Imagin me wearing stirrup stockings with this dress and kitten heel pumps ... yep, how 80's!

Imagin me wearing stirrup stockings with this dress and kitten heel pumps ... yep, how 80's!

Well, since I finally made it home this weekend I got a chance to find a couple more 80’s pictures … including that one picture of me in a dress that reminded me of this one … the one I wore at the Addy Awards last weekend.

It’s actually quite funny, when you think of it. Because both dresses actually are a mod dress inspired from the 60’s fashion styles. And yet … here I am wearing one dress in the 80’s and another one, some 20 years later again. Amazing how fashion styles recycle.

Anyhoo … Pretty scary that I was only 14 years old in that picture. And I seriously can’t believe my parents let me out of the house in that dress. What’s even more “scandalous” (well, at least in my eyes), is that my Mom was the one that picked this dress out. Because looking back at this picture now … it’s a pretty sexy dress for a 14 year old to wear, don’t you think?

True 80's Fashion ...

True 80's Fashion ...

But I remember the occasion at which I wore this dress for, which was a family friend’s 18th Birthday/Cotillion. It was during the summer before starting high school and I remember feeling quite self-conscious in the outfit. Which is probably why I can recall how socially “awkward” I felt that night.

And I realized this past weekend how some things never change. Hubby & I had some time to spare before heading over to my in-law’s house to celebrate my nephew’s 13th birthday. So we headed to the local mall just to walk about. (It was such crappy weather all weekend long, that doing anything outside was useless …)

Anyway, as we were there I headed into the local Sep.hora to look at some body lotion that a co-worker recommended to moisturize skin, but not leave it all moist and clammy especially when in the midst of a hot flash*. Now, I’ve never been inside a Sep.hora before; the reason behind it pretty obvious to anyone who knows me. I’m just simply not into make-up and dressing up.

A Bonus 80's Shot for y'all

A Bonus 80's Shot for y'all

I mean, I’ll dress up … when the occasion calls for it, I clean up quite nicely … but on an everyday basis? I’m the type of gal that’s more comfortable in a pair of jeans and a tshirt. And coming from a company where we could wear jeans daily to a company that requires leadership to dress business casual every day … well, that’s been a challenge.

So getting back to Sep.hora, I figured that while I was there I’d get some lip gloss to moisturize my lips … and maybe add a little color to it. Except I couldn’t believe how many choices were out there and I simply became overwhelmed. I mean seriously … all I wanted was a “leeetle” plum-rose color to my lips and what I saw was 50 zillion different varieties of plum or raspberry. I ended up just walking out of there with nothing.

But going back to the “some things never change” bit … I’m just not a “girly” girl and I never had been. I was the girl that climbed trees and ran her bike through muddy trails. I was the same girl who loved walking through puddles at school (seriously … whenever it rained, there would be this huge puddle in the middle of the parking lot that I believe I named “Lake St. Vincent”). I was that pre-teen (or “tweenager,” as they’re now called) that still loved to stay up and watch the movies at slumber parties rather than play dress-up or put on make-up.

For that, I still believe it’s because I never had that consistent female “bond” with another girl … a sister, or a mentor that could coach me through some of those things. And I still believe it’s because I was that first-generation Filipino-American; my parents not quite familiar with what typical American things that pre-teens (or even teenagers) do.

This pic was taken after one of my "modeling" classes I took. I think this is the class they taught me how to put on makeup ... ha!

This pic was taken after one of my "modeling" classes I took. I think this is the class they taught me how to put on makeup ... ha!

I give my parents credit though. They did the best that they could do. And they, particularly my mom, did try to encourage me to do things that most teens might do (within reason, of course). One of them was signing me up for modeling classes after I turned 16. Now, I must be honest … this would have been something I would totally wanted to do at the age of 13 or 14. But by 16, my personality was such that doing anything that surrounded using your “looks” to get ahead with anything was something I was SO against. (Helloooo …. New Wave/Goth chick, here!) But I faithfully went; partly out of obligation, as my Mom shelled out a lot of money for these classes. And partly out of sheer curiosity. Because, the girls that were in my class … they were the antithesis of who I was.

