Briefly.

Croup = Terrible and scary and exhausting.

One night down. Hopefully not many more to go. :-(

EWCM = junk mail

I’m ovulating, or so my body would have me believe. I’m on day 2 of the most perfect EWCM a girl could hope for. I am surprised (and frankly, amused) to note how much its presence irritates me. I was unprepared for how my status as an IVF vet would make me resentful of my body’s fertility signs.

When we were TTC, I welcomed each month’s EWCM and the renewed hope it brought. This was going to be our month! Sure we’d had a dozen BFNs, but this time would be different! Look how normal and textbook and fertile I am! *sigh* I couldn’t fully appreciate how futile all those IUIs were at the time. Sure I had days of feeling like it would never work, especially after each BFN, but by the time the EWCM rolled around, I had licked my wounds and hopped back on the optimism wagon (read: crazy train). The point is, I loved seeing EWCM when we were TTC. In addition to the false (but cherished) hope it sparked, it meant that in the next couple of days, we’d actually get to DO something instead of waiting or waiting or waiting to wait.

And then I got pregnant, and the monthly EWCM went away.

Now it has returned, but I have no use for it. The longed-for baby is here, no thanks to my EWCM, and its visits do nothing but remind me of an unfulfilled promise. Now that I have no hope to mask my disillusionment, I view my EWCM as an unkind joke; as false advertising. My body is saying “Look how fertile I am! You could totally get pregnant right now!” And to that I say… bullshit. You couldn’t get me pregnant then and you can’t now. My body just doesn’t work like that, despite all the months and years I tried to prove that it did.

I find it funny that I’m more irked by the arrival of EWCM than AF. I suspect it’s because AF is what she is – no betrayals there. I didn’t enjoy her presence when I was TTC and I don’t enjoy it now. EWCM, on the other hand, is like a snake. It came month after month after month, seducing me with promises of a BFP and the subsequent baby bump. Its presence now reminds me of the years I spent asking my body for something it never delivered and aside from being bitter about that, I’m also embarrassed at having been the dummy that fell for it month after month after month.

I wish there was a “do not call” list for fertility signs. I’d sign my body up in a heartbeat, and I doubt I’m the only one. At the very least, I’d like to post a “no solicitation” sign. Maybe a tattoo? EWCM, you had your chance. You blew it. I’m sticking with science from here on out!

It's cross pollination day!

So before you read this post, take a look at the list of bloggers participating today. Then as you read, you can try to figure out who the guest blogger is!

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I was contemplating unfinished projects this week. I have an entire closet full of them. I have a sweater that I started knitting in 1999 or 2000. Still not finished (mostly because I think I don't have quite enough yarn). I have a baby blanket that just needs its border. I have a 2 foot high stack of recipes that I'm going to make someday. I have a box full of photos that need to go in an album - not a scrapbook, even, just an album. I can't complete shoving photos in slots.

Sometimes I don't finish projects because I lose interest. Sometimes I don't finish projects because I don't have the right materials. Sometimes I'm just lazy. I don't get terribly concerned about finishing projects, because I know life is a marathon and not a sprint. Either things will get finished or they won't.

I have one project that's been on my agenda for 5 years. I don't know if I'll be able to finish this project to my satisfaction. The project takes little of my time, but much of my attention. The project is building my family. I am the proud mom of a charming, funny, smart, obstinate, 3 year old cutie pie. She is my world. I am lucky to have her. But I can't put aside my desire for another child.

I feel like my family is not complete. My husband does not agree, although he has agreed to doing anything I want to do to make another baby. That's really quite amusing, because he has NO idea what additional intervention would entail. He likes to complain about my hormonal rages now. If I need a chuckle*, I just imagine his surprise at my mood swings if I were to start injecting myself with hormones. Since I am now 40, I know that my time is limited (although, according to the latest news reports, I have 10-15 more years!). I know that I am short on eggs. I know that I will not put my husband, myself, and, by extension, my daughter through the craziness that is IVF. In the next few months, I will have to reconcile myself to leaving this particular project unfinished. And since my husband is currently halfway around the world, I will have only one more chance to try before my 41st birthday. Unless this last chance worked.

Meanwhile, I guess I'll work on one of those other unfinished projects...anyone need a baby blanket? The baby for whom I was making it is now 2.


*If I ever need a chuckle in general, my husband is a good source. For instance, he recently told me that his few hours of non-sleeping on the hospital recliner were much more painful than my labor, because it's not like I pushed or anything, and I got an epidural. And the bed. Let's not forget that I got the bed. I was literally laid out on the floor for 20 minutes, laughing at the ridiculousness of those statements.
 

