Five minutes have past, please bring on the next emotion

So yesterday I was very rational about wanting to find a job and holding off on the one-way trip to babyville until things were a bit more settled. Today my cousin in Germany emailed me that she's pregnant and I feel the urge to jump off a bridge.

Will someone please stop the rollercoaster?! I want to get off. This ride actually sucks, and it ought to be removed from the park entirely.


Trick or treat, I want to eat you!

On Saturday evening we have a behavioral specialist coming to the house to help us with Hero. Why, you ask? Because (whisper) we're afraid of our fuzzy white cute-as-a-button cockapoo. Yes, you heard right. No, I won't repeat it. It's horribly embarrassing but true. He's terrifying. He's all bitey and snarly and we're so freakin' nice to him that I can't understand why he's so heinously pissy!

Yesterday I took him to a wonderful new vet for his allergies and he's been prescribed antihistamines. I hope they work. Anyway, she suggested this animal behaviorist to us. I wasn't sure we needed that kind of intervention, until last night. When he almost ate me as I tried to extract a pair of scissors from his mouth. I didn't get hurt because I was fully tricked out in Hubs' giant leather mittens, my thickest winter coat, and a mouth guard. Okay, not really a mouth guard. But my heart was pounding. He gets so mean. And he can't have the scissors, for his own good! And for the good of our bank account, which he's quickly draining.

We're so ready for Saturday. Halloween's gonna be a bitch cause he *hates* the doorbell.


Finally picking up the phone

Today I made plans with a new friend C to hang out on Friday. The catch is that hanging out means spending the morning with her two little boys. CB is three and Q is about 6 months. CB likes me a lot and is the sweetest little boy you could imagine. A few weeks back I was totally looking forward to hanging out with them all. Then we miscarried and I couldn't bring myself to call her. It was just too much to imagine spending a 'kid day' at their house. Really, it was too much to imagine spending any kind of day with anyone for a while.

Since my trip to Austin I've been feeling a lot better. Before I'd left I started to get excited about the prospect of trying to get pregnant again. A friend of mine who'd been through something similar had told me that would happen, but I couldn't quite believe her that it would. Well, it did. It started to seem like a fun adventure and Hubs and I began planning for the future instead of standing rooted in the recent past.

Of course, at the same time I felt like I didn't want to be pregnant again, but thankfully that doesn't seem to be an issue right now. I can't explain that feeling, but I think it has to do with the planning. We're not ready. I don't have a job yet, and that's a big unknown in my life right now, and in our finances as well. When we didn't think we'd get pregnant, and we did, it was a surprise and that made the thought of scurrying to get everything into place seem exciting. But now I want everything to be in place when we get pregnant, and it's not yet.

Really it's just the job. We have the house, the yard, the daycare plan (or at least part of it), the suppliers (my sis is bringing hand-me-down maternity clothes and everything baby at Thanksgiving). We know we can take care of Hero and not accidentally kill him, so that's a start. We feel ready for the responsibility. I'm no longer skipping meals, my most strenuous work out is walking Hero, and I eat super healthfully and take my prenatals. So my body is ready.

But I want and need to find a job (preferably part time) and I need to get that part of my life in order. I've been working on a novel so I'm hoping a writing career could eventually work down the line, but I don't want to depend on that since it's such a big IF. I love to write and dream of chick lit story lines in my sleep, but let's be real: it's not an easy or steady career path. I hate that this job market sucks, and I hate that I was once successful in my own right and now I'm stuck. I miss my old job, and I feel so bitter that everything I worked so hard for has come to a grinding halt.

And, I hate that I can't spend any money. I miss THINGS. I like THINGS. Handbags and makeup and clothes. I need an income!!!

So clearly I have to straighten this out.

All this from scheduling a breakfast.


Lazy Sunday weekend recap

On Friday night we hung out with our newlywed pals A and J and carved pumpkins. Mine is the one with the starry eyes, Hubs' is the super happy looking one :) It was really fun - we always have a great time hanging out with them.

