Apron Strings for Emily

Roller Coaster

Emily — Sat, 17 Mar 2007 18:24:00 +0000

It's hard to describe this type of roller coaster ride that I felt like I've been on the past ten years. I spend most of my time trying to forget that I'm on it, hoping that if I do actually forget, then the tracks of the roller coaster will eventually bring me to the top of a hill and just stay at a plateau for a while. (Perhaps maybe then I'd be able to get off this ride.) But it seems like every time I hit a peak, I end up free-falling back down at an uncontrollable speed.

And after what seems like a million of free-fall moments, I've learned that the best defense against feeling like shit was to pretend that I was okay. (That's the reason behind me trying to forget that I'm on this stupid roller coaster to begin with.) I've also learned recently that I need to break myself of that habit of ignoring what I'm feeling and learn to acknowledge these emotions in order to get over them and move on. The task of breaking that habit is proving to be more difficult than I thought. As for how I feel now ... almost three weeks after the initial disappointment? I'm still sad but I'm no longer free-falling. I'm at a plateau. But that plateau is more towards the bottom of the hill instead of the top. I'm hoping with more effort on my part, that I'll start feeling that roller coaster start pulling me back up again.

Dancing with the Stars

Emily — Wed, 28 Mar 2007 02:19:00 +0000

Okay, I have to admit it. I'm a sucker for any shows or movies that involve dancing. Dirty Dancing? Loved it. No one puts Baby in a corner. Hell, I even liked the bad sequel, Dirty Dancing Havana Nights. Bye Bye Birdie? Yup. Gotta love Janet Leigh and Dick Van Dyke. I even love the recent Gap commercial that's on right now with Claire Danes and Patrick Wilson where they're dancing to that Broadway Tune. And of course, my all time favorite, Strictly Ballroom. The list can go on and on. There's just something about dancing that's to romantic and so graceful and so controlled that I love.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmKacuH_xOU]

So, it's no suprise that I'm totally enjoying the Dancing With the Stars series. I've watched it on and off over the past few seasons, but watching the first two episodes of this season has already got me hooked. It certainly does help that it's got "Cliff" from Cheers (John Ratzenberger), Heather Mills (ex-Mrs. Paul McCartney) with her prosthetic leg, and Apollo Ohno (yum). But seriously? It's really about the dancing. I found myself smiling every time one of the contestants came out; transfixed on their movements. It looks like so much fun and yet so much work. I want to be able to do that someday. Of course I've got two left feet (okay, the Filipina in me might have more like one and a quarter left feet - I have SOME rhythm, after all) so I'd never be Ballroom Competition-worthy. Also, there's that "thing" about having to let the man take lead - I'm never good at giving up control. Yet, something about it just makes me want to put on those dance shoes (no, not them Doc Marten boots -- this isn't City Club, after all) and grab the hubby and have him lead me in a quick-step or a fox-trot. I'll never be Ginger Rogers, nor will my husband be Fred Astaire. But the feeling I have on the occasions where my husband does grab me and lead me in a slow dance around our living room (and I do relinquish that control) ... it leaves my head spinning, my heart thumping, and my face smiling ... just like it did tonite while watching Dancing With the Stars.

The Start of Summer

Emily — Fri, 29 Jun 2007 04:14:00 +0000

It's coming up on the Fourth of July, which for most of us, marks the middle of summer. I love the 4th for many reasons; one of which is that it means my birthday is coming up. When I was little, I used to think that all the fireworks and sparklers and picnics were meant specifically to celebrate my birthday. Imagine my disappointment when I realized it wasn't! Still, it's a fun holiday and it's meant to be a mid-summer celebration. But before we can get to mid-summer, there's always another holiday that I enjoy immensely. That would be Memorial Day. For me, that holiday marks the beginning of the summer season. When you are once again allowed to wear white shoes and white pants. When walking around in shorts doesn't seem so odd. Even (gag) the weekend where most people try to finish planting their spring/summer garden. (Unfortunately, I didn't inherit my mom's green thumb.)

But while others might be gardening or grilling outside for the first "summer" holiday weekend, my husband and I tend to be elsewhere. We, being Detroiter's through and through, make it a yearly event to head downtown to Hart Plaza every day during that weekend. That's because it's the Movement Festival: a weekend celebration of all things electronic music; specifically techno. The festival has had many reincarnations over the 7 years it's been in existence (political, economical issues, etc), but the main core reason the festival continues to draw the crowds (whether it's a free or paid event) still exists. It's a weekend of great (insert your choice of electronica music -ie- techno, house, drum n' bass, etc) music. From four stages to choose from, not to mention the afterparties, it's a weekend of pure "get your groove on" fun. And even though it gets harder and harder every year to be there all day and every day or be out late every night for the afterparties, my hubby and I try to make an effort to go. Not only because we love this type of music, but also because it helps celebrate the history Detroit plays in electronic music. Go Detroit!

Portland, OR Trip

Emily — Fri, 13 Jul 2007 00:47:00 +0000

So hubby and I took a trip out west over the Fourth of July weekend. Our friend, Rich who had moved out there last year, got married on that Friday after the 4th, which just happened to coincide with my birthday. Let me tell you, it was an awesome birthday for me! First of all, we flew out on Wednesday, which was the actual holiday day. We pretty much assumed would be a hectic traveling day, but it truly wasn’t. In fact, the airports were just about empty and all the staff (including those pesky security officers) was friendly. Literally, nothing could have gone smoother. Once we landed in Portland, we hopped into our rental car and headed east towards Hood River, where Rich lives. We were given specific instructions to take the historic scenic highway in order to appreciate all the beauty of the Columbia Gorge.

Now, being from the Detroit area, everything is pretty much flatlands. Strip malls, gas stations, and concrete. The further away from the city, you’ll see farmlands and beautiful greenery, but it’s still primarily flatlands (unless you travel further north). So to look out your window and be consumed by all this lush greenery and (gasp!) mountains, you can’t help but be in awe. (Side bar: I kept teasing Rich whenever he told us he just lived “uphill” from downtown Hood River, that nothing is just uphill around here. Everything is “up-mountain.”)

But back to the scenic highway route. After taking Exit 22 off of I-84, we headed “uphill” toward Vista House, which is an art-deco building literally perched on top of a cliff. From that view, you can see almost endlessly down the gorge in either direction.

Continuing to head east on the historic highway, we ended up at our first waterfall, LaTourell. You easily can see the falls off of the road, but by taking a short walk down the path, you can actually get a better, up close view the fall. Hubby and I were daring enough to step right up to the falls. Let me tell you, it was 90+ degrees outside, but the closer you got the the falls, the force of the falls and the mist made it feel like it was in the 50’s!

Next stop on our trip was Wahkeena Falls. From the road, you could some nice shots of the bottom of the falls where it cascades down onto some rocks. However, the half-mile trek up to the bridge provides you with some other spectacular views of the falls.

Once again, hubby and I were daring enough to get up as close as we could to the falls. In fact, if you travel on the right side of the falls, you’ll eventually stumble onto a shallow cave where you can get a unique view of the falls.

Our last stop on our scenic journey to Hood River was at Multnomah Falls; which I just found out is the second tallest year-round waterfall in the US at 620 ft in height (for those geeks like me that are interested, Yosemite Falls is the tallest).

Legend has it that a Native American tribe was infected with a deadly disease and was in danger of dying. The daughter of the chief went to the top of a cliff and was told by a Great Spirit that to stop the epidemic, she would have to throw herself off the cliff and sacrifice herself. She did this and died. The chief wept bitterly and cried out to the Great Spirit to give him a sign if this sacrifice was not in vain. At that moment, water began to fall from the top of the cliff, forming Multnomah Falls. The legend also says that under the right conditions, you can see the daughter's face in the waterfall. In fact, we were able to see a printed picture of her face in the falls. Unfortunately, we weren’t lucky enough to capture her image on our camera, nor were we able to spot her face. After that, we made our way to Hood River and checked into our hotel. After a quick dinner, we headed to the downtown area to meet Rich and other out-of-town guests at a local pub where we were able to enjoy the Hood River fireworks out in the parking lot. It was quite a long traveling day, but certainly beautiful and calming … a great way to have started off our vacation.

The next day, hubby and I headed back to Portland to check out it’s downtown area. This was the first of three consecutive days of us checking out Portland. It’s such a nice downtown area, especially the Pearl District where most of the cool shops are. In that area, hubby and I found what we would call heaven … Powell’s City of Books, the largest used and new bookstore in the world, which occupies an entire city block and is divided into nine color-coded rooms that houses over 3,500 different sections. I swear, we could just live there … especially since there’s an in-store café to provide us sustenance. Now, if we could only find a shower … Needless to say, we hit that store two of the three days we headed downtown.

Other cool things we checked out down there was the the Pioneer Place mall (where we got our first glimpse of the iPhone. Sigh …), the only Doc Martens retail store in the country, and Platinum Records (where hubby finally got new DJ headphones and some hard-to-find Buzzin’ Fly vinyl).

While getting lost trying to find Platinum Records, we happened to stumble on the Portland Street Market. Finding little jewels like that is just so much fun. Oh, and we ate at a Todai restaurant (which, for some reason, we always seem to find in any major city we’ve traveled to lately. Why, oh, why won’t they open one in Detroit?!). We met a really cool Filipina waitress there and got to talking about the area. In fact, every place we went to downtown, the people were always nice and friendly. Oh, and did I fail to mention? No sales tax in Portland. That made for easy (not to mention, fun) shopping! So, really, what I’m saying here kids, is that downtown Portland is a fun place to be.

