My Cousin, The Graduate
Yesterday, I stepped back into time. Back to 1990 when I was just a wee 17 year old graduating from high school. It was exciting to think about what my future held. I would be heading off to college in less than four months; living “on my own” in my dorm room, experiencing some freedom. Finally.
I mean, after all … I had just finished 12 years of Catholic school. Yes … twelve years. Don’t get me wrong … I am very appreciative of the education I was lucky to receive. And I truly do admire all the sacrifices my parents made to send both Dr. Bro and I to a private school. But to say that I left high school just a little naive about the world, is an understatement. It’s no wonder I turned out the way I do, feeling like I need to break out of my shell at all times, yet sensing the guilt that would inevitably follow.
So where am I going with this? Well, yesterday my youngest cousin just graduated from high school. The same Catholic high school that I graduated from eighteen years ago. Except these graduates were so much younger looking than I remember being. And they looked pretty wet behind the ears, too. But they were also full of energy and enthusiasm and so open and willing to experience everything in life. They were so ready to break out of their cocoon. And honestly … I couldn’t be more excited for them. For my cousin.
Because their life is just truly beginning. And what I wouldn’t do to be able to feel like that again …
Congratulations, Dear Cousin!
I am so very proud of all your accomplishments!
My Furbaby Can Vote! ~100th Post~
So my oldest furbaby, Rain turned 18 years old this past month. At least we think so.
Dr. Brother, future-Hubby & I found her 18 years ago this upcoming weekend after arriving back home late one night from London, Ontario. It was my grandmother’s birthday and all of the cousins made it a point to be there for her party. It was a crappy night to be driving; horrible thunder and lightning with heavy downpours all the way home. And as we pulled into the driveway, all of us were anxious to just get inside the house.
But amongst all that noisy thunder, Dr. Brother (who was still in undergrad and also home for the summer, as was I) kept hearing this sad, long howl. He was the one that said to check under the cars because it might be a cat that was hiding under the engines. He just wanted to make sure that the poor animal wouldn’t die in the morning when he went to start his car.
Yes, I know I already posted this, but it’s such a d*mn cute picture!!
So Dr. Bro, future-Hubby & I went about trying to find exactly where this pitiful meow was coming from. And as we checked under the bushes in our front yard, there lay a little grey and white furball, all shivery and shaky.
We picked her up, dried her off and placed her in a box with some soft towels. We gave her a little milk to drink and let her sleep. Unfortunately, we had to keep her in the garage that evening because Dad was still in London, and we couldn’t very well take the kitten in without asking his permission.
The next morning, we took her back inside the house and showed her to Dad. Yup … as I suspected, he couldn’t say no to the little furball.
And that’s how Rain became part of our family. At first she was my little furball sister. But as I moved into my own apartment after graduation, she packed her bags to come live with me and has been my furbaby ever since.
So Happy Birthday, Dear Rain! We’re so glad that you are still with us … even though you’ve gotten kookier in your “old age.” We love you very very much …
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And now … to mark my 100th Post …
I figured we could do something fun in honor of Rain’s 18th birthday.
Unfortunately, I was not able to properly add this poll to my blog (d*mn fixed width columns!), so you’ll have to click HERE to get to it …
Have fun!!
Wasting Grey Matter
So it’s yet another grey rainy day here in Suburban Detroit … fitting for Mother’s Day, if you ask me. Hubby & I have found our way to our favorite coffee house where we can finally read the paper and relax as we want. And yes … I managed to make my way through Mother’s Day lunch with the families without having to make a “trip” to the restroom to cry in private. Although … I do confess, I wanted to whack the hostess who wished me a “Happy Mother’s Day” and tried to shove a rose in my hand, even after I told her that I was not a mother. Grrr …
Anyway, since it’s a grey day, I figured it would be a great day to finally waste a little grey matter on answering a meme that Io sent to me earlier this past week. So here goes …
4 Things I Did Ten Years Ago (1998):
- Had surgery to correct a herniated disc in my lower back after a patient fell on me. That would signal the end of my “Floor Nurse” career and would eventually end up working for the hospital’s Case Management Department … signaling the beginning of my second career in Nursing Case Management … Or “Skirt Nursing,” as one of the ICU nurses referred to my job … meaning I don’t have to get my hands all dirty and in to every aspect of direct patient care. Well, I certaining DO get my hands dirty … it’s just a different kind of dirt.
- Watched the Red Wings win the second of two consecutive Stanley Cup Championships and made it a point to call in sick at work just so I could go to the Championship Parade in Downtown Detroit. Tried to make sure that no news cameras were around us either! LOL!
The 1998 Stanley Cup Champions … See Konstantinov in the Wheelchair?