On Saturday evening we had Hubs' now ex-sister-in-law over for dinner. Hero was happy to see her (he used to be hers!). But, in a bittersweet kind of way, he also seemed very aware that his home is with us now.

And today was freezing cold, with crazy wind and some snow flurries. We spent most of the day relaxing at home by the fire, just me and my two guys.

And tonight I made Steph's Million $ Spaghetti Casserole recipe for dinner. It's in the oven now. You can find this and more of her great recipe ideas at Problem Solvin' Mom. I've heard great things about it so I can't wait to see how it turned out! Tonight feels like a night we could use some comfort food, as the wind howls on.


62% Diesel, baby

Okay, I had to post, because Vin Diesel is my favorite! Yeah, I don't know why. It was The Pacifier, that movie is so cute! Apparently I look like him! Which is a bit ridiculous, but whatever, yay! You and me, Vin. Sweet!!!


An apolitical political rant

My MIL and stepfather have gotten into some kind of weird political argument. Via email.

Really? You two better not bring that crap to my Thanksgiving dinner table!

I get differing opinion, I get people being upset about the state of the nation (and, more to the point in our household, the economy!). But neither voter is stupid. Let's just start and finish there. I know a lot of smart democrats, and (yes, everyone, just deal with it, there's an and) a lot of smart republicans. Vote how you want to vote, but if you insist on discussing it, open your mind and ears as you can learn something from either political party. Neither one has all the answers. Nor is either one all bad. Don't be blindly liberal or blindly conservative. Talking about it with respect is the only way to go. Both sides are trying to do what they think is best for the country. Don't villaify. That's just a waste of your good brain power and everyone else's precious time. THINK ABOUT IT. It can't be that black and white. Nothing is.

Sorry, I just had to say that. As a democrat who appreciates hearing a republican point of view, just for the challenge to really test and question my own political thoughts. If they're that strong, then they can accept and withstand a little scrutiny. And that scrutiny can only come from considering the other side of the story.


Confessions of an unemployed housewife

On Tuesday and Wednesday of this week, I wore Hubs' old flannel night shirt not only to bed but as a shirt, out in public, for two days straight without changing or showering (or washing my face, but we don't need to go there). I just felt I should force myself to see that in writing.


Ripe for the pickin'

"I sell Mary Kay products. I'm a Mary Kay girl!!!"


Talk about rotten luck.

On the airplane to Austin. She's in seat 6C. I'm in 6D. By the window. With nowhere to go but out the emergency exit. I wish I'd paid attention when the flight attendant had talked about how pry that sucker open... does the inflatable slide still come out if you're already at cruising altitude?

I'm bad in sales situations. I hate being strong armed, but I'm also crap at just saying "f*ck off." I for one think it's unfair to corner someone on an airplane. I mean, nowhere to run, you little pink product pusher!

She's headed to a Mary Kay convention. She's excited about it. It should be very inspirational, she says.

Then she tries to schedule a consultation for me once we get back home. I can't say no (being I'm crap at that) so I ask for her card and I tell her I'll give her a call. Nice. Polite. She hands me her digits (along with a few brochures), but also insists on claiming my phone number. How? Just by making things ever so slightly awkward. By putting me in a position where I'd have to be repeatedly firm and rejecting. And I, on my way for a mini break to relax and get away from all things stressful, don't want to deal with awkward situations on my flight.

Natch, now she's calling me. This is made worse by her excellent sales tactic, employed once she had already laid claim to my personal information. "You're not just saying okay now and then you're going to ignore my calls, are you? I hate it when people do that. I wish they'd just say no upfront, and save me the time and energy. I call it "Minnesota Nice" - people just smile and nod their head and then later they blow me off. I hate it when people do that to me."

OF COURSE THAT'S WHAT I'M GOING TO DO TO YOU! How dare you play the victim? I've hinted every which way till Sunday that I'm not interested! I don't think I should have to be adamant and repeatedly reject you on an airplane! You figure it out! I don't want your pink magic. That's why my face looks like this! (Pained.) (And, I'd like to point out, already properly exfoliated and moisturized.) That's why I'm refusing to schedule the appointment without checking my calendar first. I told you I'm unemployed, how full do you really think my calendar is? Read between the lines! It's subtle, but I maintain that if YOU corner me with something unpleasant on an airplane while I'm trying to get into vaca mode, it's your job to read my cues. I. DON'T. WANT. YOUR. PINK. SH*T.

