Archive for March, 2007

Reproductive Genetics

March 30, 2007

Of course.

Karma, the Goddess, whomever, I think likes messing with me. As soon as I get done writing my make every day an awesome day post, Reproductive Genetics Institute calls.

Yep, they have set up the testing system for our family. They are now ready to test our embryos for my hubby’s OI mutation whenever we are. I just need to call to let them know when I am cycling.

I can’t cry at work. Ok, I can. And I have. But this just feels like a blow to me. Like, before, I had the excuse that I couldn’t do IVF yet because they were waiting to set the $4,500 test up. Now, I only have to blame my displasia-icky cervix. Great. Awesome. Fantabulous.

Stupid cervix.



March 30, 2007

I’ve decided to maybe borrow Matthew McConaughey’s life motto (and no, of course I wasn’t obsessed with him in college or anything like that) and use it in my own daily life.

Just Keep Living.

I’d like to think everyday I get closer to being pregnant. But really, I don’t know if I am. I mean, yes, as every day passes I am one day closer to that June pap, which will reveal if I have a normal va-jay-jay or not. But really does it mean I’m closer to pregnancy? It doesn’t. I like to think that it does, but nothing in life is guaranteed. So, I have to keep on living. And living life to its fullest.

But then, I think what is living my life to the fullest? I go to work daily and tip tap on my computer all day long. (I know, reading my blog, you might wonder why someone actually pays me to write but I am a journalist by trade…Amazing, huh?) How is that living fully? I guess it pays the bills, puts the roof over our heads and will, eventually, support the children we have.

But, really, is this living to its fullest? Am I experiencing all I need to be in life? Or am I just keeping on living and not really getting anywhere?

I blame this new “epiphany” on watching the Travel Channel last night and catching “1,000 Places to See Before You Die.” Stupid television… Ok, so why weren’t we chosen to travel the world on this show? And why do I feel like crap that I’m already 0-2 on the places to visit?

Maybe it’s because our “big” vacation this year is our annual vacation, visiting Texas, where we met and where my hubby wants to eventually end up. Not that I don’t love going back to the little town we met in and visiting all of our friends who live there. But shouldn’t I be flying to Africa and seeing gazelles? Witnessing first hand the Great Wall of China? Granted, paying for IVF will dash any of those travel plans but…

So how do I live my life to the fullest? Do more than just live day-to-day? I want to try and do that thing where I live each day like it was my last but how do I do that when the mundane aspects of daily life get in the way?

Is being a bitch bad?

March 27, 2007

In an effort to expand myself during my reproductive holding pattern, I am opting to start this quest of personal growth, self-discovery or something to prove myself as not such a bitch.

But then is being a bitch such a bad thing?

I don’t mean to ask a question in such a Carrie Bradshaw manner but really, is being a bitch bad?

Forget about the misogynistic society of ours where there is no male equivalent to bitch, slut, whore or mistress, for example, and the overwhelming propensity to try and label every one of us. But the actual word, bitch.

bitch (bĭch) noun

  • A female canine animal, especially a dog.
  • A malicious, unpleasant, selfish person, esp. a woman.
  • A lewd woman.
  • Anything difficult or unpleasant.
  • Anything memorable, esp. something exceptionally good.
  • A complaint.

I am a bitch. Not always. But sometimes. I can be unpleasant. I can be malicious.

And I know I am selfish. This journey toward motherhood has proven that. I feel massive amounts of guilt in my selfishness of trying to conceive a biological baby without my hubby’s genetic mutation. My partner in life is an incredible human being, who has not allowed his disease to define him but, rather, it’s merely just another facet to him.

I feel guilt in knowing I can be denying this world someone like him because of my desire not to watch my child suffer through OI. I feel selfish and ashamed at the anger and hurt I feel when people suggest we look for a sperm donor or adoption.

Our path toward parentage has been a bitch too – difficult and memorable. We chose it though. And for whatever reason, there are tons of bumps along the way. I assume there is a reason but maybe not. It’s just the way it is. Life is a bitch.

And maybe that’s ok.

Weekend Update…

March 26, 2007

I don’t know quite why I feel the need to post on a near-daily basis. I am the only one who reads this, but if nothing else it’s a cathartic thing.

The painting never happened. It is merely stenciling and my BFF is unconvinced of the size of stars I am wanting to paint on the walls. She is a perfectionist while I’m insisting that having these little stars all over the walls in an even placement isn’t the look she will want, she needs some random big ones scattered around, but what can you do?

And she is now starting to look preggers. She lost like 16 pounds during the start of her pregnancy and is only now at “zero.” It’s weird. It’s now becoming real she will be a mom in July.

Maybe, in July, I can start trying for the elusive mom moniker. This totally blows. And I’m still acting the bitch. And acting ungrateful for what I have and feeling sorry for myself. I thought about posting a list of all the things I was grateful for and decided that was a little too stupid even for me. So, instead, I’ll continue to rant about nothing. What a compromise.


March 24, 2007

I thought I would post before I went over to my best friend’s house and started painting her baby room. I figured I might be sad following, knowing I’ve yet a year to go before I could possibly be even having one of my own.

I am so happy for her and that she’ll be having my “niece.” But I am sad and jealous too. We knew she was pregnant; she just had to take the test. She called on the day that my in-laws were arriving, with our 1 1/2-year-old niece in tow, for Thanksgiving. A double reminder of what I was missing. I remember telling my hubby that night, it was bittersweet. I was happy for her but aching for us.

She’s asked if it’s been hard talking about her pregnancy, shopping for baby, etc., since I wasn’t. And I told her it hasn’t been hard. I love being a part of her pregnant life and sharing, just a little bit, in this experience. I didn’t tell her though I was disappointed in her and her hubby when they found out the news. “Yeah, we’d been trying, so we knew it was going to happen.” Not crazy, jumping up excitement. Not overwhelming joy. Not feeling utterly blessed and lucky to be pregnant. Or, all the things I imagine I’ll be doing when I found I’m pregnant (hear that universe not if but WHEN!).

I also feel I am somewhat pushed aside for the Mommy Mafia. I don’t know if this is just what happens when you are pregnant but I do feel like I’m not part of this new clique she spends time with. I know. Again, jealousy. But it’s so hard. Especially when I know how these two other mommies to be got knocked up. One, married less than three months decided to change her pill prescription and shares the exact due date as my BFF.

The other, what a story. My BFF’s friend since high school. First marriage to a gay man ended in divorce. Second marriage ended in separation. Yet because he didn’t have enough money for child support and rent, he lives in the basement of her house. They have a 2-year-old. And she decided she wanted to have another baby, with him, so her son could have a full-blood sibling. I have two half-blood siblings, trust me, there is no difference in how I love them, so I’d imagine it’d be the same. It is just holidays are doubled and tripled now, but really. That’s it.

So, one day she decided to go off the pill. The following weekend she had her Aunt Flow. A couple days later she had sex with the ex and BOOM pregnant. It’s not so much that she’s a fertile Myrtle but I can’t imagine how having your ex live in your basement is a healthy way to show your children how relationships work. But she didn’t ask me…

So it’s my tale of bittersweet Saturday. Maybe it’s the rain bringing it out of me. It’s just so hard when you are happy and sad at the same time.