And what did I learn from these classes? Posture (which still sucks), poise and grace (which doesn’t work with my two left feet), and that I look best in “Summer Colors” when it comes to clothes and makeup. I think that last thing is the only lasting impression from that class … because I realized recently (after years of simply wearing black and/or white) is that I do like to dress myself in those “Summer Colors.”

Not that it matters too much anymore … but sometimes I wonder how I come across to other people, looking the way that I do. Given that I tend to wear my hair pulled back in a ponytail (or even piggy tails … not. kidding. you.) and I am one for sacrificing fashion for comfort, I think people think that I’m young and immature. (Which I can be … ) But after talking to me for any length of time, these same people tend to realize that I am older and more mature than they originally thought. That I’m smart and intelligent. That I’m knowledgeable in certain areas. But that’s only after they get to know me. And probably after they see how much grey hair I actually have.

In any case, going into that Sep.hora brought me straight back to those days of self-consciousness. And back to such an awkward phase in my life.

But enough of looks and awkwardness and fashion and lack of make-up. Let’s talk about how much fun I had being back home this weekend. We celebrated my nephew’s 13th birthday on Saturday and I still cannot believe he’s officially a teenager now (well, really he’ll be one officially on the 12th …) by having dinner at a local restaurant and then heading over my in-laws afterwards for birthday cake. From the moment he saw us, my nephew didn’t want to leave our side. And as I know those moments are going to start to be few and far in between, I relished every moment of his closeness. I also got to see my niece for the first time since December and I can’t believe how much bigger she’s gotten. She’s now 6 months old and her personality has definitely started to develop. My favorite moment of that night was this following video.

This video was taken while my SIL and I were “video chatting” in iChat on our laptops. We were both in the dining room facing directly across from each other. And when my nephew sat down to chat with me, he took his baby sister with him who, of course, was fascinated by seeing me (and herself) on the computer screen. I wish we started recording it sooner, because the first few times were priceless … but this video is still awesome. She (and my nephew, of course) is such a cutie!!

And Sunday, I was supposed to meet up with a couple of grade school friends for brunch. Unfortunately, since the weather’s been sucking a$$ right now I think we’ve all come down with some sort of sinus thingy; one of my friends worse than myself and my other friend. It would have been great to see them both, as I haven’t seen them since … like, forever … but we’re going to reschedule for the end of this month when I should be back in town to help Hubby move. 🙂

Instead, Sunday was spent going for dim sum with my parents. It was nice to sit and talk with them; and I think I genuinely surprised them by making the time to see them during this weekend home. The truth is, I would have made the time anyway … I just didn’t have a chance to call them until I got into town.

And while at that restaurant, I ran into one of my best friends from Nursing School. He’s now working as a professor for a local University and we’ve recently caught up in Face.book. But nothing beats actually seeing him and hugging him in person. We managed to make plans to catch up next time he comes into my “neck of the woods.” Can’t wait for that.

And now … about 6 hours from now, I’ll be boarding the train back to the City. Another weekend home gone so quickly. This being the second time I’ve been back to Detroit since moving, I realize how much I miss parts of this area. I miss all the shops and the ability to jump in my car and find parking anywhere. I miss how much cheaper going out to eat and/or seeing movies are. I miss seeing Sabrina on a daily basis. But the thing I miss the most? Yep, my family.

But the good thing is … we’re never that far away by email or phone. And not even by physical distance.

Yay family!


* Nope, not having hot flashes so much anymore. But when walking the distance I do from the train to my office building every morning … I do tend to work up a sweat. It usually is worse whenever I take a shower in the morning (and therefore putting body lotion on at that time) … Anyway, I’m sure this was more information that y’all needed to know.

My Hubby, My Hiro

Not to be completely cheesy here, but I’ve always believed that my Hubby is my own personal, honest-to-G*d hero. I’m sure part of it is because I met my Hubby during my sophomore year in high school and were friends first before starting to date the summer before starting college. And I’m not saying these things to put him high up on a pedestal. Simply put … he is my best friend and because of that, I place all my trust in him.