But now I'm the bad guy. What do I do? Call her back? Ignore her calls like she asked me not to? Allow her to come over with her pink voodoo and strip me of hundreds of dollars in my own home? I feel guilty but I still don't think all this is my fault. That was mean. She's mean. She's a big pink mean person. She tricked me into talking to her just so she could slam me with a pitch while I'm literally buckled in place. Talk about a captive audience.


Better now

Austin was awesome and SO just what I needed - sun, swimming, time with my nieces, time with my sis, and time with family. Getting away helped me wipe the slate clean. I'm refreshed and ready to face whatever comes next in my Minnesota life!

Sadly for Mookie though, the Mizzou tigers got trounced.

In another few weeks, my family comes for Thanksgiving! I love this time of year :)

I need a little time to get caught up on all the blog world goings on, but I'm working on it!


Austin's powers

I'm off to Austin tomorrow morning to see my sis, nieces, brother-in-law TO, and Mookie (who's visiting at the same time I am). Mookie and I will meet up in Dallas for the final legs of our flight. Mookie and TO are psyched because they're going to the UT/Mizzou game. TO is a longhorn, naturally, and Mookie is a Mizzou tiger fan. So at least one of them will come home happy!

C and I are opting out of the football, but I'm plenty excited nonetheless - sunshine here I come! It's a chilly 55 degrees in Minnesota today, so what better time to take a little vaca? Austin has always had a way of relaxing and soothing me, in part because when I'm there I'm surrounded by family and in part because it's just so nice and warm! I think this trip is just what the doctor ordered :)

I'll miss Hubs horribly, as I always do when we're apart. But Friday night he's having the guys over for poker, and I suspect he'll enjoy the rest of his wife-free weekend doing his 'stuff'. Whatever that may be.

I'll be offline for a while, but I hope you all have a great rest of the week and weekend!


A letter to my Hubs

Hubs has been reading my blog lately, which I *love*, but I also feel a little guilty. I worry that he's reading it because he thinks this miscarriage has somehow been too much for me, that I'm not okay and I won't be able to pick up the pieces. And so I just wanted to say to him, I am okay. One of our favorite new songs is "Turn the Car Around" and the refrain says, "How many times can I break till I shatter?" And I just wanted to let you know, Hubs, SO MANY TIMES! For this, for us, for you. You've made me so much stronger, I am so much stronger at this time in my life. I can go through a lot worse (although I hope hope hope we don't have to). I won't shatter. I love you, and you've made me whole in a way that can't be undone.


Bravo? Charlie?

Hero is a lovely puppy - he adores people, children, other dogs. He's white and fluffy and full of cuteness. So what could possibly go wrong?

I'll tell you what. Hero is the most stubborn, willful, pissy dog on the planet. Don't get me wrong here, he's definitely squirmed his way into my heart. I love him. But he's got some serious behavioral issues.

I know, I know. You can't see it. It doesn't add up. He's a cockapoo. Can you really be all that willful when your breed name ends in "poo"?

The thing about Hero is that Hero bites. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Hero, the cockapoo, bites. Elle Charlie, self proclaimed (but proclaimed nonetheless) bad ass extraordinaire, is afraid of her cockapoo. I can not say that enough. He's a cockapoo.

I really don't know where he gets this aggression from. He's neutered, and although I joke around about it, we don't yell at or get physical with Hero. We're both therapists by training. We talk, we soothe, and when push comes to shove we usually just give in. Hero isn't ever in any kind of threatening situation. He's never at risk for being harmed. We're not aggressive people, and we don't have an aggressive household.

I talked with Mookie about this the other day, because Mookie is something of an expert on canines. He's a wonderful owner to two dogs, and is endlessly fascinated by the entire species. I daresay he likes dogs better than people.

