, but it sure is the next best thing, for this to be happening to my sister. And I have promised her that even though I talk a lot about her baby, that I won't stalk it. I won't pull a Bianca Montgomery and get confused, think the baby is mine, and kidnap it. (Sorry - "All My Children" reference for most of you who lucky for you don't know what I am talking about.)

The other thing that is going to be tough is I want so badly to knit a baby blanket for her, as a shower gift. But this too, may be a little more than my emotions can handle. I need to comtemplate this further, because I just don't know how much baby-stuff my empty womb can handle. I want to be a good sister, but I also need to watch out for myself. In time, the answer will come to me.

SHAMELESS MARKETING PLOY - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Okay, so I have alluded to upcoming craft fairs and sewing projects I am working on in a few of my recent posts. The truth is, for a few years now it has been my dream to design and sell handbags. I have been sewing since I was five years old so, and if I must say so myself, I am pretty good at it. And if fucking Monica Lewinsky can design handbags, then so can I!

The short term goal would be for extra cash, and the long term goal would be to do this full-time. In fact, Anthony and I have discussed the possibility of me trying to do this on a full-time basis if it becomes evident that a baby is not going to make its way into our lives. The reasoning being, if we can NOT have a baby, which we want more than anything, then at the very least I am going to attempt to make a living doing something close to my heart. If we DO have a baby, this would be a great way to supplement Anthony's income. Either way, its a goal.

I have fallen so far behind my own self-imposed schedule. I am paranoid that I am going to find myself one week before the big craft fair with nothing made, and then I will be in quite a pickle. My website is coming along except that, where there need to be pictures of the different styles of bags, there are none, because I haven't actually MADE the bags yet!!! I am trying to buckle down and get going.

So I had a thought....I recently mentioned that I may be making an offer to some my friends out there in blog world, and I am going to elaborate a bit. Through writing this blog, I have been afforded the opportunity to meet some great people who are going through a lot of the same experiences as me. There is little that any of us can do to "help" one another beyond our words. I read some of your own blogs and the comments you make on my site, and I am truly touched. It makes me want to DO something. So here is what I am thinking...when my site is up and running, I may offer some of you a free bag, IF it is even something you are interested in. At first I was going to design one and call it the "Infertility Bag" and send it out to everyone as our own inside-joke kind of thing, so that if you ever happened upon anyone else in the world carrying the same bag, you would look at each other and know "ah....they are struggling with infertility too - I know how she feels." I still may, but I can't decide on a style or color scheme that would represent infertility. Black? Red? Something that is the opposite of pink-and-blue? Need to think about that more.

Anywho, not everyone is even into bags, but if for some reason you are, let me know, and I will try to include you when I am ready to offer out a few freebies. I may have to limit it, to like five people give-or-take, but again it remains to be seen as I haven't figured out the details yet. I am hoping to be ready to go in a week or so.

OH! The catch....of course there is a catch, you think anything in life is free? My only request would be if you take one of my bags and anyone ever says to you "Hey, I like your bag," that you would be kind enough to give out my website. I look at this as an opportunity to give SOMETHING to the friends I have made through blogging, and also as an opportunity to get some of my bags out there to a few people across the country. I think it's a good marketing trick but who knows.

That's all for now, I've got some sewing to do.

LAST SUPPERS AND BIG BROTHERS

So, it’s official – we’ve decided to take a month off. Take a break, if you will. The past month has been, well, rough, and for sanity’s sake we thought we should just chill. Not to say that we aren’t going to continue to try on our own, but this equals a break to us because we have absolutely zero faith in our ability to conceive a child on our own, without medical intervention. Fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twenty-five months in a row, shame on me.

Therefore I am hoping to slowly start jumping back into some things I have been putting off, some things I have been missing, some things I have been wanting to do for a while. Like running. I am actually planning on going for a run after work today. Boy is that funny! I doubt I will make it to the end of my driveway without collapsing, but nevertheless I am going to give it a shot. I also officially reverted back to Phase 1 of the South Beach Diet as of this morning. I have been majorly slacking off lately, eating whatever the hell I wanted to ease the pain of last month’s unsuccessful IUI. But as of this morning I am going to get back on track.

Last night I had my “last supper” – my last big “what the fuck” as far as the diet goes. It consisted of Bertucci’s pizza with big globs of mozzarella cheese and chicken (big no-no) and a large dish of Kalua Chip Ice Cream with chocolate jimmies (even bigger no-no). I enjoyed every bite of it, even though two hours later I had a stomachache like you wouldn’t believe. Still, it was enjoyable. I wish I didn’t take so much pleasure from food. My life would be a lot less complicated if I did not.

While we’re on the topic of “last suppers,” I read Dan Brown’s “The DaVinci Code” this weekend. Fascinating read. I always love a good conspiracy theory, especially one that is able to back up its claims with hard evidence. I can’t tell you how many times I would read a passage, say out loud to no one in particular “no WAY!” and run to my computer to find images of the famous paintings he mentions – “The Mona Lisa”, “Madonna of the Rocks,” and most fascinating of all “The Last Supper.” There, displayed on my monitor, were the hidden codes being described in the book that I had just never seen or realized before. I absolutely love shit like that! I won’t give anything away in case anyone reading my blog has not read the book, and wants to. I highly, highly recommend it. I could not put it down, even when it was well after midnight and my eyelids were fighting hard to keep awake.