One of Hubby & My Favorite Telly Shows

One of Hubby & My Favorite Telly Shows

That song … the one by Enrique Iglesias … came out just before my laparotomy. This was the big surgery where I’d get my bikini c-section scar without the baby to show for it. The surgery to do some major clearing out of the endometriosis that was thought to be the reason I couldn’t get pregnant. (Little did I know then that it was also a combination of my “tricked out” hormones thanks to PCOS. Oh, how hindsight is always 20/20 … grrr.) And even though I had two previous laparascopies beforehand, the thought of this surgery somehow scared the living daylights out of me.

But it was that song, “Hero” that seemed to pacify my nerves. Perhaps it was because that particular song came on during one of the many tearful moments spent prior to the surgery. When Hubby held my hand while wiping my tears off my cheek with his other hand. All while Enrique would sing about kissing away my pain. And standing by me forever. So yes, to this day every time I hear that chorus, I think of that particular moment.

Okay … so really, this wasn’t supposed to be all serious here. What I was actually getting at was how Hubby & I have loved watching the TV show “Heroes.” When we first saw previews of the series two years prior, we both knew this was a show we wanted to watch. I mean, really … we’re talking about two people that have traveled as far as San Diego for Hubby’s love of comics! So to have a TV show based on poeple with “special powers”? Yeah, totally up our alley.

"Heroes" character, Hiro Nakamura

“Heroes” character, Hiro Nakamura

For those of you that have never seen the series, one of the major characters is an Asian with the power to “bend” time. Of all things, his name is “Hiro,” which is pronounces just like the word “hero.”

While Hiro’s power is cool, the thing that has made him our favorite character is who he is as a person. In the beginning, Hiro is this typical Japanese character who works in a boring office setting feeling as if he’s destined for greater things. When he learns about his power, he immediately relates it to his best friend, Ando as having special abilities just like in one of his favorite comic book series, X-Men. Among a series of events, Hiro and Ando find out that their “lives” are being depicted in a comic book written by another person with special powers. By reading this comic , he comes to the conclusion that it is destiny to use his powers for good. And throughout the past two seasons, Hiro and Ando have managed to get into difficult situations but have always managed to come out of the scrapes together.

My Hubby, My Hiro

My Hubby, My Hiro … Like the Spidey tee he’s wearing?

So, I’m sure you’ve probably figured out why I’m giving you this whole schpiel. First, the “Hero” song. Then the TV show “Heroes.” And finally the Asian character on the same show, “Hiro.”

Obviously, this all relates back to Hubby and how he is literally my Hiro. Let’s just say that not only are there character similarities between Hiro and Hubby. Well … see for yourself. Don’t you think Hubby could kinda pass for Hiro too?

Seriously though. Seeing Hiro’s character reminds me of some of the reasons I love Hubby. The Asian thing. The sense of responsibility to do what’s right. Even the whole comic book lover thing. (Yes, I’m serious!) But what gets me the most is the like Hiro, Hubby has this incredible loyalty to those he cares for the most. And that despite everything that we’ve been through together , he has managed to stand by me forever. And every day, he continues to take my breath away.

Have a … Wha?!

As if I wanna see THIS during my favorite time of the month ...

As if I wanna see THIS during my "favorite" time of the month ...

Someone needs to shoot (and kill) the Marketing Department / Ad Agency for Always. Seriously.

Whoever the freakin’ frack came up with the slogan “Have a happy period” obviously:

  1. Never had seriously heavy crampy “can’t take a sh*t” periods (yes, waaay too much TMI), and
  2. Never had difficulty procreating.

With that said … it’s time for me to crawl back into bed and resurface once bloating and exhaustion subside.

Shades of Turquoise

Besides catching a movie on Friday night and going to the Lion’s game today, I’ve not been out of the house much this weekend. Truth be told, I had piles of laundry to do and a house that (still) needs a lot of polishing up. But really, the reason we spent most of the weekend at home was:

  1. The weather’s been incredibly crappy outside. It has been raining, what seems to be non-stop, since Friday night. And …
  2. I’ve been sitting in front of my computer working on a special secret project (details forthcoming in a later post).

In fact, I’m still working on said project while doing a load of laundry and writing this post. Talk about multi-tasking …

Another hand-knit Hat & Booties gift set

Another hand-knit Hat & Booties gift set to mail ...

Anyway, the combination of such yucky weather and listening to nice, jazzy music (read: Sade, EBTG, Julia Fordham, etc) has got me feeling a little melancholy. Not the waves of depression that I felt last week (and the week before). Just an overall sense of cheerlessness (is that even a word?!).