I told Mookie about an incident we had the other night, where Hero stole a dvd and then hid behind the couch. When I went to get him out, GENTLY, he growled and snapped at me. And then he bit Hubs (Hubs - gentle, patient, therapist Hubs!) twice. Hubs never loses his temper, he was merely talking calmly to Hero and trying to lure him into giving up the dvd.

When I presented this case study to Mookie, he said that Hero doesn't see us as alpha. He doesn't believe that anyone has control of the situation. Which only makes Hero more aggressive and unsure. Maybe because he can sense our anxiety (I'm sure I reek of anxiety - the moment he growls I freak out), maybe because we try to soothe him instead of taking charge. Maybe because he's just an über willful pooch. But regardless of why, Mookie felt that we need to reclaim control of the household, for the good of Hero. He believes in pack mentality - that Hero will be happier, calmer, and more at ease if we establish a pecking order (and he is not at the top of it).

Mookie suggested we do an exercise that a pet expert told him to do on his dog Sadie when she was puppy. It establishes dominance. We're supposed to put Hero on his back between our legs and hold him there until he stops struggling against us. We're not supposed to yell at him or be angry, just restrain him. And then be really nice to him, pet him and soothe him and tell him he's a good boy.

At the end of my conversation with Mookie I was very quiet. "What're you thinking?" he asked me.

"I can't believe he doesn't think I'm alpha," I replied, dumbfounded. "Me!"

"I know," Mookie commiserated, "It's a bit of a blow to the ol' self esteem, isn't it?"

So when Hubs came home that night I told him what Mookie had said. I then vented to him, "Can you believe he doesn't think I'm alpha? Me? Me!? I do everything for him!"

Hubs merely shrugged. "Maybe he thinks you're his servant," he joked.

"Well," I rounded on him, "Do you think he thinks you're alpha?"

I expected Hubs to say that of course not, he doesn't think anyone's alpha. He's an insubordinate little poocher.

Instead, Hubs shrugged again. "Yes."

I balked. "Yes!? You think he thinks you're alpha?"

"Yes," Hubs repeated. "He doesn't fight me when I have him in the submissive position. I put him on his back between my legs when I wipe his paws off and he just rests."

Now I was really getting upset. Why is Hubs alpha and not me? I would say between me and Hubs I'm far more alpha-like.

Later that night, my ego still wounded, Hero stole a tissue from the bathroom. I calmly got a hold of him and gently flipped him onto his back between my legs. He bit me twice and fought me for ages. Finally, he relaxed. But only as a tactical maneuver to gather more strength. Then there'd be another onslaught of his wrestling to get free. I talked to him calmly, but I didn't let go.

When I finally did release him I wasn't sure anything had been established. Mookie said we should do this several times a day, and then of course also when he steals things and we need to get them back.

A little later that night, Hubs let Hero outside. When Hero was ready to come back in, Hubs picked him up, placed him on his back, and began to wipe his paws. Hero was dead dog. He lay between Hubs' legs with his head on Hubs' thigh and just rested, breathing contentedly.

I stared at them. "Whttttttttttt?"

Hubs looked over at me. "He's always calm for me."

"Whttttttttt? You're alpha? And not ME? You and not me?" The proof is in the pudding. "WHY???"

Hubs shrugged again. Hey, when you got it, no need to flaunt it. Which made me even more angry.

"I can't believe this! I can't believe he doesn't think I'm in charge. I can't believe it!"

Again, with the shrugging.

"This is total crap!"

More shrugging.

"I'm not alpha, and I'm the only one who doesn't know it?"

Finally, a laugh. Ah ha. I'm funny, am I? Alpha this, boys. Just you wait! I'm in charge and while apparently that's not clear to anyone right now, just you wait. I'll show you alpha...

"Alpha's not something you do, it's something you are," Hubs told me in a very zen like voice.

Just you wait, gentleman.