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Welllll? Who do you think it is? It may be a tough one if you're like me and tend to hang out in your (our) own part of the blogosphere, but if you think you know who it is, leave your guess in the comments section and we'll all oooh and aaah at how well-traveled you are! :-) Then, click here to head over to the guest poster's blog and read what I wrote for today. Be sure to poke around a bit while you're there. I had a lot of fun catching up on her adventures!

Argh!

I have a whole bunch of things I want to post about and no time to do it in. Here are a few off the top: We survived Elliot's first fever although I'm a little nervous he has an ear infection brewing. Our house is torn up because we decided to do some massive renovations two weeks before Christmas - sensible, no? We got a surprise $1800 bill from the RE this week and we're wondering if we'll EVER be able to stop giving them money. I also have a hysterical story I'd love to tell about how I was offered a "job" cleaning and decorating gravesites. I really will try to get to that last one.

In the meantime, here is something really exciting: Tomorrow is cross-pollination day! That means that another blogger will be guest posting here, and I'll be guest posting on her blog. I have her post all ready to go (because she is on the ball and sent it to me days ago, unlike me who slipped mine under her door like five minutes ago, you know, a mere hour and a half before it's due) and I think it will give you a chuckle, so be sure to check back  to read it.

Day #266

I've been sleeping off my NaBloPoMo hangover by taking a posting holiday, as you may have noticed. Actually, I've mostly just been sleeping, due to a nasty cold that had me laid up most of the week. I generously shared it with Elliot and his temperature has been fluctuating between 99 and 102 degrees for the last two days. Poor kid. I'm feeling really lucky that we made it this far (almost 9 months!) without an illness of note, but it's still hard to see him feeling lousy. I called him in sick for school today for the first time. That's right, I'm someone's mom. I can call someone in sick to school. Weird.

Anyway, on to what I came here to post about... It's time for another episode of Insignificant Milestones That People Outside of the IF Blogosphere Would (Righteously) Make Fun Of!

Today is Elliot's "Out Longer Than In" day. He has been in our world for 266 days, which is one more day than the 265 he spent in the womb. It's hard to believe he's been here for the length of a full-term pregnancy. It has gone so, sooo fast. Much faster than the 265 days, it seems. Last week, I realized we needed to start thinking about what we want to do for his first birthday. *gulp* Why don't we just hand over the car keys already?!

M was holding our sweet, sick boy tonight (stripped down to a diaper to allow his fever to vent) and he just looked so giant to me. He looks (and acts) more and more like a little boy every day. He is furniture walking with ease now and I'm sure he'll be doing the real thing before we know it. His personality seems to unfold by the minute, and as soon as we notice he's picked up a new skill, he's already working on the next one. I just can't believe how fast it's all happening.

He loves the Christmas tree. I can't wait to see what he thinks of the rest of the fanfare.

The Big Chocolate Santa

A few days ago, my BFF In Loco Parentis compared reading my NaBloPoMo posts to opening an advent calendar. I was flattered by the analogy and to thank her, I would like to present her with the prize behind box 24 (or 30, in this case): A post about her and how much I value our friendship.

I'm shamelessly stealing from her playbook on this one. She posted this during my IVF cycle and it was a bright spot during a really stressful time. I revisited the post today and read it again. Glad I did, too. I forgot which stories she shared and it turns out they were pretty much all the same ones I had planned to post, but enhanced by her superior wit and charm. Foiled!

Fortunately, I'm certain I can scrounge up a few more...

For example, did you know that she is a hairless cat owner? Have you ever seen a hairless cat? They are truly unfortunate looking amazing creatures. One might say (and has said, frequently, in fact) that they look like a dinosaur/chicken fetus. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's her current cat's actual name: Dinosaur Chicken Fetus. ILP has to have hairless pets because she nearly died one time of a hamster-induced breathing incident. She would have been in big trouble if she hadn't driven herself to the emergency room and walked herself through the doors before falling unconscious. She is a serious bad ass.

When M and I got married, ILP was one of my bridesmaids. She came up with a hysterical alter ego for the occasion, complete with a special name that hinged upon her achieving a perfectly bronzed exterior prior to the big day. I shared this with KD during the week leading up to the wedding, so when she arrived, the introductions went something like this:
ILP: Hi, I'm ILP (real name, not alter ego name). It's nice to meet you.
KD: You're not very tan.
*palm to forehead* Fortunately, I didn't need to scold him. He beat himself up enough for the both of us, and still does. He's brought it up no less than a dozen times in the years since. Every time ILP comes up in conversation, he asks for confirmation that she's the same ILP he made an ass of himself in front of at the wedding. Yup, that'd be her.