I’m sure part of the reason is because we just got word this past Friday of yet another joyful delivery into this world. Our good friends in Oregon welcomed their son, Matthew Elliot this past Thursday … and he looks absolutely adorable. Believe me, I couldn’t be more happy for the two of them. And yet …

As if having two birth announcements within two weeks was’t enough to throw me over the edge … the return of the missing punctuation mark (read: period) from months of Lupron Therapy certainly did.

After I had stopped the injections back in mid-June, I thought that maybe the magic of Lupron might just have “jump-started” my female bits.* And because I also expected that my cycle would return by mid-August and it was already nearing mid-September … part of me thought maybe … just maybe … I could have finally gotten knocked up.

But obviously Mother Nature (and God) once again had other plans.

Hence the shades of green and blue I’ve been emoting for the past few weeks. Because of that, I’ve decided that turquoise is probably my new favorite color. A nice brilliant bluish-green color that reflects my mood.

The most recent place I’ve seen such a beautiful shade of turquoise was the lakes in Canada’s Banff National Park. Now if you’re familiar with this Canadian National Park, you’ll know that it’s located within the Canadian Rockies. The bodies of water within this park are primarily formed by the melting of glaciers. And the brilliant hue of turquoise comes from the mixture of glacier-made lake water and glacial rock flour (rock sediment that has been ground by the movement of a glacier).

Beautiful Turquoise Moraine Lake in Canada's Banff Nat'l Park

Beautiful Turquoise Moraine Lake in Canada's Banff National Park

Yes. It’s the perfect color for how I’m feeling. Green with envy for what I want, mixed with blue for the sadness that comes with what I don’t have. Glacial for those cold emotions I’ve had for others, mixed with rocky sediment (sentiment?) for the way my relationships with others have been lately.

The fact is, I’m still reeling from the events of these past weeks. And it seems like every time I try to float to the top to catch my breath … yet another event happens that pushes me back under water.

So forgive me for once again, being downcast. I am trying to shake this feeling of sorrow. And one day, hopefully sooner than later, these shades of turquoise will fade.

* As Lupron would while using it short term prior to an IVF cycle, or even “plain old” medicated-cycles, for that matter.

Heinz 57

Well, I admit it. I failed at NaComLeavMo. I was doing so well the first two weeks … oh, who am I kidding? I failed the minute I set foot in Orlando in the beginning of the month. But it’s not for lack of wanting to do so. Honestly. It’s just been a horrifically busy month, both personally and professionally.

Work has been work. My normal assignment has been abnormally insane. Normally, this time of year hospitalizations around our area tend to slow down. More people are on vacation and are therefore not around to be hospitalized; less people schedule elective surgeries around this time of year. But for some reason, we’ve seen an incredible rise in our caseloads.

Add that to the fact that the workgroup I’ve been on is now on super-rush mode … all in efforts to make sure that we have at least 90% of our projects done by mid-July. And at that time we get to present our work to not only the Executive staff for our department, but to the big wig Board Members in mid-August. Yikes.

And then there’s the personal life. Ack. Where to begin?! Well, since the beginning of this month, I have now traveled out of town for three of the five weekends in June. First Orlando. Then Chicago. And this weekend? Calgary, Alberta. More specifically Canmore, Alberta. That’s right, Mrs. Spit … I’m actually in your neck of the continent. And if I could … I’d be delivering Lord Stanley’s Cup to your doorstep. At least for a lookey-see.

Hubby & I have no particular reason to be out here for the week in the Canadian Rockies, other than to take in the absolutely beautiful scenery. My parents are part of a timeshare program and asked if we wanted to tag along. And of course we said yes. Free lodging and all we had to do is pitch in for groceries and buy airline tickets? How could we resist? That and the fact that I have a cousin that currently lives out this way and haven’t seen, like, in forever. Plus she and her Hubby just had a baby boy last September and this will be the first time I get to meet him. I am truly excited to meet her little one, as he just seems to be the most adorable baby. At least in all the pictures I’ve seen of him.