So, what else? Not much to report really. I have recovered for the most part, physically and emotionally, from the weekend. I am looking forward to a month with perhaps a little less worry and a little more joy.

Speaking of joy, um, yeah, I am a TOTAL, total loser. Two of my favorite reality shows start tonight – “Big Brother 5” and “The Amazing Race 5.” These two shows are my guilty pleasures to say the least, but they are opposite ends of the spectrum as far as class is concerned. “The Amazing Race” allows the teams, as well as us, the viewing audience, to experience adventures that bring us to the far corners of the globe. The places they travel to, the sights they see, it is enthralling. “Big Brother,” on the other hand, is merely a voyeur’s dream come true. Watching a bunch of strangers living together in a house, totally cut off from the outside world, bickering over stupid, petty crap. It is wonderful in its own crude way.

However, I am a little distraught, because I just discovered that the “character” from the last season of “Big Brother” that I absolutely despised is on this season’s “Amazing Race.” Ick. I could get into the dynamics of why I hate her and why this flake has decided that embarrassing herself once on national television wasn’t enough, so she’s just got to do it again – but I won’t, because I have displayed my loser-dom enough at this point.

Hey, what can I say. This month is supposed to be a “break” from the stress. More joy, right? If I can derive a couple of hours of joy from bad television, well hey that sounds just like what the doctor ordered.

HOME SWEET HOME

I took this photo this morning in the dismal rain. We drove down to the new house to check on the progress and remind us of the good we have in our life right now. It sure is coming along nicely, I must say! In less than five months we'll be moving in!


our new house is underway 

UN-BORN ON THE FORTH OF JULY

So, I had my first miscarriage today. It was a mild one, to say the least - after all, I was technically only pregnant for three weeks, and the third week didn't count because that was the point where it was determined not to be viable. Also, I knew it was coming, I just didn't know when. I figured somehow that these factors would make it a little easier to deal with.

Anthony and I headed to my parent's summer house in New Hampshire yesterday morning, hoping to enjoy much of the long holiday weekend swimming and drinking and relaxing. I guess I wasn't really thinking clearly, because even though I was a week late, (longer than I have ever been late), for some reason it didn't occur to me to bring along the proper feminine products one might need when they should be expecting their body to expel a pregnancy that didn't quite take.

We were at the cottage for two hours when it started.

I felt like someone kicked me in the gut. The pain literally bent my body in half from a standing position, and couldn't right myself. I staggered indoors, used the bathroom and concluded that yes indeed, my next cycle was beginning, and from there moved to the living room couch. I didn't move, except for frequent trips to the bathroom, until this morning. It felt like there was someone with a machete tearing me apart from the inside, trying to work their way out. I wanted more than anything to be home, in my own bed, near my own bathroom, rather than bringing the party down for five other people. But the truth was, I told Anthony there was no way I could last for the two hour car ride home.

This morning, I managed to swallow two extra-strength tylenol and once they started to kick in, we packed the car and departed early from our long weekend plans. I felt bad, but not as bad as my family felt for me.

Once we were home for a couple of hours I actually started to feel better - the ridiculous cramps had seemed to just stop, out of nowhere. I decided that this may be the time to try to take a shower. And then it happened.

I don't want to get too vivid here with the description, but all I can say is I heard a noise, the sound of something "thumping" the floor of the tub, and what I saw was just disturbing. It wasn't familiar, it wasn't expected, it was something so different than anything I had dealt with before. And all at once it all came back to me again, the emotional roller coaster that I am trying to get off of, for at least one month, it decided I needed one more spin, one more go around. I just started wailing. I rinsed my hair as fast as I could and turned the water off. I scooped up the mess as fast as I could because I could hear Anthony coming, he clearly could hear me sobbing. I flushed everything down the toilet, wiped the tub down, and wrapped a towel around me just as he burst in.

I keep reminding myself that it could have been so much worse. So many women I know have experienced this in far worse circumstances than me. I could have been further along - I could have lost an actual viable pregnancy that I had come to know and feel hopeful about. I could have not been expecting it at all. I mean, I had the blessing of knowing this was going to happen, and just waiting for my body to decide the time was right. I was lucky that I had left the cottage, because I just don't think I could have dealt with this with my parents, sister and her boyfriend all there too, feeling unbelievably awkward. I am lucky, as this could have happened to me on a work day.

Instead I was home with Anthony, alone together, in the peace and quiet of our house, with nothing to do for the rest of the day except lie in his arms and have him kiss my forehead and comfort me.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am fortunate. It could have been much, much worse.

But still, it hurts. Aside from the physical pain, there is just something freakishly morbid about cleaning up one's bathtub of the remnants of what "could have been." That kind of reality just stabbed me right in the heart right to the core. That is what brought all the emotional pain flooding back in an instant.

But my dear husband is a wise man, and maybe he is right about two things. Number one, he reminded me that this is actually a milestone. This is the closest we've ever come to anything closely resembling a pregnancy. "Maybe your body will know what it is supposed to do next time?" he guessed.

Secondly, and most importantly, he said "And now we are so much closer to this month being BEHIND us."

Thank God he is right about that.