What Probably Gets Left Behind August 27, 2011Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Home Life, Marriage.
There’s no turning back now: yesterday Brian paid a significant chunk of cash to get the key to the new house and today we’re bringing the first of the boxes over. (An aside: we’ve packed around fifteen boxes comprised of only books and that’s barely made a dent – what the hell? It’s like they mutate.) We were talking about the plans for today last night and while he was listing all the crap that has to happen over the next few weeks, I interrupted him to say, “This is literally a dream of mine that’s coming true.” He replied with what I considered to be one of the sweetest things he’s ever said to me: “I know; that’s why we’re doing this.”
It’s not as though he doesn’t want to move, but honestly he would’ve been okay not to. Between a slightly more expensive rent and the family politics that will generate some fallout, he’s been a little more stressed than I have over this whole thing. He suffers a little more from inertia than I do at times. This current house is the longest we’ve stayed in any one place, coming in right at four years and while he made it clear he never wanted to buy this place or settle here long-term, he would’ve been fine staying awhile longer. My stubborn stance of this new situation literally falling into our laps won him over, but I also was adamant he be on board with the move or it wouldn’t happen. No house is worth him being unhappy to me.
What this also feels like, a little, is a trade-off. We haven’t talked about the kid thing for awhile but the more time passes where nothing is done about it, the closer I get to accepting it not ever happening. Does any material thing make up for that – a new car a few months ago, a new house now? Obviously not. But with every significant financial decision we make, in my mind it nags me that this takes us further away from any kind of Let’s Try to Get Us a Kid plan. And I’ve been trying really hard to figure out if I can finally put the idea to rest. Mental lists of friends who are leading happy lives sans children. How traveling, both by myself and with him takes no more planning than making time in our schedules. And soon, waking up every morning to have coffee on a deck that’s right off of the kitchen that overlooks the yard I got married on next to my favorite lake.
I wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t that nagging voice whispering to me, but I’m trying really hard to silence the bitch for good.
Floaty Hope March 13, 2010Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Bloggie Friends.
Wow. The response from Swistle’s post has been hee-yuge and every new comment and email I get gives me a little more hope. Which in turn gives me inspiration and confidence to think: You know? I think we can actually do this. We’re good people. We’d be good parents. We WANT to be parents, and we’re willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen. We’ve overcome a lot of obstacles, both together and individually and there’s no reason this one should be any different.
I know this process could end up being a rather long one and I’m okay with that. Because the point is we’d be progressing toward a goal and being proactive about it again, instead of sitting around in a bowl of inertia. Even with the disappointment that went along with the fertility situation, I felt a happy buoyancy the majority of the time, because we were actively working toward the goal. Every doctor’s appointment, every syringeful of medication and pill I took, every time that damn ultrasound wand got stuck up where the sun don’t shine – all of it was worth it. Even now, because the way I see it, that was all part of the journey we’ve chosen to take in order to make a family. For months and months I stopped hoping and imagining this family, but I’m starting to see it again. And man, it’s a beautiful sight.
He and I have been having a lot more conversations about planning for this in terms of reality rather than theory, and that’s been great too. For so long after our final consultation with the fertility doctor, when Brian promised me we wouldn’t give up, we just kind of stopped talking about it. Life went on, as it does, and even though it never left my mind, I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I have to remember that even though he’s always willing to talk about whatever I need to talk about, it’s pretty much always going to be up to me to open the communication lines. I’m cool with that.
I’m so thankful to everybody who’ve opened up to me, a stranger, about something so personal. It’s amazing to me, someone who doesn’t easily trust people in general, that so many people are so good and kind and want to help however they can. This has been a big revelation in so many ways.
I feel invigorated. And ready.
Kindness abounds March 11, 2010Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Bloggie Friends.
I’d like to take this opportunity to say thanks times a million to Swistle for doing this for me. In fact, that’s pretty much all I can think of to say right now, as I’m completely overwhelmed.
So thank you. Again. The fact someone who doesn’t even know me would take time out of her hugely, ridiculously busy schedule for me…well, I just…yeah.