What more should I tell you about my personal life lately? Hmmm … I turn a big whopping thirty-six on the first Sunday in July. I’m still trying to put the feelers out on exactly how I feel about being yet another year older. Part of me is trying to be incredibly optimistic about it. You know, be happy that I’ve made it through another year. And can I actually believe how much I’ve changed for the better over the past year? Yeah … yada yada yada. And truly, I am grateful for all that I’ve done since July 6th of last year … all the friends I’ve made online and all the moments I’ve broken out of my infertility shell and stopped feeling so alone.

But the other part of me feels like I’m physically falling apart. Yes, I’m done with the Lupron (praise be all the fruitless goddesses!), which should help temper the fiery demon I call endometriosis. That’s the good part of my health. The bad part is that I have horrible blood pressure control (despite being on two different drugs to lower my blood pressure). And have, for over the past year, been finding myself incredibly exhausted and fatigued all the time. Of course none of this has anything to do with the fact that I’ve been, probably for the past ten years, incredibly stressed out.

These are the concerns that I brought up to my new primary doctor, whom I saw for the first time yesterday morning. I decided that I needed to “break up” with my old primary doc, who I’ve been seeing for years because, quite frankly … I just need a change. I needed another person’s opinion on all the issues I’ve had. And so far, I’m liking her. But of course, I think I would like anyone who can be empathetic towards a blubberring idiot who fell apart when she asked whether or not I had kids.

I’m sure I’m making too big of a deal over this birthday. And even though I’m trying very hard not to focus on the whole childless aspect of it all, certain things just seem to pop up. Like the adorable 3 month-old sitting across the aisle on the plane ride here. Or the parents at the airport with the child who was obviously adopted from China.

But the best one was the commercial I heard on the radio to work the other day. It was for the Ch.evy HH2. And it talked about how busy this 36 year old woman was. How she ran around every morning going to the gym for weight training. And then meetings across town. And to the yoga studio afterwards for some cardio. And all while taking care of her new baby.

Ouch. Nothing like emphasizing to me how different I am from the rest of the population.

But right now … while on vacation … I’m going to focus on enjoying life. And relaxing. Because at the rate I’m going with my hypertension … I may just have a stroke before I turn 40. Yikes.

I will try to post again later on and tell you just how HIGH my blood pressure went at the doctor’s office … and how incredibly stressed I was this morning before we flew out. And maybe this week I’ll be getting around to posting some comments on other people’s blogs that I’ve been wanting to do for the past few weeks. Like KC – I seriously wish I could give you a huge hug right now. And Sara – when can I come and keep you company for a day? Or Kara – who I’ve been meaning to contact about my trip to SD at the end of July. And many many more of you … that I wish I could pick up the phone or IM you to tell you that I’m thinking of you.

And now … since my body is still in Eastern Standard Time … I’m going to crash. Even though the clock here in Canmore says it’s only 11 pm. Good night, y’all.

Dawn of Summer

It’s Sunday Morning around 7:30 am. Except with the time difference, it feels like an hour later.

Yesterday, Hubby & I made an impromptu trip to Chicago. Initially we were supposed to go with my parents to visit Dr. Bro & Dr. SIL, but instead we went alone. Last minute, we were booking a hotel room so that we wouldn’t have to bother the busy docs so much.

Imagine our suprise when we got into our hotel room and saw a view of Lake Michigan. It. Was. Spectacular. And to top it off, we scored a corner room which just happened to be the best view of Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park. I’ve been to Chi-town many times in my life, but have never had the opportunity to have such an incredible view of Lake Michigan.

You see, at the last minute the cheapest room we could find within the downtown area was at the Congress Plaza Hotel. And even then, it was a little on the pricier side than what we would have like to spend. But, oh was the view definitely worth it. Especially at around 4:30-ish when I specifically set the alarm to watch the sun rise.

It was a thrilling moment this morning, looking over Lake Michigan’s horizon and anticipating the sunrise. Watching the sky turn different shades of a pastel-like rainbow as I waited patiently for the sun to make his (her?) appearance seemed to be very symbolic of my life at this exact moment. At least I hope it is.

Last Monday, I had a follow-up appointment with my GYN to go over the current treatment I’ve been receiving for endometriosis. Yes, I’m talking about that God-awful drug called Lupron. After reviewing the ultrasound results from my last date with the US tech, my GYN gave me the option of continuing on Lupron for one more month (to make it a total of 6 months) or stop it after receiving the Month Five dose on that visit. Guess which one I chose?! Uh-huhn … one last shot in the rear, and I was skipping out of that office knowing that I no longer had to endure the side effects after this month.