Another one of our days was spent making the trek to the Pacific coast. From Hood River, the coast is about 2.5 hours away. For those of you that know me, getting to put my feet in the sand of any major body of water is a must. It’s definitely the Cancer in me that loves the water. Anyway, everyone we talked to recommended heading to Cannon Beach which is just south of Astoria, OR. As I continued to look at the map along the way, I kept thinking that Astoria, OR was significant in some movie or another but I couldn’t remember exactly which movie. And then we stepped onto the beach. I took one look at the rock formation off of the coast called “Haystack Rock” and said one word to hubby: “Goonies!” Yep, one of my favorite movies of all times was filmed both on that beach and in Astoria, OR. That was definitely a thrill for me.

But seriously, the real reason we were in Portland, OR was for Rich and Melissa’s wedding. All the festivities leading up to the wedding were so much fun. First of all, there was the above-mentioned fireworks. Then the next day was the rehearsal dinner at the Cathedral Ridge Winery. I’ve never seen grapevines up close before so that was definitely a thrill. Not to mention the beautiful landscape with Mt. Hood as the backdrop. Oh, and the later it got, the louder the frogs became (think “Bud-Weis-Er”). It was actually quite fun watching the “boys” trying to catch frogs and then show them to the “girls.” I’m such a tomboy, that unlike the other “girls” I was actually excited to see the cute little green creatures.

And finally, the wedding itself was beautiful. Set inside St. Mary’s Catholic Church, it was just awesome to see one of our closest friends (who we thought might never get married) say “I do” to such a great person. One great highlight of the ceremony was hearing Sinead O’Conner’s voice (a recording, of course … not the real Sinead) singing “Make Me A Channel of Your Peace.” I just can’t seem to get the image of her tearing up a picture of the Pope in that famous Saturday Night Live episode. Another highlight was after the mass when the bridal car, Rich’s prized (and I mean PRIZED) Audi TT, pulled up and it was decked out in “Just Married” decorations. If I only had my camera handy to catch his appalled look. The reception was in the ballroom and on the patio at the beautiful Columbia Gorge Hotel, which is set on a cliff overlooking the Columbia River. Everything about the reception was wonderful; the food, the music, the company. As Rich was friends with hubby back in high school and college, it was fun for me to get to know some of hubby’s classmates and to visit with some friends and family that we hadn’t seen in a very long time. Rich even “DJ’d” his own reception (read: iTunes playlist). Despite all of us harassing him about the “last minute” nature of putting everything together (including a slideshow of pictures to go along with the first dance, father/daughter and mother/son dance as well as ones of a bunch of friends and family that continuously played throughout the night), Rich did an excellent job. My favorites were definitely the instrumental Pixies and Duran Duran songs he played during dinner. That, and all the excellent 80’s songs we danced to most of the evening. Oh, and those mojitos, too! I have to say, Rich and Melissa threw an incredible party! Unfortunately, I don’t have too many pictures from the wedding as I relied on hubby’s better digital cam to take the shots. And, well hubby won’t be letting me post them any time soon until the graphic designer in him touches up all the photos. Grrr …

So, after 5 days of nonstop fun, it was time for us to fly back to Detroit. I can’t tell you how difficult it is for me now to look outside and see flatlands once again. Perhaps one day (possibly in the near future?) we’ll move out west. If you’d like to see more pics from our trip, click on the album below:

Portland Trip 2007

Harry Potter Mania

Emily — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 19:30:00 +0000

Okay, I fully admit it. I love Harry Potter. No, not in that sick sense where I would have a crush on a fictional character (although ask me later about my unhealthy obsession over Captain Jack Sparrow - aka Johnny Depp), but in the sense that I love the series of books by JK Rowling. I have been an avid reader all my life. I thank my parents, particularly my mom, for this habit. I remember both my parents reading to my brother and me when we were little; always bedtime stories. Later, it would be the weekly Saturday trip to the local library where, every summer until high school, I would take part in their summer reading program. I can remember being dragged to the mall (before I liked to go shopping) and begging my parents to leave me at the bookstore (B. Dalton's, remember them?) so I could read books while my mom or dad went shopping. I would spend my allowance on books and, eventually when I got my first job (babysitting), I would spend my earnings on books as well.

One of my earliest and fondest childhood memories was making my mom read "Fox in Socks" by Dr. Seuss. If you have ever read that book, it is quite the tongue-twister of a book. The little devil on my shoulder used to make my mom read it faster and faster each time, which would inevitably make her mix up her words. I fully appreciate the fact that she humored me now, as the last time I read the book was to my nephew on one of his sleepovers at our house quite a few years back. It was that same exact book, tattered and masking-taped together, that I read while he was cuddled up to me in bed. I love that book as much as I love the memories it invokes. Why do I love reading so much? I am an admitted and full-fledged daydreamer. I have, what my parents probably said to me over and over again while growing up, an "overactive imagination." I love reading stories and "seeing" in my mind the scene that is described to me in words or imagining exactly how a conversation occurs in the context of the book. I love the way a good book evokes a range of emotions, from angry to sad to happy to surprised and of being able to go through those emotions with every turn of a page. And when that last page is turned, I love the satisfaction of closing the back cover of the book and taking in the whole story while going through my mind what I loved (or hated -- or both) about it. Now, I love movies as well. However, if given the choice of movies and books, I'd probably choose to read. While I fully appreciate the art behind storytelling in making movies, there is still nothing like imagining it in my head. That's why whenever I've seen a movie that's been adapted from a book, I will always (okay, nine times out of ten) will inevitably say "The book was MUCH better than the movie!" There are just some things, like plays on words or abstract descriptions, that just can't be translated literally into a film. And that is one of the things (if not, THE biggest thing) that I enjoy about reading. Hubby and I started reading Harry Potter in 2000 at the recommendation of an older co-worker, who just happened to work in the Michigan Film Office. She knew that the two of us enjoyed reading and told us that the writing and the universe created in the series was really good. When hubby told me about her suggestion, my first thought was, "A children's book? Why she would recommend a children's book?" Nevertheless, we picked up a copy of the first book at the local Border's store and, while driving around on an errand one Saturday, hubby opened to the first page (I was driving, by the way) and read aloud: "Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much." I was hooked. We spent the rest of the weekend reading the book aloud; each reading a chapter at each turn. Both of us chuckled whenever we were described something particularly funny, excited when we read about the first quidditch game, sad whenever we were told about Harry's parents, and incredibly amazed by the turn of events towards the end of the book. We went on to read the next book and part of the third book together. Being the impatient one in the relationship, I went ahead and read book four that was just published that year in 2000. With the following books, I forced hubby to stand in line with me to get them on the days they were released (July 2003 in Border's in Chicago and July 2005 at Meijer's in Rochester Hills). After watching the "Goblet of Fire" movie in November 2005 (book five), hubby finally went back to reading the series; partly because we enjoyed to movie so much, but also because other (younger) cousins and I kept driving him insane about the the ending of book six and speculations about what would happen in book seven which was to be the last book in the series. So it was this past Friday that we found ourselves once again in line (at Meijer's in Royal Oak) before midnight to pick up "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows." Part of me wanted to rush home after purchasing the book and stay up all night reading as much as I can. The other part of me didn't want to start it, because I just didn't want to face the end of the series I've grown to love so much. Ultimately it was the third part of me that won out in the end: The one that was too frickin' tired to stay up after having had such a long day. (Hey, I'm no longer that spring chicken that can stay up all night ... I need my "beauty" sleep, after all.) Instead it was the next morning that hubby opened up the book and again read me that first line: "The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the narrow, moonlit lane."

And once again, I'm hooked. And as we are both now caught up with the Harry Potter series, we're reading this book aloud. In many ways, reading it to each other invokes those same memories I have of constantly reading while I was growing up. To me, it's such a fitting way to end the story of Harry Potter, a boy who is now all grown up, in the same way we began reading his story. Together.

Erasu(red)

Emily — Thu, 02 Aug 2007 18:30:00 +0000

The last time I saw Erasure was my senior year in high school. I can remember that entire day clearly. It was unfortunately the night after my Godmother (Ninang) past away. I hadn't cried yet; I was still in denial. I was close to her, and particularly her son who was the same age as I was. During her sickness (she died of ovarian cancer), we spent a lot of time with her and those people that were close to her. After all, these were the Filipino families that I spent most of my childhood growing up with. It certainly helped they were the families that my parents would spend their weekends either playing in bowling leagues or otherwise gambling through the night playing mahjong. Us kids would spend those long nights either playing in the arcade room at the bowling alley or entertaining ourselves by playing board games, listening to records (yes, records), or even making random prank phone calls a la-Bart Simpson-style. So when we finally got the news of my Godmother's passing, I didn't know how to feel. This was, after all, the first time I had experience the death of someone really close to me. Since I was a senior in high school (and therefore "old enough to make my own decisions"), I had every intention of still going to the Erasure concert as I had already paid for the ticket, and let's face it ... I knew every single word of their songs. My Mom, however, had other ideas. She felt that I owed it to my "God-brother" and Ninong (Godfather) to be there with them. That feeling of being torn between responsibility and escape was ultimately what broke me down into tears over my Ninang's death.