- Helped my SIL and our nephew (who was 2 and a half at that time) move in to our house after Tyler’s dipsh*t dad decided he wanted to get a divorce. They lived with us for just under a year while my SIL finished up getting her Bachelors. It was good thing to have them there with us, as we totally adored and loved Tyler (and still do!) and wanted to make sure he had some sort of stability while going through such a difficult transition. The only downside to it all was that Bobby & I were just starting to really focus on our marriage and starting our family … which made it just a little hard and frustrating when having other people living with us. In other words, not enough private time for some spontaneous nookie.
- In May, I had my yearly GYN appointment and finally told my Doc that I was having issues with trying to get pregnant. No blood tests were ordered at that time, which should have been my first clue. Was told to take my temp every morning and chart and if I wasn’t pregnant in 6 months, to make an appointment. In October, I started the first of many Clomid challenges (because obviously I wasn’t pregnant by then). I was optimistic at that time, thinking that I’d only have to do a few months of this and I’d be on my way to starting my happy family. How I wish I could go back and change things …
4 Things I Did Five Years Ago (2003):
- The first half of the year found me heading back and forth to the first of two RE’s I’ve been to. I’d spend the first two weeks of my cycles constantly at his office having blood sucked out of me. And another week of poking myself in my belly or thigh. And then waiting two weeks only to be utterly devastated and disappointed with the BFN (that would be “big fat negative” as in pregnancy test, for those that aren’t well-versed in IF-speak) which ultimately followed.
- At the same time, I was working in leadership for the same company that I work for now. I supervised about 10 RN’s and had overall an excellent group of nurses that all worked together seamlessly. I couldn’t have asked for a better team to supervisor. And then … we (as in the other supervisor I worked closely with) made the mistake of hiring a person who just couldn’t get the hang of the job nor could she get the hang of working with a computer. I remember thinking … “For f*ck’s sake! It’s the 21st century! Somewhere down the line you must have at least worked on a typewriter or even a computer in the hospital!!” So … unfortunately, I had to let her go. It wasn’t the most pleasant feeling in the world, knowing that I was the one responsible for making her unemployed. Now … imagine having to try to train this person and ultimately having to let her go while going through stim cycles. Yeah … definitely NOT pleasant.
- In July, I turned 31. While it’s not a milestone birthday to mark, I clearly remember this one because it’s when I decided to finally take a break from IF treatments. That weekend, we headed up to Toronto to attend, of all things, the baby shower of my husband’s cousin … whom BP (that would be “Before Pregnancy”) I felt very close to. I can clearly remember the drive up, feeling very dejected and when I think of it now, seriously depressed to the point where I couldn’t find the will to live. And I can also remember how difficult it was to hear Hubby’s extended family (whom I otherwise love dearly) sing me “Happy Birthday” when frankly, all I wanted to do was crawl up into a corner and wither away. Yeah. That bad. And the Monday after we got home from Toronto, I sought professional help and Hubby & I decided not to think about what our next step should be until the end of summer.
- And so that next step was taken in October, when Hubby & I were referred to another RE. This is the one that ultimately diagnosed me with mild PCOS and started me on Metformin. And eventually was the one who did my one and only IVF cycle. I truly liked this RE; and if we had decided to do another IVF cycle, I would have stayed with him. … So overall, I’d have to say that 2003 totally sucked …
4 Things I Did Yesterday:
- Woke up. D*mn … that was a miracle, considering how hellish my work week was. Let’s put it this way, last Friday I was so upset that if anyone would have asked me how I was, I would have burst in to tears. You know that feeling of wanting and knowing that you’re doing the right thing, but yet you feel like at every turn you’re hitting your head up against a bric.k wa.ll? Yeah … that’s exactly how I felt. But then I thought about the whole “Bric.k Wa.ll” analogy by Ra.ndy Pa.usch and contemplated exactly how I was going to climb over this obstacle. Still contemplating …
- Took Hubby to dentist appointment and while he was there, ran to two different banks and the pharmacy to pick up a couple of our prescriptions.
- Headed to the local mall to buy … da da da dum … Mother’s Day gifts for our Moms. And of course, Hubby’s sister (Tyler’s mom); but THAT gift was really from our “furbabies” to their “Auntie J” By the way … Does anybody find it strange that the majority of Sister-to-Sister Mother’s Day cards are more like “Sister with Kids” -to- “Another Sister with Kids” cards?! Yeah … personally I find that annoying. And yet another reason for an infertile to find fault with this holiday.
J’s oldest “niece,” Rain
- Finished writing the post I started Friday night about the happenstances at the Resolve meeting AND also wrote my Mother’s Day “Woe-is-me” post. Except when I went to try to post both of them … W.ordpress decided to do some server maintenance. Dang-nabbit!