See, I’m not good at this.
I’ll stop now.
Hope Floats & So Do Bubbles December 8, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Holidays, Work.
One of my co-workers just came into my office and shut the door behind her. She said, “Kim, I wanted to tell you before Janet makes the announcement, but I’ve found another job.” I was a little weirded out for a minute with a thousand different emotions (really, a thousand? Okay, maybe three or four). Deborah is a nice lady with whom I’ve enjoyed a friendly acquaintance for a couple of years and I know she’s been miserable here, so even though I’ll miss her presence, I’m more happy for her than anything else. She’s been here six years and she’s burnt – totally understandable.
I’m pretty happy here, which is why the slight jealousy I felt confused me for a minute. I don’t want a new job; I specifically applied here when we moved back and it took two agonizing months to land this position. Even with the minor annoyances I sometimes experience – because hey, it is a job and not sitting home reading all day and eating magical cookies that make you lose weight all day – so these things are to be expected and I have no real complaints. She’s moving to a different department within the university and though I’ve thought of doing that very same thing, it’s mainly only when my boss pisses me off. I liked a lot of things about my last office here, but kick-ass parking and an office with a door were not included like they are now.
But I think I know what my deal was just now anyway. She’s getting to experience change. Growth. That exciting feeling of hope and potential when something big and new is on the horizon like that. She was practically giddy with it, as she should be. But that feeling is what I’m envying right now. Like, hard.
It was a year ago this week George came to us with the offer of helping finance the fertility treatment. I remember vividly how I was literally scared of how happy I was. Having the knowledge, like a little secret bubble of happiness inside me at all times, there was actually a real shot of having my biggest dream realized changed everything. Add Christmastime to that and you had one happy-ass girl over here.
Like a lot of people, I’ve always loved this time of year, pretty much no matter what’s going on in my life at the time (barring that one year). And I have been enjoying all the holiday stuff so far this year. But the other night I looked in my date book to see what the number of hair dye I use and I saw where I’d written on the date and time of that first doctor’s appointment and it felt like a punch in the gut.
I don’t know. I know I have a lot to be thankful for and I’ve been feeling pretty good in general lately.
I just want the happy-bubble back.
Whine & Cheese October 8, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making.
I realized something the other day. In the past year, the year we tried the hardest and failed the most spectacularly to get pregnant, I’ve known eight women, personally known mind you, who have gotten pregnant and/or had babies. That’s a riot, isn’t it?
One of them tried for two months and was successful; she’s due a week before Christmas.
One of them had been married longer than I have and they’ve tried and tried with many problems but finally this year after a minor procedure and some fertility help were able to do it. Baby Destiny is six weeks old.
One of them wasn’t even technically divorced yet from her ex-husband and had only been with her current man a few months when it happened for them. Their daughter was born a few weeks ago.
One, a very sweet co-worker. Well, it was a downright miracle they achieved pregnancy; even the doctor told them so, as her husband had some medical issues and she never ovulated regularly and the length of her ovulation was so short they’d already given up on it and had started looking into adoption possibilities. She cried with me one day in my office and told me God would see to a miracle for me just like He did for her. Baby Regan was born last week.
One, a very sweet ex co-worker. They already have three young girls and two other kids they inherited because of a family tragedy and are very young and very overwhelmed and weren’t necessarily trying, but went to Vegas one weekend and had a good enough time so that now they’re almost three months along and praying for a boy.
Two of them are cousins of Elizabeth, the kid I’m closest to in the world and part of a family who likes to start breeding young and continue breeding often. Both of them are due in a few months, I think within a few weeks of each other.
I also have a good friend who is getting married next month and becoming a stepmom to a beautiful three-year-old boy. This friend wanted to be a mother as badly as I did and spent a long time waiting for the right man whom she finally found last year and I’m so happy for her. But now she too will join the ranks of momhood, leaving me behind, kinda back here alone in the dust. The barren, stupid dust.
Okay, it’s out of my system now; just thought I’d purge it.