I can clearly remember secluding myself in my bedroom closet and crying. At first it was over the argument that my mom and I had. Then it was about feeling guilty about letting my "Godbrother" and Ninong down. And finally it was about the loss I felt over my Ninang's death. I couldn't understand why I couldn't stop crying, why I suddenly felt so alone and so lost for any other emotion other than sadness. I must have stayed in my bedroom closet for what seemed like hours just crying and eventually napping on and off. Ultimately (and I'm not sure if she just felt bad for me), my Mom let me make the decision as to what I wanted to do. And well, as you already know from the first line of this entry, I chose to go to the concert. I have a feeling my Ninang was looking after me that night. It's as if she knew I needed the distraction of this concert to let me experience a little bit of happiness in the coming days. My friends had picked me up in the midst of what ended up being one of the biggest snow-storms that year. We ultimately made it to the Masonic Temple in Detroit (after our friend made quite a few unintentional 180-degree spinouts along the freeway) over an hour later than when the concert should have started. Lucky for us, Erasure also just arrived and still had to get the stage set up. An hour after arriving, Vince Clarke and Andy Bell treated us to a great performance, allowing me to forget for a moment how sad I was actually feeling inside. I sang my little heart out that night and was able to laugh at all the silly flamboyant outfits that Andy Bell would put on. And afterwards, as we made our way to Greektown for a late-night Pizzapapalis fix, my friends and I recounted all the adventures that we had that night. I didn't end up getting home until after 2 am that night; well past my curfew. But the next morning, nothing was said. Again, I'd like to think that my Ninang had something to do with that as well.

Now, why am I recounting such a memory at this time? Well, it's because this past Tuesday I had the opportunity to see Erasure again, more than 17 years since that winter evening back in high school. Come to think of it now, I'm more than twice the age I was back during that initial concert. (Yikes!) It's also brought back memories of singing and harmonizing to Erasure songs on road trips to Chicago. And it brings back yet another memory of driving to Ann Arbor in the midst of another snowstorm just to visit hubby in college. Anyway, the concert this past week was such a great time. It gave me the opportunity to sing all the classic Erasure songs that I used to harmonize back in high school and dance that "old-skool new-wave sway." It's also given me an opportunity to think of my Ninang again and remember her fondly ... the way I do every time I sing one of their songs. Click on album below to view more pictures from the concert:

Erasure Concert

Ya Ya Sisterhood

Emily — Mon, 06 Aug 2007 00:43:00 +0000

Last week, I had the opportunity to go up to northern lower Michigan (oxymoron, I know ... but Michigander's would understand) to spend time with a few co-worker's at one of their weekend houses. Her place is situated just west of Grayling right on the Manistee River. This is the third year in a row that I've went and it's always such a wonderful time. Despite the fact that I work with these people day in and day out and that I do feel pretty close to them , every year I find myself initially hesitant to go. Part of it is because I'm extremely close with my husband and, although he understands the need for "girly time," I hate to be doing fun things without him. The other part is that sometimes I think that I'm not as in touch with my "female ya-ya sisterhood" side as most women are.

I grew up as the only daughter in my family; the youngest of two with my brother being a couple years older than me. It was overall a sheltered environment; having been a first-generation Filipino-American and having gone through 12 years of Catholic school. Based on that bit of history, I feel many times that I grew up in two different worlds. There was the world of school; where most of my friends were caucasian and maybe never encountered another person of a different culture before. For example, I can recall being called "My Little Shogun" by one of my friend's parents, as that Made-For-TV movie was quite popular when I was in grade school. How wrong is that? First of all, wrong ethnicity. Second of all, Shogun is typically reserved for a male military rank in the Japanese army. And being only 9 of 10 years of age at that time, how does one respond to that? The other world was the Filipino Family and Friends world. These are the other Filipino kids that I'd hang out with whenever Filipino social events would be thrust upon us. They were probably the only other people that could relate to how it was like being the only "Asian" in our class, but none of them went to the same school as I did. Therefore, how could we fully support each other in social awkwardness if we didn't even run in the same social circles outside of these Filipino events?

Having lived in the two separate worlds has made it difficult to get close to someone ... anyone. I think maybe that's the reason that I feel very guarded when meeting people for the first time. Heck, it's probably the reason I don't feel comfortable telling people my deepest darkest fears. It would've been nice though, to have that type of person growing up. To experience what it would be like to be really close to another female person. To experience some sort of sisterhood. I'd say the closest I ever felt to feeling that sisterhood was growing up with my three female cousins (all sisters) in London, Ontario. There are many summers and holiday breaks that I can recall staying at each other's houses for weeks at a time. During those times we would do just about everything together. But the older I got, the more difficult it was to maintain such a closeness. Life and distance just got in the way. We just couldn't spend as much time together as we used to, especially once we graduated from high school. Now the only time we tend to talk to one another is at big family events like weddings. But whenever I see the three of them together, I can't help but feel just a tad jealous that, despite their ages and the distance between them all, they still manage to remain close. They still manage to have that bond of sisterhood.

So it's that lack of "sisterhood experience" that initally made me hesitant to head up north with my female co-workers. Would I be socially awkward in situations? Would I commit a social faux pas? Would I snore too loudly or make other embarrassing sounds of bodily function? And because I've been emotionally bursting at the seams for the past few years, would one conversation about how infertility has affected my life throw me into embarrassing sobs? Well, it turns out I did turn into a blubbering idiot that weekend. And even though I was initially embarrassed by my uncontrollable sobs or my rants and raves about work issues, I eventually felt more and more relaxed around them. I think there will always be a part of me that feels that I missed out on the female-bonding experience, especially while growing up. However, making that trip "up north" and talking to these girls has made me feel more aware that I do have them opportunity to experience sisterhood ... I just got to take that leap. To see more photos of the weekend, click below:

Girl's Weekend

Fear and Loathing in R.O.

Emily — Tue, 07 Aug 2007 03:34:00 +0000

My nephew, Liam, is in the Neonatal Intensive Care unit (NICU). He was born prematurely at 31 weeks on May 19th and has been in the NICU since. It was known that Liam would have some congenital anomalies by the time my sister-in-law was at her 18th to 20th week of her pregnancy; they suspected an omphalocele and a cleft lip/palate during an ultrasound. What they didn’t expect was that he would be born so early and that he would still be in the NICU today. The good news is that rather than having a cleft palate, he only has a cleft lip which will be corrected once he is medically stable. He also had a surgical repair of the omphalocele within five days of his birth. The bad news is that after 2 and a half months, Liam is still having difficulty breathing on his own. They have tried to wean him off the ventilator at different times, but ultimately he has had to go back on. They just recently did some testing (bronchoscope and esophagram) which has come back inconclusive and they are currently trying to keep him off the vent as I type. The entire family has got Liam in our prayers and we pray that Liam, the little fighter that he is, stays strong.

I can’t deny that I have very mixed feelings about Liam. Not about who he is, because I do love him with all my heart and soul. Nor about his condition, which I know is very hard both physically and emotionally for all involved. No, my mixed feelings have to do with my struggle with infertility. Because it has been over 10 years since my husband and I have been trying to start our own family, my sister-in-law’s pregnancy and Liam’s subsequent birth has brought out what I think is the worse in me.

His birth was such a contrast to his older brother, Tyler’s birth. Tyler is now 11 years old and when he was just an infant, I was just beginning my role as a new wife. Children were always on our mind, and we knew that we wanted to start our family within a year of our wedding. So I have such fond memories of Tyler as an infant, spending as much time as I could with him. And now with Liam, it’s much more difficult to spend the same amount of time with him that I did with his brother. First of all, he is still in the NICU which makes holding and playing with him very difficulty. And second, emotionally it’s just very hard for me to connect with him or with his parents for that matter.

You would think that me being a registered nurse, I should have the capacity to take care of both Liam and his parents’ needs as well as help them navigate through such a difficult time despite my own personal struggles. And I can tell you honestly; I have always tried to put my feelings and struggles behind those that I felt needed it more than I did. Except now, I’m in desperate need of some of that compassion that I feel I have given to others for myself. Before receiving the news of my sister-in-law’s pregnancy, I thought I had dealt rather decently with my infertility. Sure, it still stung a bit when I received word of other friends and extended family members who were pregnant, but overall I was pretty happy for them. Upon hearing this news, however, I was absolutely devastated. Here I spent the past ten years trying to get pregnant and have endured disappointment after disappointment and my sister-in-law, who just recently remarried 5 months prior to the big announcement, is pregnant with her second child.

I can’t say that jealousy had absolutely nothing to do with my major meltdown after hearing of the news, but it certainly wasn’t the primary reason for it. The word “failure” comes to mind, along with the words “inadequate” and “unworthy.” Those are the words that I thought of when I thought about myself. And they still do ring true even now two and a half months after Liam’s birth. I have honestly wanted to spend more time with Liam and “bond” with him the way I did with his brother, to be there for him when he needs the most strength. But something just keeps me from making that next step. It’s my innate fear that I’m going to release some of this anger over my own issues onto this child … or that my stinky attitude is just going to cause more harm than good to his parents and any other family members. And quite honestly, I don’t think I have enough strength right now to put one foot in front of the other and be strong for myself, let alone for anyone else. How bad of an Aunt am I that I feel these things about a child; a helpless baby? How horrible am I that I can’t set aside my own struggles to help out another family member in need? How undeserving am I to be a parent if I feel these things for someone else’s child? Logically, I know I have a right to feel the things I do. I’ve learned that I haven’t dealt fully with my failed IVF attempt and that I obviously have very low self-esteem issues. What I don’t know now is how to snap out of this… to gather that strength that I’m sorely missing and make that first step towards healing myself. To see pictures of Liam and family, click on the album below:

Liam

Comic Relief

Emily — Tue, 14 Aug 2007 18:00:00 +0000

So this past weekend, hubby and a good friend of ours made a trip to Chicago. The reason we went to Chi-town is to attend the 2007 Wizard World Comic Convention (a.k.a. The Chicago Comicon). We've made this (insert "Star") trek every year for the past five years so that my favorite "fanboys" can get their fill of all things comic-related.