4 Shows I Love To Watch:
Okay, I confess that I do watch a lot of television during the fall and winter season. But if I had to pick my Top 4 from after the Writers’ Strike, they would have to be …
- “Dancing with the Stars” … Yeah, I know … but hey, at least it’s not all a popularity contest like, let’s say … Am.erican I.dol
- “Project Runway” … Yep, in this reality show, these contestants actually have to show talent and are actually being judged by professionals in the business. Definitely not a popularity contest here!
- “Grey’s Anatomy” … Uh huh. I know. Not as good as when it first came on air. But definitely not as bad as it was just before the strike. Ugh … totally hated the whole George and Izzie plot.
- “Smallville” … The comic book, super hero-loving geek in me is definitely something that I picked up from all the years of being with my Husband. (Okay, so maybe it started earlier, while watching the “Superfriends” cartoon every Saturday morning.) So watching a show that follows the story of Superman before he actually becomes Superman is definitely something I enjoy. Plus, seeing Tom Welling on my TV every week isn’t such a bad thing either …
4 Things I Love To Do:
- Write. Ever since I started regularly posting to my blog, I’ve found myself mentally composing thoughts in my head. Not all of them make it to my computer screen, but many times they end up fermenting in my brain for a few days or weeks before they come out in some sort of manner. Besides, keeping up on this has kept me from bottling up my emotions like I used to. So. F*cking. Therapeutic.
- Take random pictures. Last year for “Motherless Day” (that’s the day before Mother’s Day, at least that’s what I’ve named it), Hubby got me a newer, sleeker, easier to work digital cam that I have taken to keeping in my purse at all times. I never know when I will come across something that I might perceive as unique. Or cool. Or beautiful. And now that W.ordpress has a new template design for photoblogging, I’ve started yet another blog.
- Hanging out at our local coffee house. This gives me a chance to collect my thoughts and get them down on “My Lappie” (nickname for my beautiful MacBook). I get waaay too distracted when I’m at home, so sitting here and taking in the people and atmosphere gets my creative juices flowing.
Hubby at one of our fave spots
- Read, Sleep, and Eat. In no particular order, I’ve condensed Io’s top three into my last thing that I love to do. (Is that cheating?) Because seriously, without them I am totally not able to do the other three things above.
Alrighty then. I think I’ve wasted enough brain power for the afternoon. Well, actually now it’s early evening … and it’s still raining. Yuck.
Hmm … who to tag, who to tag. I think this time around I’ll ask Sheils and Hope548 to to this next!
THAT Day
Uh huh. Tomorrow is THAT day. The day that celebrates the love a person has for his or her mother. Where we can show our love and gratitude for the women who gave birth to us and raised us. A chance for kids to nationally recognize all that their mothers have done for them.
And it’s a day that makes any woman suffering through infertility want to run and hide under the covers for the next 24 hours. Because it’s yet another reminder that what we want most in life, we just can’t have.
You would think that after ten years of childless Mother’s Days the pain would lessen after a while. In many aspects, the hurt isn’t as bad as it was … say, the first Mother’s Day after my failed IVF. Or last year, when my SIL’s pregnancy with Liam ripped those IF wounds (which I managed to stifle for years) wide open.
Of course there are those other days where the pain rears its head once again. The grand announcement of a family member’s or friend’s pregnancy. The random baby shower invitation in the mail for one of your mother’s friend’s daughter. The conversations with FWC (Friends with children) that inevitably turn towards what their kids are doing these days.
What I have learned over the past ten years is to anticipate this pain to surface on days like tomorrow, where the whole continent recognizes the woman that brought them into the world. And the woman who raised them and provided them with love and protection. And I expect to feel this kind of pain for days, sometime weeks, after learning the news of any new pregnancy. Because yet again, it’s another pregnancy that I’ll never have.
I sense this pain will never ever go away. However, over the past year I have learned to temper it. I know now when to say “No” to baby showers. Or to simply walk away when pregnancy talk gets to be too much. I know where to hide (a bathroom, the spare guest room, my car) when I need to steal a moment to cry.
So tomorrow, after celebrating the love and appreciation Hubby & I have for our mothers, I will want to climb back into bed and not get out from under the covers until Monday morning. But I won’t. Because I want to be able to say that I got through this tough day with my head held high and my renewed spirit towards adoption intact.
But if for some reason, Hubby notices I’m “missing” for a short period of thim … I may have to tell him to check the restaurant restroom. In the private stall. Where I just might be crying.
I may be stronger than I was last year at this time. But I’m not THAT strong.
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My infertility resides in my heart as an old friend. I do not hear from it for weeks at a time, and then, a moment, a thought, a baby announcement or some such thing, and I will feel the tug — maybe even be sad or shed a few tears. And I think, “There’s my old friend.” It will always be a part of me ….
— Barbara Eck Menning, founder of Resolve