Adieu, August August 31, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Home Life, Weather, Work.
This thing has been happening the past few days where I wake up at some ungodly, unnecessary hour and don’t go back to sleep. This type of annoying insomnia (is it really insomnia if you’ve slept four or five consecutive hours?) happens to me once in awhile, usually when I’m looking forward to something – an upcoming trip, for example. And while we do have some fun plans for October, that’s too far away to account for being that excited yet. We did get our first “cool” front that arrived last night, but if I’m that excited about the weather? I’m thinking maybe I should reevaluate some things. Even after going to bed at 3:30 a.m. Sunday morning, Brian woke up with me at 7:30, but that’s easy enough to explain – he’s losing his mind counting down every hour until the Gamecocks’ season kicks off this Thursday night.
Fall does make me extremely happy though; and I never remember how many little aspects of it affect my life for the positive until they start happening – the good hair (though not today – just call me Frizzy McFuzzyhead), the not worrying about melting groceries during the one-minute commute home from the store, the cooking and eating of heavier fare like the pot roast I cooked all day yesterday, the fighting over the TV because not only is there football but there’s also ALL NEW SHOWS, MY GOD, HOW MANY FUCKING NIGHTS A WEEK DO YOU HAVE TO WATCH FUCKING FOOTBALL, I PAY THE CABLE BILL IN THIS HOUSE TOO, GIVE ME THE FUCKING REMOTE NOW! Ahem.
I just got back from meeting with a co-worker who used to work in adoptions. She gave me some good information and let me know that should I end up pursuing that route, I can call on her anytime for any help, even if I’m just freaking out (she knows me pretty well). I know it always helps knowing someone who knows other people in situations like this, so I feel less intimidated already. I mean…it would be a long and arduous process, but considering what I went through the first six months of this year, I kind of feel like I could handle the challenge. Yes, there would be mountains of paperwork, extensive background checks and massive home invasions by nosy caseworkers, but compared to getting shot up with hormones and crotch-probed and making two hour trips to get injected with jizz and then seeing negative pregnancy tests month after month? CAKE, BABY.
This no computer having at home shit is getting old. When I’m totally having withdrawals Brian lets me use his Blackberry, but most sites are completely annoying and I don’t usually last long with that. I could not imagine typing for long periods of time like that. I’m sure we’ll end up with something new eventually though; in the meantime there are more important things to pay for, like…well, shit. It’s always something, you know? Could be much worse, so I’ll quit the bitchin’, how’s that.
Don’t You Forget About Me August 25, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Home Life, Jews, Movies, Weather, Whatever, Work.
Apparently evil forces are conspiring to prevent me from my usual internet habits. Between the home computer finally farting out its final queef Friday night (during Brian’s weekly poker tourney, no less) and work pickign up in that brisk and annoying way it does every Fall, I feel like I’m completely out of the cyber loop. And I don’t like it, not one little bitch (typo, but it stays). In fact, I should really be working right now, but dammit enough’s enough already.
Hmm, so now that I’m here I can’t think of what I wanted to say. Typical. So much, yet nothing really important. Counting the days ’til the good weather arrives, of course. Funny how it’s right about now where every year I feel like I can’t deal with the heat anymore and right as I reach my breaking point, we get that first little hint of cool, dry mornings and nights. I was cleaning the closet room (again) the other night and I discovered a notebook where I’d written last year “September 15 – First day of wearing long sleeves.” Yes, I am that much of a dork. But like I told Heather, I appreciate myself when I do stupid shit like that. Because now either I can look forward to wearing long sleeves three weeks from today, or I can be disappointed that the day isn’t as cool as it was last year but either way know it won’t be too much longer now. Little things like that keep me enthusiastic about being alive.