And after this month, I’m looking at the end of yet another dark period in my life. Hopefully this means no more awful headaches. Or no more of those d*mn hot flashes. But most of all? Hopefully no more of that rainbow of emotions from extreme happiness to anger in a flash of a second. And hopefully no more tears brought on suddenly by a tidal wave of sadness or of feeling completely overwhelmed by something as simple as getting up for the day.

I’m literally hoping it’s the dawn of a new day in this period in my life. And seeing as yesterday was the Summer Soltice, otherwise known as the first full day of summer, I’m hopeful that I will find the inner strength in me … the power of the sun, if you will … to climb out of the horizon of darkness of and into the light of a new day.

How appropriate, because two weeks from today, I will be celebrating yet another year of life that I’ve gotten through. And this birthday, I want to celebrate the fact that I was born and not focus on the fact that I will still be childless at the age of 36.


And now pics from our impromptu Chi-town Trip

Loopy Ron

Heh. The title of this post makes me think of Ron Weasley, Harry Potter’s best friend in the popular series. Woops … there I go again, getting off subject!

Recently someone asked me if Lupron is seriously as bad-a$$ as I keep making it out to be. And whether the side effects have gotten better with time. I’m sure I’ve pretty much painted a nasty picture of how it’s like to be on it, especially with all the blob (oops, meant to type blog ) posts I’ve written on it … but I figured I would share this with the rest of us IF-ers or Endo-babes out there.

I wish I could tell you that being on Lupron gets better with time. If I had to be completely honest, I would say absolutely not.

I still get those d*mn hot flashes. I pretty much expect to get them about 3 times every hour, lasting about 5-10 minutes at a time. I swear, it feels like I have enough heat in me to generate power for a third world country! They’re no longer that bad at night for me … but that was probably solved by stripping down to a tank top and undies for pajamas and by having that clip-on fan blowing directly on me. But despite that, it still hasn’t stopped me from getting up at least once or twice in the middle of the night … grrr. So you could probably add sleep deprivation to the list of side effects!

As for the headaches … they’re still there. But I do find that the more I keep myself hydrated, the less frequent I get the headaches. So, I’m trying ot make it a point to keep myself hydrated. Of course, the more I drink the more I sweat it off with those hot flashes. For me personally, I’d rather deal with the hotflashes than deal with with those horrible headaches …

But the thing that affects me the most is the range of emotions I’ve experienced since being on it. I’m either really static (no emotion at all) or extremely happy and passionate about something or sad and totally withdrawn from everything. No in between. And because I’ve been really stressed lately because of work … I think I’ve been bouncing literally back and forth between being passionately happy and completely deflated. And, let me tell you … that gets pretty frickin’ exhausting.

However, the one thing that has been good about it (yes, there is actually a plus side to it), is that I haven’t had any severe pelvic or abdominal cramping / pain . And I haven’t had any extremely nasty visits from Aunt Flo. But that of course, is because Lupron is supposed leave Aunt Flo waiting at the train station. Which, for someone who’s got some pretty nasty endometriosis, is an absolutely wonderful thing.

So while I’m aggrevated to be on this loopy medication … I know “the end” results (reducing the symptoms of endometriosis) more than justifies “the means” … it’s just “the means” is one h*ll of a b*tchy ride

Swimming the Breaststroke *updated*

For those of you that don’t know, TMI is an acronym for “Too Much Information.” So … I’m warning you now, if you don’t wanna read about women stuff, it’s best that you click off this page now .

two_flowersHere … check out this post if you’d rather not read on.

Hum dee dum dum … Dum dee doo dah …

Okay. Fair warning. Here goes.

I have gained weight. And it’s all because of that damn Lupron. And how, may you ask that I know this without having stepped on a scale (because I refuse to do so)? Well, besides the obvious tighter fitting clothes and the ring on my finger feeling a little tighter … Well, my b**bies have gotten a little larger.

