Goals.


There are some things I really need to get going on. 

1. I want to change the layout of the blog.  However, being that I am blognorant, I don’t know when and if I can get it done.  But I am feeling the pull of a newer look (after all, been at this bad boy for just over a year now….)

2. I want to post more (because you know, when I get all famous because my blog is the bestest blog in the history of all blogs and people are racing to read my blog-turned-book-bestseller, who wants it to drop off with the pregnancy?)  Ha. hahaha.

3. I want to start getting things “ready.”  After all…I’m only three weeks from being 30 weeks, which in my mind is like “yep, you’re getting there.”  So I want to start readying my life for the coming of a new little guy.  P is NOT ready–he told us yesterday that he wanted Baby Pablo to stay in my tummy ever ever.  He did not care when I told him that neither mommy nor baby pablo think this is a good idea.  So he needs to get ready emotionally, just as I need to get the house and all other baby things in order.

4. I want to start cooking again.  Real cooking, not the kind where grilling precooked sausage on the grill counts as cooking.  I mean, soups, casseroles, other tasty treats.  That has gone by the wayside this summer.

5. Um, those other four are a lot for right now.  There are, of course, about six thousand things that fit under #4, but no need to stress out naming them all right now.  I just want to really be embracing this thing that is causing nighttime pee-trips, backaches and stretch marks (only on my right ass cheek.  Nothing anywhere else.  Yet.)  I want to live in the moment–for who knows what the future brings?

This is all for now.  Short but sweet post.  Happy anniversary to me and T (six years), and happy anniversary, i-v-effed.  Will be back soon……..



Already August…summer is fading…


and for the first time, I’m not feeling the funk of “shit, here comes winter, here I am, still trying to get pregnant, my favorite times of year have passed and now I have to be in winter, feeling just as crappy inside as the weather is outside.“   I definitely think I am a seasonal-affective-disorder person, and would probably benefit from one of those fake-sun-lamps in my living room.  Just to bask under in a swimsuit with a book come mid-January…

      but anyway.  24 weeks along yesterday–and had a little scare.  I was having braxton-hicks all morning, and they weren’t stopping.  We’re talking over a dozen in the span of two hours, and I started to freak out a little.  So I tried to go about my morning like all was fine (well, I watched PBS sprout with P and T in bed, drank gallons of water, and just relaxed as long as possible)…but then decided that I was being incredibly stupid if I didn’t take advantage of the fact that it was a Sunday, there was no need to drag P along with me anywhere…and only a doctor could really make me feel okay about everything.  Thus, I found myself reclining in a comfy hospital bed in Labor and Delivery (helllooo, reallynicehospitalIamgoingtobedeliveringat!) for four hours, being monitored, internally examined, cultured, etc.  The monitors were definitely noting the contracting, but after a good while they subsided, picked up again an hour or so later, and then subsided again.  The exam noted a closed cervix, and all cultures came back negative.  My prescription?  Pelvic rest, lots of water, and rest.  As soon as I heard the cervix was closed I about jumped for joy.  Diagnosis?  Nada.   But haven’t had more than one or two since I came back home yesterday around 3.

         24 weeks was a little early to be thinking of bringing home Baby Pablo (or Baby Tyrone, depending on which Bac.kyardi.gan P feels like naming him after on any given day).  I am glad he is staying put.

I also think I’m going to try to be a More Active Blogger.  So what if my situation has changed?  I am still an IVF vet.  It still plays into my life–and though I do not need it as the crutch I needed to get through a very dark time, I could certainly benefit from some more reflection in my life right now.  I had a few moments this weekend to go for a solo walk, and I found myself thinking about how incredibly different my mindset is now than it was a year ago.  It is amazing how I can feel such peace and happiness and wholeness by having this little guy growing inside of me–compared to when I didn’t, when I never thought I would know that feeling again, when I thought I had done something that the universe was punishing me for…it is like every cliche in the book.  The darkness lifted.  The sadness became a memory, a part of me that will always be, but doesn’t define me anymore (I always felt like people could LOOK at me and detect the sadness and pain).  As someone who has also lived with an eating disorder, I often felt like THAT too defined me.  And after some time, I learned for myself that I wasn’t defined by that, it was just a really hard thing that was part of me, but wasn’t ALL of me.  I think I can now see infertility as the same thing.  When we are in the worst worst worst part of it, it is all that we are, it consumes us (similar to the e.d.).  But once we have emerged from the darkest part–it is still always there, it still comes into our life in some way every day…but it isn’t our only “thing.”  This all may sound like a pretty banal revelation–but to me…it was a hell of a big one.