What else. Oh yeah – for the first time in ages, and I mean ages, I got hit on yesterday! Well, that sounds rude and in reality it wasn’t that way at all. Our building’s roof is caving in (it’s qualified as “historic” which actually means “we don’t have funds to either tear it down or rennovate it so let’s keep putting duct tape on it”) so there have been maintenance guys here almost every day. There’s one in particular who I usually say hi to or end up making small talk with – no flirting, I swear, and yesterday he asked if I remembered to bring my lunch (I had forgotten it the other day). I said “No, I forgot it again,” and he then asked if I wanted to go get something to eat. I am so out of practice because I didn’t see that one coming a mile away. I kind of laughed and said, “Well, the husband probably wouldn’t be too happy about that!” and he looked down at my ring hand and blushed fourteen shades of red. He said “I did NOT notice your ring!” and I believe him, because no one can fake blushing like that. When I told Brian (of course I did!) he said, “The poor guy had probably debated doing it all weekend, only to get shot down.” I hadn’t thought of that. But, a little awkward, a little ego boost, no harm, no foul. Like Grace said, it’s a shame he’s the roof guy instead of the computer guy, considering my problem at home. Those days are long past and times like these I really miss them. At least I’ll know who to flirt with should our roof at home become problematic.
We saw Inglourious Basterds over the weekend. Not as bad as my friend Stephanie thought it was, but definitely not Pulp Fiction or Kill Bill level. As a Jew, I did enjoy the revenge fantasy aspect of it and Brad still makes me laugh, but way too long and a little indulgent. A good way to kill a hot afternoon though.
Finally talked to Mother. Nothing new to report there.
Been trying to speak with a co-worker who used to work in adoptions, but both of our schedules have prevented that from happening. Barring putting an ad on Craigslist (“Wanted: Baby, sex unimportant, between the ages of 0 and 4 weeks, to a good home.”), adoption is really the only avenue I see that’s left. And the more time passes, the more I’m okay with that. I came across an empty pill bottle that used to contain some of those evil hormones the other day and stood there in shock, thinking about how I spent the first six months of this year. It’s already taken on the quality of something I might have dreamed instead of something that actually happened and that alone amazes me. The first of the eight pregnant people I know gave birth last week and it barely registered with me. I don’t know what that means.
To end on an upbeat note, I’ll leave you with a joke:
A baby seal walks into a club…
Baby Steps Re: Babies July 17, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Friends.
Tomorrow I’m taking a big step toward regaining my mental health. Such as it is.
I’m going to lunch with a good friend I haven’t seen in months. K is who I worked with when we both lived in Florida and by some weird coincidence ended up moving here a year before we did when her husband’s job relocated them. We live about a half hour away from each other and up until recently have gotten together and done something fun about once a month or so. Until I sort of lost my mind a little based on my infertility issues.
She and her husband had started trying to get pregnant during the same time period I was going through all the treatment. And you know what I’m going to say, right? After a couple of months of trying (two? three? does it matter?) they became successful. The tricky part is that she hasn’t officially told me yet; I was told by a mutual friend of ours. Someone who knows my situation well and when I mentioned I had dinner plans with K, reluctantly (and tearfully) told me so I’d be a little prepared when I heard the news from K. And I very much appreciated that, as I know she did it only out of love and concern for me. And I handled it in a very mature and healthy way – begged off from the dinner plans and put her off ever since. Unbelievably pathetic? Yes, I know. Trust me, the therapist had a field day with that one.
It’s not like this is a unique situation for me. Currently she’s one of five, that’s FIVE people I personally know who is with child. And seriously – I don’t even know that many people. And it’s not that I think she and her husband won’t make excellent parents; I know they will. It’s not like it’s a teenage, unplanned, unwanted, out-of-wedlock, druggie, welfare pregnancy. The worst thing I’ve heard her say with regards to it was she was slightly less zealous about trying to get pregnant than the husband. To the point he asked me where the office was Brian got tested because he was interested in going to do the same thing “Just to make sure.” She likes her cocktails and wasn’t looking forward to nine months of teetotaling. The last time we saw each other, she told me she’d been a little irritated at his insistence on her doing post-coital handstands and that every time she mentioned something about her stomach not feeling great, he got excited and practically waved a pee stick in front of her. Hey, I don’t blame the guy, and I’m sure he’s ecstatic right now. He’s going to be a great dad.