And I know I’ve gained a sufficient amount of weight when these tatas have “bloomed.” Because they’re the absolute last place that fills out when I gain weight. (And sadly, they’re always the first thing to go, when I lose the weight … dang-nabbit!) And even though I may be a little more heavier-set than the typical Asian American woman, I was never graced with a “hearty set.” So, when Naughty Hubby snapped a picture of them during a recent dress-uppity event … the rather revealing cleavage that stared back at me confirmed that I had, indeed, gained a significant amount of weight.

To make things worse, Hubby & I are heading out of town next Thursday for a mini-vaca … a chance to get away for a spell. We’re heading down to Orlando to spend time with Hubby’s cousins just to have some fun. Yes, we’ll be heading to Dis.neywor.ld and Univ.ersal Studios. No, I’m not so much bothered about it being the center of the universe for all things kid-related. (Actually, I’m quite looking forward to being a big kid for the weekend!)

Anyway, one of those days we’re planning on heading to the beach for the day. Which, of course requires a bathing suit. And well, last time I wore my two-piece was on our cruise in November. Pre-Lupron. Pre-weight gain. So yeah … won’t be looking so hot in my two-piece these days. And I wouldn’t look so hot in a one-piece either, based on the little non-pregnant belly I’ve got going on.

But thank G*d for the invention called the tankini. A two-piece that, if the appropriate tank top piece is found can hide that non-pregnant pudge I’ve got going on … and can still show off a little of the recently gained “assets.” (Might as well flaunt them while I’ve got them, right?) Pair it with a matching swim skirt, and it might just hide the “a$$”-et you don’t want to flaunt.

So off to Hudson’s Marshall Fields Macy*s to look for a tasteful and age-appropriate tankini. I head directly to the sportswear department, where I assumed that they might put out all the seasonal summer wear. No luck. Then I walk over to the active wear area, thinking that perhaps they put it with all the brand name exercise crap. Yep, still no luck. Finally, I stop an employee who directed me up to the second floor. “It’s right by the restaurant. Next to the maternity wear.”

Excuse me? Did I hear that right? Next to maternity wear? Who the H*LL had the brilliant idea to put bathing suits next to maternity clothes?! But sure enough, there they were. One and two-piece bathing suits looking quite smug next to those fashionable maternity clothes.

I’m honestly not sure what horrified me more. Knowing that I was going to have to try on bathing suits to help … ahem … appropriately distribute the extra weight I’ve gained. Or having to walk past all those very stylish maternity clothes that I know I will never have the chance to wear.

For an infertile … nonetheless one that has probably gained weight from all them extra hormones pumping through our systems … that is just cruel and unusual punishment!

Alas, I managed to find a decent tankini/swim skirt set that “accentuated the positive” (heartier hooters) and “eliminated the negative” (okay, so there was no way to completely eliminate the larger booty). And just as soon as the sales woman wrapped up my purchase, you know d*mn well I booked out of there as fast as I could.

Ugh … I suppose that I should know by now that bigger bosoms means that I should get off my lazy (not to mention large) a$$ and start working out again.

Once again … D*mn Lupron!!


Oops. I forgot to add the disclaimer. Nope … that ain’t my body in that picture. (If I were only that thin …) And I also forgot to mention that yes … I realize how horrifying it must be for those that are pregnant to have to look at skinny two-piece suits.

But I do stand by what I said … “Who the H*LL had the brilliant idea to put bathing suits next to maternity clothes?!” and “That is just cruel and unusual punishment!”

Okay … back to your usual blog-surfing … 🙂

Na Com Leav … wha?!

Okay, for those of you that aren’t aware … Sunday the 25th was the start of “National Comment Leaving Month” or NaComLeavMo … and yes, that’s what that little graphic with the party hat to the right of this post is for.

For those of you who haven’t read Mel’s post, NaComLeavMo is the month where we are encouraged to step out of our “lurker” mode and actually comment on other people’s blogs. And in return, leave a comment on the blog of someone that commented on yours. The idea is to open up discussion amongst all of us in IF / MC blogland and beyond.

Today being day three of this month, I’m finding it hard to just “stumble” onto a fellow blogger on Mel’s list without having to do a lot of back-reading before I feel I can … a-hem … “intelligently” respond. (Oh, who am I kidding … right?!) And then I stumbled on Rachel‘s latest blog post, who thought it might be a great idea to do a quick recap of ourselves and our story so that other’s might not have to be “clicking around” so much.