I usually go to the "Con" for at least one of the three days to check out what's going on. Mostly it's to check out all the latest toys, games, and movies coming out in the next year from major companies like Sony and Marvel. For hubby and our friend, it's about the hunt to find those comics or graphic novels, statues or busts or any pop-culture related toy for a decent price. For hubby, it's also about being able to participate in Heroclix tournaments.

For me ... it's all about the costumes. Where else can you see grown men in spandex bodysuits made to look like Superman or Spiderman? Some can pull it off, but the majority ... well, I give them an "A" for having the guts (literally) to dress up. The cute ones definitely are the kids; who can resist an adorable Supergirl or cool-looking Cyclops? I just wish I could have seen a dog dressed up as Yoda or a cat dressed up like Puss-in-Boots.

As luck would have it ... this year's trip wasn't strictly about Comics. While trying to find directions to the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center, I found out that the Midwest Stitches knitting convention was happening at the same time as the Comicon. Yes, definitely more up my alley. Aisle after aisle of beautiful luscious yarn, knitting "tools", and embellishments. If they could only schedule their conventions EVERY year at the same time as the Comicon ...

Well, we couldn't very well be in Chicago without heading downtown or meeting up with some friends. The goal was to head to the Virgin Megastore off of Michigan Ave and then over to Lincoln Park to meet up with our friends for dinner. So we boarded the Blue Line at Rosemont only to find out that, since service was being done on the line, we couldn't head directly downtown. Instead, we were ushered onto busses that would eventually take us to "The Loop". After finally making it to the Magnificent Mile, we were disappointed to learn that the Virgin Megastore permanently closed ... Oh, the humanity!

So then it was off to find the Red Line to take us to the Lincoln Park area. After a quick rest stop at the corner Starbucks for some intense "fanboy discussion," we met up with friends to enjoy some great sushi. And because I had to get my fix of dessert somewhere, we made a stop for some home made ice cream. Eventually, we had to find our way back to the Blue Line in order to get back to Rosemont. Unfortunately, the only way we could get back to the Blue Line from the Lincoln Park area was to take another bus. And well, after being out and about all day long in quite warm weather (it was about 94 degrees outside during the day) ... let's just say being in a pretty crowded bus was not a quite comfortable experience. Once we got back onto the Blue Line, it was smooth sailing back to our hotel.

Overall, the trip to Chi-town was so much fun. Trips around town became major adventures. Conversations about every day life became interesting discussions about philosophy. While the main reason that we make the yearly trip is to head to the Comicon, it really was more about spending time with those friends who make life interesting. To view more pics of our Chicago Adventure, click on the album below:

Chicago Comicon 2007

Cruisin' Away

Emily — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 02:45:00 +0000

This past weekend was the annual Woodward Dream Cruise weekend here in Detroit. It’s an event that combines classic cars with the 50’s and 60’s pastime of cruising. Now being a native of Detroit, I have to admit that the concept behind this event is excellent. Not only does it celebrate the history of Detroit as the Motor City, but it certainly gives the surrounding cities a nice economic boost.

The part that bothers me, though … is although the official Woodward Dream Cruise day typically falls on the third Saturday of August every year, people start cruising (or even just sitting on the side of the road) at least one week beforehand. And since I live less than a mile away from that famed Woodward Avenue (aka M-1), by the time the official event starts I am completely sick of the traffic, the noise, and the general hassle that comes with even attempting to cross Woodward.

So this year, hubby and I decided to “skip town.” At the last minute, we decided to head up to Traverse City and enjoy some well-deserved quality time together. You might think, when don’t the two of you have quality time together? No kids, no other responsibilities except for work and keeping up with our daily activities. Well for hubby and I, sometimes it’s the every day things that keep us from spending time together. Hubby commutes approximately 160 miles roundtrip at least four days a week. This means he spends about three hours of driving a day and then typically doesn’t get home until almost 7 pm every evening. Luckily, I don’t have to deal with such a commute. However, my work schedule consists of 10 hour days. This also means I don’t get home until late as well. Our evenings after work consist of eating dinner, unwinding for about an hour and then off to bed so we can get up early and start our work day again.

Anyway, we decided to leave early Saturday morning and stay overnight at the Great Wolf Lodge in Traverse City. Yes, I know … why would two adults want to spend time at a family and kids' play place? Well, let me tell you … it was FUN! We spent the afternoon playing mini-golf while waiting for our room to be ready. And then once we got settled into our room, we changed into our bathing suits and hit the water park. We splashed at each other, rode on the waterslides together, played water basketball, and relaxed in their whirlpool. Being the typical Cancer water-sign, I loved being in my element. The rest of the evening was spent wandering about town. We had dinner at a quaint Italian restaurant downtown and then headed to the local movie theatre to watch "Superbad," where we laughed our behinds off. After all the activity of the day, it’s no wonder we just crashed the minute our heads hit the pillow.

Even better that the water park adventure was our full body hour massage at the Elements Spa within the resort the next morning. (I have to add that the massage was a result of a bet that I won in regards to our trip to Chicago.) If you ever head up that way and decide to partake in a massage, make sure you ask for Theresa as she was excellent on working out the kinks in my neck, back and shoulders.

Then it was time to return home. But not without our quest to find the Wendy’s that specifically made Cherry Frosties in the midst of the Cherry Capital of the World. Any time we headed up to Traverse City, we made it a point to get one of them Frosties. But wouldn’t you know it … just like the Virgin Megastore in Chicago, the Cherry Frosty was no where to be found. Oh, the humanity …. I’d love to tell you more about our lunch at Hooter’s (which was an adventure in itself), but I suppose I should quit rambling for now. If you’d like to see more pictures, feel free to click on the album below.

Dream Cruise Getaway

Opposable

Emily — Fri, 24 Aug 2007 03:00:00 +0000

The other day at work, I had a pretty intense conversation with a fellow co-worker about loss. It started out with my congratulating her about becoming a new grandmother by way of adoption. The two of us have shared our experiences with infertility in the past; hers as it relates to her son and daughter-in-laws struggles. And mine, well I've mentioned it in previous blog entries. So when I found out that she was finally going to be a grandma, I expressed how happy I was for her and her family.

Of course the next question that inevitably came out was, "Have you guys thought of adoption?" And of course, I gave her the answer that I have given to everyone else that asked that same question. Which is ... yes, we have.

It's strange. I can remember that the subject of adoption had even come up during my Hubby and my engagement. However, it was more in the context of adding on to an already-existing family that we made all on our own. Adoption would be a way for us to expand our family; to give our son a brother or our daughter a sister. Both of us never grew up with another sibling of the same sex and, therefore, never experienced a brotherhood or a sisterhood bond. Little did we know then that adoption would be our only option to have that large family that we wanted.

We know that adoption is our only chance of starting that family. We've even been to a few adoption agencies to get an idea of what the process for an international adoption would entail. We came out of each of those agencies excited ... and completely overwhelmed. There's just so much involved in an international adoption. There's the massive amount of paperwork that needs to be completed to exact precision. There's the stressful home-study that's required by each agency. And there's the cost involved in going through each one of these processes. Not to mention the wait and the anxiety of worrying that we might not be chosen by one of the overseas adoption agencies just because the paperwork wasn't filled out right or that our dossier might not fit the profile of a couple that they would allow to adopt. Obviously, all the things that are required to go through the adoption process is do-able. Especially if hundreds of couples in a given year adopt internationally. So why aren't we diving head first into adoption? Well, first of all there is the financial aspect of it. Although it's been over three years since our failed IVF attempt, we are still struggling financially to overcome that loss. And, if this gives you any idea ... the amount it cost us to go through the IVF cycle is less than half the amount we would have to come up with to adopt internationally.

And then there's the emotional aspect of it. I can't deny this ... I'm absolutely terrified of the whole process. And a lot of it has to do with the anger I have over my infertility issues. Too many "why's." Why can't I have the family I that I always wanted? Why can other's get pregnant so easily? Why is my body failing me? Why do I have to go through an intense home-study to prove that I'm a worthy parent when there are "natural" parents out there that harm their own children? Why? Why? Why? It all has to do with loss. I feel like I've lost a part of me. I feel like I've lost the battle on having that "perfect family" that I always dreamed about. And because of that, I've lost all sense of pride in feeling like I'm a successful woman. Quite frankly, I've lost my self-esteem. My co-worker made this one comment during that discussion about loss that stuck with me. She said that she once asked a friend of hers who just lost her son in a car accident how she was feeling. Her friend described it as living with a hand after its thumb had been severed off ... the hand was still functional, but yet there was this feeling of something missing. Not only was it missing, but trying to pick things up without that opposable thumb now took twice as long and was doubly difficult. So as that comment sunk in, I related it to my own issues of loss. I'm functioning, that's for sure. It just takes me twice as long and makes things twice as difficult to get through any major life events. And that includes adoption. It's definitely something that I'm not "opposed" to doing ... in fact, as I mentioned above, I know that adoption is our next step and our only chance to start that "dream family." But right now, I just need to work through my loss ... my inability to have a child of my own ... and learn to function without my "opposable thumb."