The last to know

"For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been.""
John Greenleaf Whittier

My subconscious just won't let it go. Last night I had a lovely dream that I went to a doctor who was shocked to hear that my previous doctor had told us we'd miscarried. "But wait, I think I see something!" she said with excitement, pointing out a hazy image on a sonogram. "And I'm hearing a heartbeat!" I heard it too - I felt it, even, in my belly. Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom.

I got dressed again and the doctor gave me a chicken sandwich (I don't know). I munched on it while I imagined calling Hubs to tell him the good news - it was all a huge mistake. The baby is fine, it's still with us! It's right here, in my belly. I can feel it.

* * *
I woke up with emptiness in the pit of my stomach where the heartbeat had been moments earlier in my dream. It didn't take me more than a millisecond to realize it was just a fantasy. I felt a huge wave of sadness, but then to my surprise was able to get out of bed and on with my day. For the first time I thought that our life is okay, right now. With just the two of us (and of course Hero). I want a baby, we want a baby, but for now we are doing alright. We'll just try again.

We'll just try again.


Tagged: Memory lane

I have been tagged by DeeMarie at My Life in a Nutshell to write about a random photo: 4th file, 4th picture on my computer. The photo was taken in Montreal when Hubs and I chaperoned a weekend trip for the junior class of EC. We took 3 buses filled with some 100+ kids and hustled them across the border into Canada, where they could drink legally. I'm not sure there was any other purpose for that trip. (It was not a trip we were excited about chaperoning, nor one we necessarily approved of. It wasn't that we disapproved of college students going to Montreal for a wild weekend, it was more that we disapproved of a college sanctioning, actually sponsoring, the adventure. We were not excited about being in charge.)

The night this photo was taken, Hubs and I, along with our colleague CB, went into Old Town and found a romantic French restaurant for dinner. This photo was taken outside of that restaurant. I remember it was wicked late, and we were finally getting to eat dinner after spending hours dealing with a student who'd lost his passport. Turned out later that he hadn't really lost it, he'd just left it on the bus. But not knowing this, we occupied most of our evening filling out reports at the local Montreal police station. The student seemed either super clueless or stoned. Or both. He wasn't very worried about the fact that he may not be able to cross the border back home to the States with the rest of us once the trip drew to a close. More than anything, he was upset that he no longer had proper ID with which to buy alcohol.

Hubs and I were the first to leave EC several months ago, but CB followed shortly after us. He took a job in Liverpool, England. I hope he's doing well! He was a real character. The students loved him. He'd been the victim of a gay bashing long before I'd met him, and every time I thought of it I felt a knot in my stomach. CB is such a gentle soul, I can't imagine him triggering any kind of aggression. Especially in a city like Boston, which I always liked to believe was a very tolerant place to live.

Anyway... that's the story behind that picture.

Now I'm supposed to tag four more people! Let's see... I am going to tag:
Mel at Where's My Belly
MomofOneforNow at Stop the train, I wanna get off
Seussgirl at One day, two day


Spin Cycle: What's lurking in the back of my closet

The next Spin Cycle topic (brought to us by Sprite's Keeper) is fear. And it didn't take me long to figure out what I'm most afraid of. I'm afraid I'll continue to be as miserable as I feel right now. Not miserable like sobbing into a tissue miserable, but a consistent state of apathy with a touch of nastiness. I've been that way since the doctors told us maybe, when I knew full well there was no maybe. The situation was bad and we all knew it. But their insistence on hope made me hopeful, and that hopefulness, once finally crushed, has made me bitter.

I'm afraid I'll continue to be annoyed when the neighbor kids ring my doorbell to play with Hero. When I'm forced to smile at anyone. When there's a line at the checkout counter. When people pop over to see how we are. When the phone rings. When Hero needs me too much. When folks at the dog park walk too close to me. When anyone wants anything at all from me, when I feel like I have nothing to give.

I'm afraid that this minor setback has thrown me back farther than I could possibly have imagined. This loss, so small compared to what other people have experienced. Why am I so angry about it? And when will that feeling go away? Will it ever? My fear is that it won't.

My fear is that I'm not ready to try this again. My fear is that I'm too ready to try this again.