And I don’t hold her reservations against her either; I’m sure she’s just as thrilled as he is now and will in turn make a great mom. It was just that it felt like the same old tired story: me – doing anything and everything I could do and nothing. Her – eh, whatever, and BAM.
But, this falls firmly in the Life’s Not Fair category and I feel a little stupid. With all the feelings I just described, I also want to go on record as saying I NEVER want someone to feel bad for getting pregnant while being a friend or family member of mine. Which is another reason I’ve avoided her – God, I do NOT want to be a source of pity or guilt. I feel like a total moron now. I’ve missed her and I’m really looking forward to seeing her tomorrow. When she tells me her news and I exclaim happily, it’s going to be an honest reaction.
I think that’s what’s known as progress.
On the Bright Side, She’s Not Joan Crawford July 15, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Fam Damily, Life, Moods, Nail Biter, Vacation, Whatever.
Okay, I’m going to go ahead and write about this at the risk of making myself look like a total asshole. I know – what’s new, right?
So I’m sure I’ve written before about the very strained relationship I have with my mother. The fact that she’s a career alcoholic. That she was never a very happy person to begin with but after my dad died, she finally got justification for her misery and became just dismal. How it’s very hard for me to spend any amount of time with without wanting to put a bullet into my head. You get the idea. I’m going to go ahead and put a disclaimer out there, that my sister knows exactly how I feel and why and shares these feelings as well. I don’t think that’s a justification for anything, just that there is actually another person on this earth who knows exactly where I’m coming from on this.
I’m in the middle of a big internal debate right now about whether or not I’m going to visit her when I’m in Florida.
God, just writing that out loud was hard. I know how it sounds. You should’ve seen the look on Brian’s face when I finally got up the balls last night and asked him, How disappointed in me would you be if I didn’t see my mom when I’m down there? He looked at me like I’d just said I was going to take a lap around the block naked. All he really managed to say was, Well it’s your decision, but babe….Yeah. I know. Sister had a very different reaction, more like, She’s a miserable person and no matter how hard we try to be good daughters, she’s never going to be a good mother. I wouldn’t blame you a bit if you didn’t want to see her.
Guess which answer is my favorite?
On the one hand, it doesn’t matter what kind of person she is; she’s my mother. I do love her. (Right? Right.) And whenever I picture what my dad would say when I’m having these evil feelings, I feel truly ashamed of myself. Whenever either me or Sister would have some beef with her when he was still alive, he’d always say But she’s your mother. And that got the point across. As in, you may not like it and she may be acting ridiculous, but suck it up and deal with it; she’s the only mother you’ll ever have.
On the other hand, I haven’t had an easy time of it the past few months. I spent six solid months undergoing a ton of emotional strain with no resolution regarding the baby thing. My mother’s way of comforting me during that was to tell me it’s all her fault I can’t get pregnant because she had such a hard time conceiving me. And that right there folks, that, is the type of logic you get from a twisted, alcohol-addled brain. Like Sister says, she’s so immersed in her own pathetic little world, she can’t hear anyone else’s story but her own. Doesn’t really make for healthy mother/daughter dialogue and it’s a challenge when I’m HAPPY, let alone when I’m going through a bunch of shit.
I’ve been working really hard to pull myself up out of a really deep funk and I think I’ve done a fairly decent job of it over the past month or so. Eating better, exercising and not pumping raging hormones into your body will do wonders that way. But still, and this isn’t an exaggeration – why should I subject myself to someone who only makes me feel uncontrollable rage every time I see her? I go to great lengths to avoid negative people and things, so the fact that she wins the prize for most miserable isn’t very convenient that way.
But I guess family isn’t always meant to be shits and giggles. That’s what I have friends for.