Fairy Tales and "Happily Ever After"

Emily — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 07:33:00 +0000

The following piece is something that I wrote back on September 12, 1997. I thought it quite appropriate to post this in honor of the tenth anniversary of Princess Diana's death. I think it's pretty interesting to look back at this piece and reflect on my thoughts about marriage and life ten years prior. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Fairy Tales and "Happily Every After"

It was my first wedding anniversary on the day the Princess of Wales died. My husband and I were in bed enjoying the cable television we had installed just three days before and had planned to stay in bed all morning. As we flipped through the stations, we could not help but notice that every station seemed to be talking about Princess Diana. “Probably some corny tabloid news,” I remember joking with my husband as he continued to change the channels rapidly. Then one of the bylines caught my eye.

“Wait,” I told my husband. He stopped and read what I had seen: “The Death of Princess Diana.” We both looked at each other in disbelief, listening to the broadcaster as she told of the care accident and the attempts to revive the Princess. “This is all a big joke,” we kept trying to reassure one another. Desperate to find out if the news was true, I climbed out of bed and ran to the front door to retrieve the Sunday paper. The shocking truth hit me as I read the front page. At that moment, for reasons I couldn’t comprehend, I began to cry. My husband looked at me strangely. I think he, too, couldn’t understand why such a tragedy would make me grieve. After all, it wasn’t as if she was a close friend or family member or even an acquaintance. She was just the ex-wife of a prince and the mother of the future King of England. I followed the news faithfully that week. I flipped through the television countless times trying to obtain as much information as I could. I just couldn’t seem to get enough. My husband, busy at work, wasn’t able to keep up with me. In all honesty, I believe he just wasn’t as interested as I was. Yet, he woke up with me at 4 am on the day of the funeral and watched it with me.

It reminded me of another time, sixteen years back, when my mother woke my brother and I up at that same un-Godly hour to watch the "Wedding of the Century.” She took all the blankets from our rooms and spread them out on the floor in front of the television. My brother quickly went back to sleep. I, on the other hand, was 9 years old and was so excited to watch an actual Cinderella wedding occur. After all, how often does one get to watch some lucky girl become a princess? I watched in fascination as Lady Diana’s horse-drawn carriage traveled throughout the streets of London, anxious to see what her dress was like. My eyes widened in awe when I finally saw her walking down the aisle with such a stunning gown. “I’m going to have that same gown when I get married,” I recalled telling my mom. My mother responded jokingly, “Do you want a train as long as that, too?” I nodded my head vigorously. “And are you going to marry a prince as well?,” she asked. I lifted my head with childhood arrogance, smiled and said, “Of course!” I couldn’t wait to grow up at that time and marry my prince and live happily every after.

Of course, Diana’s fairy tale wedding did not have a happily ever after. The shy 20-year old princess seemed to only have a few moments of blissfulness, not to mention privacy, after her wedding. She literally grew up in front of the world, the center of news and gossip. And I, at whatever age I was at the time, tended to gravitate toward news of her. Ever since her wedding, I envied her and secretly dreamed of living her glamorous lifestyle. I remember other schoolmates also pretending to be her, confirming that I was not the only girl who envisioned a life “like Diana.” However, as the tabloid news exploited her throughout the years, my interest in Diana’s life began to decline. I could no longer separate fact from fiction. And, in reality, I was so busy with my own life that I could no longer fantasize of being like Princess Di. I was in college when Diana’s marriage fell apart and didn’t pay too much attention to it, as I was already romantically involved with my future husband at that time. I couldn’t hold it in my heart to be true that I could find romance while a princess’ own romance was ending. The same year Prince Charles and Princess Diana separated, my very own prince proposed to me. And finally, just one month after Diana’s divorce was finalized; I had my version of a fairy tale wedding. Regardless of all of this drama in the Princess’ life, I still dreamt that my own life would eventually read just like a fairy tale, as Diana’s once did.

But one year after my own wedding, I could no longer imagine having a life like Princess Diana. How could I celebrate my first wedding anniversary after all that had happened? For one week, I grieved for her and her children. I grieved for the loss of her “fairy tale” existence. It was strange that after all those years of following Diana’s life so closely and then stopping for a period of time that I, as well as many other women, should once again be utterly enthralled with her. My brother, whom I spoke to the night before the funeral, also voiced that same sentiment. He couldn’t understand why thousands of people could grieve over someone they hardly knew, leaving flowers at Diana’s home and standing in line to sign condolence books. My brother couldn’t comprehend the “fascination” most women had over Princess Diana. In that sense, my brother forced me to question exactly why I, myself, was grieving so much. While the news portrayed that the world was grieving the loss of the “People’s Princess” or the “Queen of Hearts,” I knew my grief felt more than just that. But during that conversation with my brother, I could not pinpoint exactly why I was grieving differently. And then came that morning that my husband sat next to me and watched Diana’s funeral. We watched Princess Di’s procession move through the streets of London, much like it did sixteen years before on the way to her wedding. This time, however, the horse-drawn carriage carried her casket adorned with flowers and topped with a card addressed to “Mummy.” We felt our hearts go out to Prince Charles and the Princes William and Harry as they walked that last mile behind the carriage to the Abbey. We held each other as I sobbed throughout Elton John’s heart-wrenching version of “Candle in the Wind.” We cheered for Diana as her brother delivered that brutally honest eulogy to the people of England and to the rest of the world. And afterwards, in my husband’s arms, I finally felt some peace.

I realized at that moment that I was grieving something that “should have been.” Diana’s life should have been longer, should have been more blissful. She should have been able to have a successful marriage, should have lived to see her son become King. She should have had that happily ever after that fairy tales were made of. But she didn’t, and instead her life ended much like a bad Shakespearean tragedy. Diana’s death made me realized that all is not a fairy tale. That even though I could dream about having a life like a princess, it would never “just happen.” Fairy tale endings needed to be earned, achieved, and worked at diligently. Then, once obtained, cherished fervently. And of course, I found out that happily ever after literally did not mean forever. It was at that moment, with my own Prince Charming sitting next to me, that I finally felt a personal closure. I remember kissing my husband at that moment, vowing to make my very own fairy tale end happily ever after.

Happy Anniversary, Hubby! It's been 11 incredibly wonderful years with you ... You're definitely my "Happily Ever After!"

International FanGeeks

Emily — Sat, 01 Sep 2007 13:30:00 +0000

After the Chicago Comicon adventure, Hubby & I decided to make the trip across the border to check out another Comic Convention. This time, it was the 2007 FanExpo at the Metro Convention Center in Toronto, Canada. Yep. You can officially call us international FanGeeks.

I initially agreed to go to this convention so that I could check out Hayden Christensen from Star Wars fame, but alas … he cancelled his engagement. But that’s okay, I was able to check out some other interesting people (not to mention costumes!) while we were there. For instance … there was the guy with the incredible “Dark Tower” tattoo on his arm. Hubby wanted me to take a picture of the tattoo instead of him (otherwise, I do admit … it would’ve sound weird if he asked another guy to take his picture). The nice guy complied by flexing his arm as I shot the picture.

Unlike the Chicago Comicon which focused a lot on the “comic realm” of pop culture, the FanExpo combined multiple elements which included the science fiction, anime, and horror genres. Also included was a ginormous gaming section, which hosted the 2007 World Series of Video Games (typically seen on ESPN “the Ocho” – just kidding, but you get my point). The nice thing about the set-up of the Toronto convention (as opposed to Chicago) was that each genre had its own separate section in which to explore. That made it much easier to explore.

Afterwards, we decided to head down to Queen Street West just to walk around. Unfortunately, most of the stores were closing for the evening but we managed to get a little shopping done. Lucky for Hubby, we knew that his favorite store would be open late. The Silver Snail was having their “End of Summer Sale” to coincide with the FanExpo. Luckily for me, I was able to get some Emily Strange tees that I haven't seen anywhere else. And yes, Hubby did get some comics and graphic novels as well. Let's just say that we ended up spending a lot of time in line at that store.

The next day, after checking out of the Strathcona Hotel, we headed to Yonge and Dundas Streets. It had been a few years since we were in Toronto, so we were surprised to see how different the area looked. Apparently, the area across from Eaton Centre is now known as Yonge-Dundas Square. For lack of better description, it reminds me of a Canadian version of NYC’s Time Square. I guess it makes sense, as I’ve always thought of Toronto as Canada’s New York City. Anyway, after snapping a few pictures of the area, it was time to head back home.

If you’d like to check out some pics of our mini-trip to Toronto (and of more interesting Comicon costumes), click on the album below:

Toronto FanExpo 2007

No "Boo-ey" Fan

Emily — Tue, 04 Sep 2007 21:57:00 +0000

Okay, let's get one thing straight. I'm absolutely bummed that Michigan lost to Appalachian State, 34 to 32. I'm really sad that this loss has ruined their chance to get a National Championship this year. But I am NOT giving up on my "boys." I mean, just because the Wolverines don't have a prayer in winning the National Title this year does not mean their season is over or a total loss. What about the Rose Bowl? What about the Big Ten title? Hubby & I were at that game and knew, as we were watching it, that the defense wasn't ready and that Chad Henne was having a pretty bad game. But we're not so much angry than we are more disappointed at Lloyd Carr and the rest of the team. Did the team think this was just going to be a "blow-off" game since Appalachian State wasn't even in the same division? I would have thought that Carr would be more proactive in enforcing that this game was to be treated like any other game; whether they were playing against a Big Ten team or not.