Spin Cycle: Use your words

I'm going to try to join in on the Spin Cycle thing. I think I finally understand how to do it. The topic for this week is anger management. So I'm going to write about Hero. Because he and I both need to manage our anger sometimes when we're home together all day long.

The thing that upsets me most about Hero is that sometimes he seems to do things as if he's trying to push my buttons.

One thing that always drives me crazy is when he rings his "out" bell 9,000 times when he's trying to tell me he wants to go out. His bell hangs on the back doorknob. All he has to do is hit it with his paw and I let him out. Every time. Because I want him to get comfortable using it so he never, ever, ever, ever pees in my house. But for some reason, he thinks I'm either deaf, forgetful, or completely stupid.

On a typical day, it goes like this. I'm folding the laundry, and Hero decides he wants to go outside. He's just been outside, so I know he wants to bark at something rather than do any serious business.

Jangle, jangle, jangle

"Okay, Hero, mommy just needs to finish folding this laundry and then I'll come and open the door."

Jangle, jangle, jangle

"I'm coming, Hero. Just a few more shirts and I'll be at your beck and call."

Jangle, jangle, jangle

"Here I come, just..."


"...hang on ONE SECOND..."


"Hero, please hang on because when you ring that bell it makes mommy want to shoot herself..."



Then I let him out and spend the rest of the day feeling awful for getting all worked up. And feeling rightfully disgraced for referring to myself in the third person.

Hero has his own anger management tales about how I piss him off but I promised he could put his two cents into the next Spin Cycle. Hopefully the topic for that one will be "Why I love my fabulous owners."


Is that Eau de Feces you're wearing?

The title of this post will make sense once you get to the end of it. The beginning and middle of the post have nothing to do with sh*t, so don't go looking for meaning where there is none :)

I'm trying to look on the bright side and shake it off, but I'm still feeling pretty bummed about the events of the past two weeks. It's hard to be happy right now. What I can't get past is, who's to say it won't happen again? It's hard to want to try for another pregnancy. But this experience cemented for Hubs and I just how much we're ready to be parents. So we're in a tough spot. Now we really want it. The ante's been upped.

According to my doctor and the ultrasound technician, my ovaries and hormones are perfectly normal. Last time I'd gone off the pill in Boston I hadn't ovulated regularly, and was apparently misdiagnosed by an RE out there with cystic ovaries. No cysts on the ultrasound, so I'm guessing my problems were just a result of being too thin and exercising too much. And maybe being under too much stress. My new doctor always said that diagnosis sounded wrong to him, but I figured my RE in Boston couldn't have been wrong - he was supposed to be The Best. Anyway, we've been given the precursory all clear, so now we just have to start trying. Still, I'm having trouble canceling the appointment with the IF clinic. I can't bring myself to do it. Five years is a long time to be stewing over a diagnosis that will render it harder for you to eventually get pregnant. I can't let that baggage go overnight, much as I want to. I'd love to have 5 minutes with that Boston RE. His hasty diagnosis has caused a lot of unnecessary fretting.

In other very happy news, my oldest, dearest friend P just had her baby girl, Nina Marguerite! Nina weighed in at 7 lbs 9 ounces and was born this past weekend. Both mom and baby are home and doing well! And dad is loving every minute of his new role. I only have a picture on my phone, but I'll post another as soon as I can. Nina is wicked CUTE! I know P will make a great mom and have a household full of love, understanding, and laughter.

I just got back from the dog park with Hero, who rolled in poop. Yup. Right at the end of our time at the park, of course. On our way toward the gate. I am grumpy because I had to give Hero his second bath this week, and he is angry at me because he's all wet. Still, he's loyal enough to be curled up at my feet. Well, either that or he wants to torture me with the scent of wet dog.



I found this on Vanessa's blog Random Ramblings and have decided to write why I think this October will rock. So welcome to Elle Charlie's:


  • The weather is getting cooler which means we get to use our fireplace, which is oh-so-cozy.
  • In a week I'm flying to Austin to see my sister for a long weekend! And my nieces!
  • I love Halloween, and this year we'll get to see lots of kids trick-or-treating!
  • New season of Grey's Anatomy!