I don’t know. Right now I’m tentatively planning to possibly stop in at the golf course one afternoon and surprise her at work. This has two benefits: 1. She’ll be sober, (or as much as can be expected when more vodka runs through your veins than blood) and 2. The visit will have a definite time limit, and that limit is an hour. Yes, she’ll be surprised in a bad way that I just showed up out of the blue from two states away without telling her first. And that will force me to tell a white lie (why it always gotta be white?) and say I decided at the last minute to drive down for my uncle’s surgery. Which has a bit of truth to it. Shit, I don’t know. I have the feeling it’s going to be something I don’t actually decide until I’m there. And I have a whole week left to torture myself over it – my favorite!
So yeah, if you ever wondered if I’m a bad person – mystery solved.
I don’t want to end on a downer note, so I’ll pose a question. Are married couples who communicate to each other through Facebook as douchey as they seem? Mrs. So-and-so’s status: “I LOVE YOU, HUNNY!” Mr. So-and-so’s status: “I LOVE YOU MORE, SWEETUMS!” Sometimes I wish Brian was more into computer stuff until I see things like that. Somebody pass the barf bag; I feel a vom comin’ on.
Okay then; whew!
Bunny Farts and Lollipops Forever,
Little Miss Sunshine
Of Fertility and Beyond June 25, 2009Posted by Kimmothy in Baby-Making, Experience, The Man.
So I’m back from the fertility consultation. We spent an hour going over what’s been done over the past six months, possible reasons for why things didn’t work and what our future options are. Dr. Babymaker was very thorough and patient and answered all of our questions, but we didn’t even make it completely outside of the office before I started crying. I wasn’t surprised; it’s been building for awhile. The entire year so far has felt like a roller coaster ride, but not a smooth and fun one like Space Mountain; more like an old rickety wooden one where you hear scary creaking noises as you go up and down and are never sure when something might break, sending you flying off into space. Not a great analogy, but it’s all I got right now.
What it boils down to at this point with the three failed IUI attempts, is that our best bet financially and percentage-wise is IVF. When people say “You can always adopt,” they might not realize it’s actually twice as expensive as the typical IVF cycle. I didn’t realize it until today. In fact, the more the doctor cleared up all of my questions, the more hopeless I started becoming. Bascially where we’re at now is realizing my worst fear when we started this. The unsuccessful treatments due to “unexplained fertility.” He went over what some of the possible causes could be, but there is no solid answer. That and the fact that we’ve spent thousands of dollars of both ours and George’s money and for us to consider IVF would be another $10,000 plus, I’m amazed I held my shit together as long as I did.
So we walked outside and stood under a tree by Brian’s truck. I had the tears and snot happening, but no loud sobbing or hysterics. I started to complain about the doctor with no real reason except that I’m not pregnant. Brian stopped me and started talking. He said he understands I’m disappointed right now and that he is as well. But that no matter what happens, we have a life together and he loves it. And me. That I need to stop trying to place blame on things – myself, God, all the other women in the world who are currently pregnant or have had kids. (How’d he know that?) That all we can do is keep on trying and trust God that it’s going to work out either way. Immediately, I thought of something I’d just read earlier this morning
Excellent timing, I must say.
I think Brian said more about this today than he’s said all along; we were out there talking under that tree for a good thirty minutes. I still cried, but he does this great thing where he can usually make me laugh while I’m crying and he did that. I told him that if there’s anything positive to come out of this so far is that I’ve realized all over again how lucky I am to have him for my husband. That I could be married to the Governor right now and that would really suck. (I like making him laugh during heavy conversations too). Then we talked about whether or not we should bring the dog over with us on the tiling job tonight, how he’s down to only two good pairs of jeans so he needs to do laundry tonight and how maybe this weekend we’ll get him some new pairs. Then we kissed and hugged a lot and went our separate ways back to work.
I go see the therapist in a little while (how convenient these appointments both fell on the same day), but I don’t think there are going to be any big revelations today. If she asks how I’m feeling I’ll tell her the truth: unlucky. And very lucky. I should probably leave out the fact that Brian’s totally getting a blow job tonight, but knowing me, I’ll say it anyway. That’s what she gets paid the big bucks for, right?