The next morning, Hubby and I were discussing the game. He made a comment to me that he was not a "boo-ey" fan. I immediately said to him, "Neither am I. I'm not like some of those other fairweather fans that swing back and forth, much like a 'buoy' does with the sway of the tides." Hubby laughed and said, "I really meant a 'boo-ey' fan ... you know, a fan who just boo's the team when they're not doing good." Talk about taking a more symbolic approach to it! Regardless, Hubby and I are neither "boo-ey" nor "buoy" fans. The Michigan Wolverines will always (and forever more) be our team regardless of if they win or lose. GO BLUE!

Alone?

Emily — Thu, 06 Sep 2007 22:00:00 +0000

I finally updated my profile on blogger and added some stuff under the interest section. Of course I added infertility to see how many other profiles would come up under that "interest." It's no suprise that there were 225 other people that also listed infertility. After all, isn't the statistic "1 out of 8 women" suffer from infertility? That's a whole lot of women in the world. So why is it that, despite these statistics, I still feel so alone in this journey?

Of course I have my dear Hubby. We are both going through this journey together. However, as much as he is always there for me, I know that I'm also the one in this relationship that tends to feel things more deeply. I'm the emotional one. I'm the one who tends to be over-sensitive when it comes to anything having to do with pregnancies and babies and family-oriented things. The crux of it, I know, is that I don't let people know exactly how I feel. They may get the gist of how these things affect me; most likely by my non-verbal behavior or the skillful way that I've learned to avoid any events that might involve family or kid-related things. However, I've never directly told them how I've felt.

Oh, I may have discussed my infertility with others once or twice; once to my sis-in-law while she was pregnant and maybe another time to my mom one occasion when I finally broke down and cried in front of her. But after those situations, it's almost as if my journey through infertility was just a non-issue in the grand scheme of things that were happening. In fact, the week after I had enough courage to talk to my sister-in-law about how bittersweet the news of her pregnancy was to me, her latest ultrasound and lab tests showed signs of some fetal anomalies. I mean, seriously ... where does my issue of infertility rank in the grand scheme of those type of things? But lately, I've been trying to make an effort to let others know how I feel. Call it a cleansing of some sort. This blog is definitely a means to let out my emotions. And since I've been doing this, I have started to feel a little better. I've realized in this process that I'm a better communicator when writing. And that when placed face to face with someone to describe how I'm feeling, I can't quite get the correct words out. I can't even begin to describe how uncomfortable I felt during the times I participated in an infertility support group meeting or just how difficult it was to talk to my sister-in-law during her pregnancy; and even now, after Liam's birth. So this blogging thing is a good thing. I only truly hope that this blog reaches those specific people I wish to read it and that it attracts the audience that I hope to capture. I seriously have no idea, as no one ever leaves any comments on my blog. (Not that I'm trying to fish for comments ... ) I guess I just don't know exactly where I am in this "infertility journey." I know I'm past the medical aspect of it; meaning I'm not going to submit myself to any more medications or procedures any more. I'm pretty sure the whole donor embryo aspect of it or surrogacy is not an option, as Hubby and I just aren't comfortable with that direction. That leaves adoption or living child-free. And I'm not about ready to accept the notion of child-free living.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I know adoption is our next step in starting our family. But I'm just not there yet, emotionally (not to mention financially). When I start that next step, I want feel like there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I'm doing the right thing. I don't want to feel like I'm a failure for not being able to conceive my own child. I want to have a bit of my self-esteem back so I can focus one-hundred percent on the adoption task at hand. And I want to be able to have a positive attitude, and not feel like I'm going to end up being sorely disappointed again. Because, quite frankly, I don't know how I would be able to pick myself up again if I had to go through another loss. Getting back to the whole Blogger profile thing ... As I was going through quite a handful of blogs of people that are going through or have gone through the infertility journey, I still felt alone. Most of the blogs I pulled up were people currently going through some sort of treatment; whether it was Clomid, IVF, donor embryo or even adoption. And many of them were blogs of those that had "successfully graduated" to proud parenthood. Since I already went through the Clomid and IVF route (once was enough, both financially and emotionally, thank you very much) nor am I a parent of any sort, I feel like I can't 100% relate to anyone. And I would certainly feel apprehensive about commenting on their blog entries, thinking I wouldn't be able to add any additional info or support that they don't already have.

225 people listed as having some sort of infertility and I still felt alone. How could that be? How can I not find anyone else that felt caught between stages of this infertility journey? Sure, there were a lot of the same emotions of failure and disappointment. But most of those same blogs also expressed hope. Something that I'm obviously sorely lacking right now. I really, truly want to know. Am I all by myself out here in cyberland? Are my thoughts and rants completely crazy? And while I know that Hubby will always there for me, am I doomed to experience these crazy infertility emotions alone?

Saving Face, Losing Control (Alone? Part 2)

Emily — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 19:55:00 +0000

Well, my post has been up for over a week now, and no response from anyone. Hmm ... the power of words wasn't strong enough I guess. Really, I can't complain. I'm seriously not trying to fish for comments at all. In fact, the reason I started to blog was more to get all these intense feelings and emotions out into the world. And in doing so, I do admit it feels good. So why am I still feeling alone? Well, after posting my latest ramblings last week, I happened to stumble upon an article at work that helped explain a little about why I continue to feel the way I do. And now I'm sharing this information with whoever wishes to read on.

The article discussed the reluctance of Asian-Americans to seek or use mental health services. It even goes on to cite that when Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders eventually seek professional help, the severity of their problems tend to be high, most likely because of the delay in seeking treatment until their problems reach crisis proportions. It also states that Asians are not used to meeting with strangers and discussing their problems because many of their cultural beliefs go against this. Traditionally, Asians with mental health problems tend to speak first with a family member and then maybe with a close friend about their issues. Only after that might they consider involving someone outside their networking community. While talking to a therapist would be more accepted by a second-generation Asian person, many of the traditional values of their culture, such as seeking help from an "outside source," still permeate their belief systems. The reason, as the article states, that many Asian cultures associate seeking mental health services as a "weakness" is largely from the fact that these cultures stress "saving face." According to the article, if a person was found to be talking to a therapist about issues that cannot be solved amongst family or close friends, this would be considered "losing face." Once a person "loses face", they can no longer function in his or her social network and are therefore not considered useful in certain situations.

The findings in this article aren’t anything completely revealing to me, a second-generation Filipino-American. I have always, in some way, known that “saving face” was always something that our culture did. Growing up in the Filipino culture in the US, I have witnessed some situations where family or friends have had to “save face,” but I never had the “opportunity” to experience it myself. That is, until now ... as I continue to struggle with infertility. To give you a little more background, my husband and I are both Filipino. We both grew up in a typical Midwest suburb, met each other in high school, and married shortly after college. We started trying to start our family within a year of after getting married with (obviously) no success. Two to three years into our marriage, I was already on Clomid and doing the whole ovulation charting. We didn’t tell anyone about our problems because we figured that it was only a matter of time. And I'll admit it now, we also didn't say anything because, well ... frankly, we didn't want to "lose face." For a while, it wasn’t a big deal with our parents that we were having “issues” until other family friends started to ask them when my husband and I were going to make them “grandparents.” And well, I can't imagine what it was (or still is) like to have to try and "save face" for them. Now the Filipino culture, like many other Asian cultures, places emphasis on family and on being a parent. Women, particularly, are seen as the nurturer’s in the family and are expected to manage the household and raise the children. The woman can still have a very successful career or work outside the home, but the expectation is that she is still the primary caregiver for the children.

If infertility gets thrown into this mixture, many times it is “hush-hushed” because it isn’t an issue that: #1 other people, let alone Filipinos want to talk about, and #2 it’s a matter of being able to “save face.” If we don’t talk about it, it doesn’t exist and therefore those affected by infertility can still be connected to their social networks. Now “saving face,” in my own personal experience, only works for a period of time until there’s a feeling of losing control. When no one talks about the problem, then the feeling of anxiety increases until loneliness starts to settle in. Questions like “Why am I going through this?” and “Am I the only one that has this issue?” suddenly become “I’m so alone” and “no one understands what I’m going through.” For lack of better words, there is no support. There’s no one there to talk to about such issues and no one to empathize with what I’m going through. And it’s mainly because no one wants to talk about infertility. It’s a disease that no one, especially those who have a strong cultural upbringing such as Asians, can get a firm grasp on. I seem to think it’s because literally … there is nothing to grasp on to, as a person going through infertility isn't visually sick. And that’s certainly different then, let’s say, my nephew Liam who is still in the NICU, or someone who is suffering from cancer.

Please don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to belittle any of these health problems because they certainly are life-altering events. These just happen to be health issues that people can readily understand and empathize why someone can be sad or depressed over. Infertility is not. So this is another reason why I’ve been feeling alone in this journey. My husband and I do talk about these issues quite often and he certainly continues to provide me with much support. But sometimes it’s nice to be able to talk to someone other than my wonderful husband about these things.

Our Angel, Liam

Emily — Fri, 21 Sep 2007 02:19:00 +0000

Today is a very sad day. My nephew Liam took a most unexpectedly early journey to heaven. He was born at 31 weeks and fought for every moment of his four months and 1 day of life. I used to joke around with my sister-in-law and her husband that Liam was the perfect name for him ... a very Irish name, a "fighter's" name. And that's exactly what he was. He was also a "lady's man," touching every single woman that walked into his room. All his nurses and therapists fell in love with him and his big brown eyes. And while we know that Liam is in a much better place, we still can't help but miss him something fierce. Thank you, Liam for giving us the opportunity to know you and love you. We know you will always be our angel looking out for us. To see more pictures of Liam, click on the album below:

Liam

Remembering Our Angel, Liam

Emily — Mon, 24 Sep 2007 22:44:00 +0000

The following was read yesterday at my nephew Liam's funeral service. Thank you for everyone that came to visit with our family. And thank you for all the emails and phone calls to show your love and support. Your words and hugs mean more than you'll ever know.