How about everyone else? What'll rock your October '08?


Take that!

And that. And that!

On a positive note, Hero's been a huge help this week. We've been doing tons of "positive reinforcement" training (aka treat training) and he's responding so well. He's a sweet pooch, now that he's getting settled in and calming down :) He's definitely become part of the family.


Is it in the water?

In other news, friends of our just suffered a miscarriage at I think about 13 weeks. We dropped a tray of brownies off at their house, just to let them know we're thinking of them (we realize the brownies won't actually help, but wanted to express our sympathy). I feel for them - 13 weeks means they probably had about 7-9 weeks of knowing, planning, celebrating, and dreaming. We had one day, and that just about tore us to pieces. I can't imagine loss at that stage. I know some of you have gone through it, and I am buoyed by your strength and courage, and your stories of hope.


"Did that chick just bite it?"

So my weekend. It was not good. It sucked, as weekends go. We spent Saturday celebrating with our friends A and J at J's parents' lake house (a more informal post-wedding reception reception) and then went to Hubs' high school reunion. Hubs was class VP, so he had to help organize the reunion, and we had to go. Normally, it would have been a fine experience. Probably not über fun for me, but fine. In this instance, it was torture. All we heard throughout the night (or at least the only question I can remember) was: "Do you guys have kids?" "When are you going to start a family?" Which made me want to punch people. It really did. Even some of Hubs' closer friends asked us that, and didn't seem to notice when my eyes filled with tears. Then again, they were drunk. Drunk parents. Of kids. Kids home with baby sitters. Kids delivered after normal, healthy pregnancies. I wanted to hide in the bathroom more than I think I've ever wanted that in my whole life.

I feel bad because I was pretty shitty arm candy for Hubs. I try to be social and outgoing when we're out, even when I don't know anyone, because I don't want Hubs to feel like he has to worry about or take care of me in social situations. But last night I just snapped. I've spent 3 months in nonstop social situations where I don't know anybody. And I'm getting to know people, but it's a tiring process. I never get to be in groups of people where I'm comfortable. I know it'll come in time. But for now, it can make for exhausting weekends (and often, weekdays). I go to Hubs' family things, Hubs' work things, Hubs' friends things, and it's all new and, to be honest, scary for an introvert. I can flash the smiles and make the small talk pretty well, but it drains me. And last night I was down to empty.

I spent half the night working the check-in table, refusing to leave my post to go into the party even to get food. I made Hubs go instead. When he suggested I take a break and pick out what I might want to eat, I snapped at him and told him I was absolutely not going into a room full of people I did not know. Not again, not this night. No more. My body still feels pregnant, I know there is something dying inside of me, and I just can't even pretend to be a good sport. I can't do it. It's too much. There is too much pain and discomfort. I didn't want to be there, and I shouldn't have gone. Poor Hubs didn't particularly want to be there either, and I wasn't making it easy for him.

Finally, near the end of the unbearable night, I fell. I slipped on the heels of my boots and just... fell. Right on the floor. In front of loads of people who probably thought I was hammered. It hurt like a son of a bitch. And I think that's when I really got it: I can't even pretend to act normal. I laughed and laughed, because the whole thing was so ridiculous. I can't do anything but feel awful right now, and being out, faking like I'm fine, is just insanity. I laughed until I almost cried, and then we finally got to go home. I cried through the entire 40 minute drive.

Once at home, I ate three pieces of banana bread, hugged Hero until I was afraid he might burst, and went to bed, snuggling into Hubs so much that when I woke up this morning he commented, "You were such a bed hog last night!" I don't care - I needed to be comforted. Hubs is being enormously patient, given that he's disappointed and hurting too. When I talk to him about it, he just says he has enough strength. He says that he has it, plenty for both of us. So I guess I'll take him up on that, and lean on him. At least until I can avoid falling on my ass again.