It was awesome having ILP in our wedding. She was really understanding and non-judgmental when I went all bridezilla on my friends and family, or at least she put on a convincing front. She restrained herself from putting the smack down on the bridesmaid newsletters I allowed The N.est to convince me were Absolutely Essential. She sucked it up during a marathon group mani-pedi session and played Apples to App.les for hours on the salon floor. She marched down a dusty mountain in heels because I had A Vision. And to secure her position as MVP, she hung around after the Sunday brunch to fill me in on alllll the juicy gossip she extracted from our wedding guests while I was busy being a princess. What more could a girl ask for, really?

ILP and I share custody of a magic hat. We pass it back and forth depending on who needs its powers most at the time. It may be hard for me to explain the origins of the magic hat, but I feel compelled to try. The hat came from Blockb.uster Video during the original wave of Harry Po.tter madness. ILP and I had been wandering aimlessly through the aisles and I turned around to see her holding an inverted sorcerer's hat in both hands, staring raptly into its depths. When she felt my eyes on her, she looked up and said, in the most incredulous tone imaginable, "This is a magic hat!" I found her child-like awe so irresistible, I demanded the hat go home with us. It turns out that she didn't think the hat was endowed with any magical powers - she was actually referring to the fact that there was an adjustable band inside the hat that allowed it to snugly fit a wide range of head sizes. As I recall, there was some pants-wetting-caliber laughter once we shared our respective understandings of how the hat was magical. She has it now. I may ask for it back if (when) M and I go crazy and decide to ttc #2, lord help us.

We've been through a lot together in our 10+ years of friendship. I think it sucks ass that infertility is on that list. I would have liked to have spared us both the pain it caused. That said, words fail me in describing how therapeutic it has been to have her companionship during our shared journey. A "beginner's luck" baby could have easily been the thing that divided us, but instead, we have both been allll the way around the block and we can swap 2ww and PIO horror stories to no end. We've talked about how much closer we've become as a result of our infertility experiences, and I count that as one of the gifts I'm taking away from the madness. I can't wait to see what the future brings, both for us and our oh-so-wanted little boys. I hope they grow up together, experiencing the same fondness and respect for one another as I have for ILP. Oh, and I hope they share a little magic, too.

show and tell

Shortly after E was born, M gave me this necklace:

I'm not a big jewelry person and it's not uncommon for me to go a month or two without even remembering that I own any. When I first received this necklace, I wore it every single day. After a while, I started skipping a day here and there, and then I left it off for several days in a row, and then several weeks. It caught my eye yesterday and I put it on again. I was instantly reminded of how much I love it and how special wearing it makes me feel. There were days I didn't know if or when I'd ever get to be someone's mama, but here I am and I couldn't be more grateful.

quick update (via phone)

M and I are celebrating my birthday early this year, on accounta having good babysitters (read: adoring grandparents) in town on a limited engagement. She surprised me with outrageously swanky arrangements and I'm feeling completely spoiled. And on that note, I'm off to soak up some more pampering!

Black Friday

I'm coming out as a Black Friday shopper, BUT I solemnly swear I will NEVER be trampled in a toy-inspired stampede. I don't care about it that much. I really just take it as a big scavenger hunt where the clues are hidden in the ads and I get to make my list and plot my course and partake in some excellent people watching, and hey, maybe even score some great deals on Christmas gifts. And if not, no worries. I didn't even go out until 8:30am this year and if you know anything about Black Friday shopping, you know that is waaaay too late to count as a respectable showing.

Best people-watching incident of the day: The woman in Jan.ie and Jack who demanded to pay full price for an item that was 25% off (the whole store was 25% off before noon) because she "doesn't feel comfortable buying gifts on sale." The poor salesperson said she'd have to check if that was even possible since their computers were automatically set to provide the discount. A few minutes later, they told her they couldn't override the computers to sell something for a higher price so she'd have to come back tomorrow. She left without purchasing anything.

The score sheet for the day: Heaps and heaps of clothes for Elliot, a few things for M and I, and one stocking stuffer for my mom. Oops. Now that E is here, it seems I have lost my interest in shopping for anyone other than him! Oh well, everyone needs a hobby, right? Elliot's reign as the best-dressed member of our family has been preserved for at least a couple more months, and for roughly 50 cents on the dollar. :-)

Thanksgiving IV

This is my fourth Thanksgiving since we started trying to get pregnant and my first with a baby.

In late November of 2006, I was wrapping up my second cycle ttc. I wrote this light-hearted little post analyzing every teeny-tiny detail from our timing to my stress level, as if a change in any of those variables could have made a shred of difference for us. I had no idea how long a journey I was beginning or how broken I really was.

On Thanksgiving of 2007, I suffered a crushing BFN. I chose not to blog about the details at the time, but I referred back to it in my post about Thanksgiving 2008.

This year, we finally have our baby in our arms, and words can not express how thankful we are that he is here at last. For those of you still holding your baby in your hearts, I hope this is the last year you spend longing for one another.