Hello and on behalf of Darren and Janet, Tyler, and the rest of our family, I would like to sincerely thank each and every one of you for being here tonight. The loss of a loved one is always a difficult thing to understand. The loss of an infant, a son … a grandson … a nephew is just about incomprehensible. This evening, we are here to try to make sense of such a thing. When Janet asked me to say a few words tonight, I admit I was a little hesitant. However, I knew right away in my heart that this was something I had to do; not only for her and Darren, but for myself as well. Liam was born on May 19th, 2007. He was born prematurely at 31 weeks and weighed 5lbs and 14oz. But despite the unexpected early arrival, Liam came out ready to live life. In fact, I told Janet that Liam was the perfect name for him. It was a strong Irish name, a fighting name. And that’s what Liam was … a fighter from day one.

Liam born with some imperfections such as a cleft lip and omphalocele, a birth defect in which a portion of the abdominal organs formed outside of the stomach. Nevertheless, to me (and to his mom and dad) he was the most beautiful baby in the NICU. Liam had the first of many procedures, only four days after his birth, to correct the omphalocele. It was one of the biggest that the hospital had ever seen and surgery was a success. He would return to the NICU and unknowingly be loved by all he touched. In fact, I remember one of the male respiratory therapists telling us that Liam was “the miracle baby,” as no one could believe how well he did during and after surgery. Although he was making small gains here and there, Liam still was having difficulty breathing on his own. Every time they would wean him off the respirator, he would eventually need to be put back on it. After three months of this, Janet and Darren made the tough decision to have surgery to place a tracheostomy in the hopes that Liam would eventually grow out of it and be able to breathe on his own. It was to be the procedure that would eventually allow Liam to go home. For a while afterwards, Liam was doing really well. We were all excited that he was becoming more and more active. He was able to sit up in a bouncy chair. He even started to take his feedings by bottle. On the days I would visit, I would even observe him “flirting” with the nurses and therapists.

And finally after three months of impatiently waiting, I was actually able to hold my nephew for the very first time. Although I knew I loved him from the day he was born, the moment Liam looked up at me while in my arms with those beautiful brown eyes, I absolutely fell head-over-heels in love with Liam. Just by holding Liam, I could feel the strength that he had within him. I wanted so badly to bottle up this strength and use it for myself. How could I not fall in love with him? How could anyone who ever came in contact with Liam not fall in love with him? The times I’ve been to the NICU, it was obvious that Liam was quite a popular baby. I jokingly told Janet and Darren that even at such a young age, Liam was quite the “Ladies Man.” All the nurses and therapists that I came in contact with just absolutely fawned and fussed over him. They would tell stories of how Liam was such a curious baby, staring at any activity or at any one who was around him with those big bright eyes. He was absolutely well loved and well taken care of by his nurses and therapists and doctors in the NICU.

Sadly, in the end Liam’s little body couldn’t withstand all the curveballs that was thrown his way. As I saw him in his crib this past Thursday, it was pretty visible that he was declining. His color was much paler than usual and he was definitely less active than I was used to seeing him. But despite that, I could still see him fighting to stay with us. His heart continued to beat strongly and his oxygen levels continued to fool us until he took his very last breath. “Why?,” Janet asked me many times that day. “Why now? Why after all this time?” That is the incomprehensible thing that we are all still trying to understand. Now I can’t answer this question for everyone. However, tonight I will give you my answer to that question:

God gave us Liam for this short period of time for a reason. He sent Liam here for four months so we could get to know him and love him. So we could experience his love and witness his excitement for life. But most of all, Liam was sent here to teach us strength... specifically the strength to go on despite adversity. Tonight and tomorrow … and even during any milestone in life, we will all mourn the loss of Liam and what his life could have been. However, I do think that we should all take comfort knowing that, despite his short life, Liam lived life to the fullest and with all the strength that he had. And we should follow Liam's lead and do the same.

Ka-ching!

Emily — Thu, 27 Sep 2007 17:48:00 +0000

Well ... after a pretty hectic couple of weeks, not to mention a very emotionally exhausting weekend, Hubby & I are off to Vegas, baby! Now, if I can only find a way to empty them slot machines instead of filling them up, we'd have it made! Regardless, this should be a fun trip. If anything, it'll be nice to just get away and relax for a bit. (Is it a sad thing that I'm actually looking forward to the plane ride just so I can sit and do nothing?!) I'm sure I'll have lots to tell when I get back, so more to come at a later date. But then again ... what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas!

What Happens in Vegas ....

Emily — Wed, 03 Oct 2007 16:41:00 +0000

So Hubby & I are back from Las Vegas. We’re not any richer, yet we’re not any poorer either. Truth be told, with all the slots and video poker we played, we came out about $5 in the black. Maybe next trip, we’ll have enough nerve to actually play the tables … although I’m not sure I like the idea of placing a minimum bet (the lowest table being $5) just for one hand of play. Sheez … I have a hard enough time playing any of the slots or video poker games that cost more than $1. Am I abnormal for getting more gratification in spending my money on midway games at places such as Dave and Busters? Las Vegas is definitely an interesting town. From the moment you touch down at McCarren Airport, it's sensory overload. Walking the Las Vegas Strip is like walking Times Squares in NYC ten times over. There is just so much activity every second of the day, it's hard to keep track of what's going on. Each hotel has such a unique "theme" to it, that it's almost like walking into a different country (Paris vs. Venetian vs. New York New York) or a different time period (Luxor vs. Excalibur vs. Treasure Island) or into extreme luxury (Bellagio vs. the new Wynn). There's also such extreme contrasts in Vegas. I mean, where else can you find a Hooter's Casino in direct view of the Shrine of the Most Holy Redeemer Catholic Church? (Yes, since we stayed at my parents' timeshare with them, we felt it important to go to mass with them.) Or where else can you see you can see people dressed to the nines heading to a show walking down the street next to one of those famous Vegas "escorts"?

And speaking of those "escorts," Hubby & I came up with a new game while in Vegas. It's inspired by the nights we walked the Strip doing some very important people watching. What we discovered was during the day, it was quite easy to pick out the "streetwalkers" by the clothing they wore. However as the night rolled it, it became more and more difficult to differentiate them from those that were dressed up to go out to the club. And thus, "Streetwalker vs. Night Clubber, The Game" was born. Trust me. If you ever go to Vegas, it will surely be a great way to pass the night away while waiting to meet up with the rest of your party who are still in the casino gambling (read: Dad). So ultimately, what did we do in Vegas? Well, after arriving into town around 10:30 pm after quite a "spirited" flight (hey, it must have been Thursday night "Bar Night" on our plane), we went to find a place to eat at the Miracle Mile shops inside the new Planet Hollywood Hotel. And yes ... yet again we spotted another Todai, but it's too bad it was closed by that time. Friday was spent touring the south end of the Strip. We started off at Mandalay Bay to check out the Shark Reef exhibit (a must for any Discovery Shark Week fans), took the tram to Exaliber and walked through New York New York. Eventually we ended up at M&M World where I got suckered into buying a $10 M&M container full of different colored M&M's. (What the heck, I only live once, right?)

Friday night, my parents treated us to a late anniversary gift by taking us to see "Love" at the Mirage, which is The Beatles-inspired Cirque du Soleil production. This show is a MUST for any Beatles fan out there. Definitely very cool. And according to my Mom and Aunt, this show was muuuch better than the Celine Dion performance they saw the night before at Caesar's Palace. (Hmmm ... personally, I'd chose The Beatles over Celine any day.) The show was probably the highlight of our entire trip. Saturday, Hubby & I spent the day walking the north end of the Strip and doing some shopping along the way. But first, we had to start our day by stopping in "Paris" where we had to return (after a 6-year wait) to "La Creperie" to have the best crepes we've ever had. While heading past Caesar's Palace, we stumbled onto a Buddhist shrine which seemed oddly out of place in the midst of all the glitz and glamour of the Strip. (OK, so the geek in me had to find out more about this. So if you're interested, click here for a bit of history.) Then we headed to the Shops at the Forum, then to the Fashion Show Mall and eventually ended up at the Wynn Hotel. By that time, we were beat tired and ended up taking a taxi back to the condo. We ended taking the bus to meet my parents at mass; which was a trip in itself. Just imagine us running across Las Vegas Blvd trying to make it to the 4 o'clock mass after we missed the stop we should have gotten off at. Yep. It was like playing Frogger. And once we got there (just as the mass was starting), trying to find my parents proved to be more difficult than we thought. I mean, come on! How many white-haired portly Filipinos married to a caramel-colored hair Filipina with freckles could there be in Vegas?! We never did find them until halfway through the mass.

Afterwards, all of us (including my Aunt and her significant other, Bob) took the bus down to Fremont Street to have dinner together for the last night of our trip and to check out the "original" strip. You know the one. Just imagine the U2 video for "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For". Now imagine the street filled with Harley Davison bikers roaming up and down the strip. Yes, it just happened to be the annual Las Vegas BikeFest, so there were quite a few interesting characters roaming the strip. Hubby & I headed back towards the main strip shortly after dinner where we checked out the Venetian, got myself a margarita at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, and then gambled at Planet Hollywood until well past midnight. The next morning, we got our sorry butts up and dragged ourselves to the airport. The frickin' security line was unbelievably long. In my opinion, an airport that sees millions of people needs to find a more time-efficient way to get all the passengers through security screening. The one exciting thing that happened in line? Me spotting Barry Manilow being escorted AROUND security. Hmm ... it obviously pays to be a celebrity. Overall, it was a fun trip. And thanks to Mom & Dad, it was honestly a great way to unwind from such a long stressful few weeks. And, by the length of this blog ... what happened in Vegas, obviously did NOT stay in Vegas. Oh well, c'est la vie! Check out more pictures of our Vegas trip by clicking the album!