You shouldn't have

But I'm glad you did - it makes my face do this - :)

I got an award from DeeMarie at My Life in a Nutshell. She writes a great blog about her life and adventures with work, family, friends, and the very exciting pursuit of the perfect new home!!! I love her blog, and I know you will too, so if you haven't read it, pop on over! She's sweet, funny, and has the cutest icon.

And now, I'm going to pass the award on to two bloggers.

The first is Alison over at (un)complicate me. She's a wonderful, supportive blogger writing about life as a first-time expectant mom! She and her husband J are awaiting the arrival of Cletus, a baby boy (Cletus is his in-womb nickname, not necessarily his name)! Alison always makes time to comment on everyone's blog, and congratulate and offer support to other folks dealing with IF-related challenges. She has two dogs (and gives great dog-related advice!) and lovely, curly hair that I envy!

And second, Ellie at Happy Not-So-Newlywed, who writes about her experiences ttc with her wonderful husband Mr. E, working fulltime with sometimes challenging colleagues, and going back to grad school while navigating the world of IVF. It looks like she and Mr. E are getting their happy ending, so stay tuned to her blog as she makes her dreams of motherhood come true.

So thanks, DeeMarie, for giving me this award, and Alison and Ellie for giving me two of my favorite blogs to check out daily.


7 Quirks

Deb tagged me to list 7 quirky things about me (thanks for the distraction, and for my first ever tag!). So, here goes:

  1. I LOVE heat. LOVE IT. I scald myself in the shower, and curl up with a heating pad all year round. I love to put it on my belly and often do so until my belly turns bright red. I have in the past given myself heat rash on several occasions.
  2. I love to stock the house with lots of different kinds of candy, cookies, or ice cream. Even if I don't eat it, I just like to have it on hand. It drives Hubs nuts, because I'll go out and buy Trader Joes chocolate Cat Cookies after just opening (and then never touching again) a giant Costco tub of animal crackers. I don't know why I do it - especially since I tend toward healthy eating - it just makes my sweet tooth feel safe to have lots of options if and when they're needed.
  3. Every night when I use mouthwash, I feel the urge to tell Hubs something. So I act it out during the one minute that I'm supposed to be swishing. He's gotten pretty good at guessing.
  4. I love writing on a chalk board. Especially with those fancy teacher chalk holders. When I was a kid, I once stole a fancy teacher chalk holder (sorry Mrs. Erikson!) to use at home on my own little chalk board when I played school. I also love yellow chalk. I stole that too, as a kid (sorry again, Mrs. Erikson, apparently 4th grade was a very klepto year).
  5. For some reason, I freak out if Hubs is on the stairs behind me. I cover my butt with both hands because I worry he is going to, I don't know what, pinch it? Smack it? He's never touched my butt (on the stairs), but I always cover it anyway. This is very noticeable now that we live in a house with two sets of stairs.
  6. I make a funny freaky smiley face whenever I've been getting my picture taken too much (and since Hubs is the family photographer, that tends to be often). Hubs doesn't appreciate it, because he thinks it ruins the photo :) It looks like this:
  7. I am obsessed with my skin - I always think it is awful. I think this comes from having breakouts into adulthood - it makes a person paranoid. I am always scheming about how to fix my skin, even when I can reasonably tell there is nothing wrong with it at the moment.

I am now going to tag:
Streaking Iron


Pulled under

I feel angry. I wish I didn't, but I do. Last night I felt overwhelming fury because we didn't have any stamps. I'm pretty sure it wasn't really about the stamps.

The thing is, I longed for this baby. I never for one second believed I deserved it, but I really really wanted to get to keep it.

I can imagine a million justifiable reasons why the powers that be would decide I'm not fit to carry this child. But I just want to know what the deciding factor was.


Thank you all

for so much support. Part of me feels like we were pregnant for such a short time, that it's almost silly to be upset. But of course, I feel devastated. And the ups and downs of so much uncertainty, such tenuous hope, just intensify the pain, confusion, and sadness we're wrestling with. The fact that you all respond as if I have a right to feel this loss, well... it's helpful beyond words.

I'm going to go read about everyone else now, and take my mind off things.