So Rachel … I’m taking your lead and doing the same thing. (By the way, my favorite ice cream flavor is Jamocha Almond Fudge from BR … or Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz from B & J!!)

Told you I was an Island Girl at Heart

Hmm … where to begin …

Three things are a big part of who I am in life. I’m Asian, I’m Catholic (although of questionable degree), and I’m Infertile. Yep … that’s right Infertile with a capital “I”. But let’s start off with the Asian bit first.

I’m a second-generation Filipino American; meaning my parents were born in the Philippines while my brother (aka “Dr. Bro”) and I were born here. While I know many other people can relate to having parents that were born in another country … being of Asian descent, it’s a little harder to “blend” in, if you catch my drift. I’m always going to look different than most people in a room. Or I’m always going to be lumped in or mistaken for another “nationality” (whether it be any pick of Asian countries or Native American or even Guatemalan … Not. Kidding. You.) But the biggest part of being Filipino American is that you are literally torn between a very traditional culture where authority is never questioned and the American culture where everything and anything can be challenged and questioned … and it’s encouraged. How does a strong-willed, stubborn female learn to live with these clashes in culture and belief? Well … peruse through my older entries and you might find a few.

As for the Catholic part of me … I don’t want you to think that I’m super-spiritual or anything. Because, in reality … I’m not. But, having been through 12 years of Catholic School … how can religion not play a part in my every day life? Even though it’s mostly about feeling guilty. You know … the “I’m not a Mom yet because I must have not prayed enough” or “I must have done something horribly wrong for God to punish me by not gracing me with child.” That kind of guilt. And no … I’m not (as) angry at God for where I am in life. Truth be told … I know that I’ve been “given” certain gifts from up above (my Hubby being the biggest gift of all); I just honestly have to have faith … not only in God, but in myself as to know when I am strong enough to do the right things in my life. And that’s the part of my Catholicism and spirituality that I can most relate to. Trust me … it’s taken me being 18 years of being out of high school to figure that one out.

I’m Infertile. Oh yeah … this is the main reason I started this blog. There had to be a way for this Catholic Filipino-American to let out all the repressed emotions I’ve let build up over the past ten years. Yep. That’s right. Ten. Long. Years. In brief, I married my high school/college sweetheart two years after graduating from college. We started TTC just over a year after that with (obviously) no success. After another year of “giving it more time,” I finally approached my OB-Gyn who put me on almost a year of Clomid. Yeah … the nurse in me should have questioned that … but the Filipino in me respected authority (see what I mean?). After that didn’t work, it was on to a laparotomy to clear out some nasty endometriosis followed by six months of evil pharmaceutical devil incarnate Lupron therapy. Then followed about 7 months of medicated cycles and the first episode of deep depression along with a 4 month “break” from treatment. And then the big guns … IVF. A one-time cycle that failed and brought about another episode of deep depression, followed closely by repression. Until one fateful day in November 2006 when my SIL (who just remarried 5 months prior and already has a middle-school age child from her first marriage) announced she was pregnant. As if that didn’t devastate me enough, Liam was born prematurely and with some “imperfections” which just made me feel like my feelings of jealousy and anger caused ill-will to this innocent child. And so … in the midst of my SIL’s pregnancy with Liam and his unfortunate passing 4 months later, I started this blog. And it has helped me deal with these emotions in ways that I didn’t think possible. And the fact that I’ve found such wonderful support out here in blogland … it just means the world to me. I just wish I would have found it sooner!

So those are the biggest things I can share with you in this one lengthy post. Hope you decide to stick around and read on. And then you can follow along with what happens in the next stage of my Mommyhood dream. I’m hoping to gather that source of faith and strength to fumble through the adoption process … as one failed IVF was enough for me emotionally and financially. Oh and you can see what other evil and emotionally ridden things I do as I finish up another six months of Lupron therapy for that bitch of a friend I call endometriosis. Oh … and did I mention my SIL is pregnant again … and due in early September?

Goodness … if you’ve stuck around reading this entry to the end … you might as well just add me to your Google Reader! 🙂

(Oh and hey … while you’re at it, check out my other blog!)

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