Las Vegas 2007

Quiz Time

Emily — Tue, 09 Oct 2007 01:26:00 +0000

Okay, I admit it. I was feeling a little bored. I was surfing some blogs and stumbled on to the first quiz below on someone else's blog. And well, then I kept finding more quizzes I wanted to take on the site. Scary thing is that the results, although not 100% accurate, do reflect how my life has been affected by certain circumstances, particularly infertility. Anyway, below is the extent of my boredom.

Your Mind is 79% Cluttered

Your mind is quite cluttered. And like most clutter, it's a bunch of crap you don't need. Try writing down your worst problems and fears. And then put them out of your mind for a while.

Why am I not suprised?!

You Have Low Self Esteem 60% of the Time

While you sometimes feel good about yourself, you tend to struggle a little with self esteem issues. It's not about changing who you are, it's about accepting your faults. You just need to be less critical and demanding of yourself!

Seriously?! Thought it would be more.

The Part of You That No One Sees

You are balanced, peaceful, and sincere. You're the type of person who goes along to get along. And you're definitely afraid of rocking the boat.Underneath it all, you fear your world falling apart. You'll put up with a situation that you don't like in fear of changing it. Disruptive and forceful people intimidate you - and sometimes exploit you.

Well, that's actually pretty accurate.

You Are Probably Not Pregnant

It seems like you're in the clear, but you should really take a test to be sure.

Duh.... I think I failed this test, or um ... quiz.

Well, maybe next time I'll find something more productive to blog about. Like how I'm enjoying some of the new shows out there on TV this fall. Or how I find it completely adorable that Hubby likes to find movies he knows I'd love to watch over and over again and puts that on the TV instead of something I know he'd love to watch. Yep, gotta love Hubby.

Baby Picture

Emily — Sat, 13 Oct 2007 00:30:00 +0000

A couple weeks I stumbled onto a picture that I had tucked away inside my dresser. At the time I tucked it away, it was the intent that I would someday look back at it and think, "Wow. I can't believe how far I've come since then." As it happened, that day I was busy looking for something else and I pulled the picture out and put it on top of my dresser (actually, on my mirror) and then went about my business.It wasn't until yesterday when I was talking to a newly acquired friend, about my recent find that it hit me as to what the picture actually was. The picture I found happened to be the picture of my "would-be babies," the embryos that were implanted into my womb during my one attempt at in vitro fertilization (IVF). As I was telling my friend about the snapshot, I felt myself begin to cry yet once again. I relived that period of my life yesterday afternoon as I told her my story and my struggle. She's heard bits and pieces about it before, but never to the extent as I did yesterday. She had previously heard about the treatment I went through, all leading up to the IVF cycle. And she certainly heard about all the wonderful medications I had to inject into myself each month and especially during the IVF cycle month. But what she never heard (nor anyone else for that matter) was how emotionally spent I was after each monthly disappointment... especially after the failed IVF cycle. What I had told my friend is that when I looked at that picture, it reminded me of how different a person I was since that period of time. And even how much more different a person I was since starting my infertility journey ten years prior.

Ten years ago, I saw myself as a pretty optimistic person. A "glass is half-full" type of person. If pregnancy didn't happen, then it just wasn't meant to be just yet. Almost a year later, I began to become cautiously optimistic. And by the time I had my first hysteroscope, my mindset was of "let's just get the task done." At my lowest "pre-IVF" point, I was definitely very pessimistic about any chance of ever getting pregnant. By that time I had already had done enough ovulation charting, had more than enough Clomid cycles followed by even stronger injectable medication cycles, and had enough surgeries to last me a lifetime. It was at that time I became a"glass is half-empty" person. So when Hubby and I finally decided to try the IVF route, I knew I had to change my attitude. And although I knew that IVF was never a guarantee that I'd be able to get pregnant, I had to think positive. In fact, I couldn't just think positive, I had to put every effort into making sure that I was going to be successful at becoming pregnant. It was actually not as hard as I thought, especially with all the hormones I was pumping into me. I knew then that if I had even a shred of doubt, I would fall deep into the abyss of pessimism. So imagine how far I fell once I found out my IVF cycle was unsuccessful. I certainly did plunge deep into that deep pit of despair. There was the initial shock and disappointment, followed closely by hysterics for the next couple weeks. Anything at that time set me off into waves of sadness and tears. A year after the failed IVF attempt, when we made the decision to let our one frozen blastocyte "go," it was like reliving all the emotions of the year prior.* And in that moment, I knew I would never be able to go through another IVF attempt. It was just too emotionally and physically painful for me to ever have to go through again. After a period of time, I just became "numb." Crying seemed to be useless, and to tell you the truth, very humiliating. After all, in my culture, crying is only appropriate for a set amount of time. After that, crying is just considered a sign of weakness as we are taught to quickly "get over" our loss and "move on" right away. So after awhile, I learned to stifle my pain and pretend as if nothing was wrong. I pretended to be "over" the failed IVF attempt and let people believe that I was just content with my current situation. I also let others believe that eventually my Hubby & I would be working towards adoption. And truthfully, I tried to convince myself of that for the next three years. However, as the past three years went by, I unconsciously knew that something was missing. By all standards, I looked like I was okay, but inside I felt miserable. I probably would have continued to go on feeling like this if it wasn't for the news that we received a year ago next month. That news was of my sister-in-law's pregnancy. And well, if you've read my previous posts (not to mention the most recent posts of Liam's life), you'd know that I didn't handle the news very well. As of recently, I'd like to think I managed the most recent events rather decently, but it's only after I spent this last year talking (and subsequently blogging) about the gamut of emotions I've been through. So where am I at now? Well, obviously I've been crying a lot lately (cultural behavior be damned!). In fact, I think I've cried more this past year than I did over the last ten years, since I started this crazy infertility journey. I know for a fact that all the events that have transpired over the past year is responsible for the river of tears (not to mention the trails of tissue paper) that follow behind me. And while it's been a terribly difficult year, I do have to admit I feel I've grown a little more emotionally stronger from it. I would think that just by being able to post my "baby picture" shows that I am. (At least I hope so). Wow. I can't believe how far I've come since then. * For a quick overview of our IVF history, we had 13 eggs retrieved, 8 of which were fertilized using ICSI, 3 of which "matured" enough, 2 of which were implanted in me. The lonely one that was left was frozen for the possibility of later doing a "frozen cycle." What we didn't expect was that we'd only have one blastocyte mature out of the 13 eggs that were originally retrieved. As there isn't much success rate in doing a "frozen cycle," let alone with only one blastocyte, Hubby & I elected not to proceed with that next step.

Faith and Longing

Emily — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 17:30:00 +0000

I didn’t know this, but October is National Pregnancy and Infancy Loss Month. My Mom, a devout Catholic, told me this information last week after reading her church bulletin. Apparently, the Cathedral of the Most Blessed Sacrament (which is also the Archdiocese of Detroit’s “home parish”) was holding it’s annual mass for those couples who have lost their baby or for those couples who were trying to achieve pregnancy. She had called me thinking that my sister-in-law (SIL), Janet, and I might be interested in attending the mass. I told her that I would talk to Janet and then call her back the next day if we decide to go.

Right away, I knew my decision was going to be based on whether my SIL wanted to go. It’s not that I don’t have any spiritual faith or that I don’t believe in a higher power. It’s more because the past 10 years of infertility have caused a “rift” between God and myself. Let’s start with a little background. As I mentioned before, my mother is a strong believer in her Catholic faith. Growing up in our household, God was always present in our daily lives and activities. The weekends revolved around when we were going to mass. We would spend summers volunteering to do “Meals on Wheels” through our Church and any Catholic holiday helping out with preparations for our Church. Every night, we would read a chapter from the Bible. And because religion was very important to my parents, I attended Catholic school up through high school. I consider myself truly lucky that my parents invested their time and their money in bringing me up with such a strong faith background. And I truly admire my Mom for all that she continues to do on a daily basis for her faith. And there’s me. After twelve years of Catholic school and the freedom of going away to college … well, of course I detoured and explored life without organized religion. It's not that I stopped believing in my faith or stopped practicing the basic morals of what I was taught growing up. Rather, I stopped going to mass weekly and only went when it was absolutely necessary. I also stopped my habit of saying my nightly prayers. Let's face it, college life (and even post-college life) was just more interesting and religion was put on the back burner.

However, even back then I always knew that I would return to my faith. The one thing that Hubby (who is also Catholic) and I always said was that when it came to raising our children, we wanted to provide them with the same faith and morals that we were taught growing up. And when that time came, we both knew we would whole-heartedly return to our faith. So imagine what has gone through my mind these past ten years as pregnancy never came. Now most people would have turned closer to their faith. And at first I did. I returned to my nightly prayers and attempted to go to mass weekly. My prayers for a family initially started out as "Please God, I ask that you provide me with the family I've always wanted." As the years went on, it became "God, I know I'm a good person but I don't understand why you're testing my faith. Why can't I get pregnant?" Eventually, I just became very angry at God. Why would He do this to me? Why does He allow other people to become parents when they don't deserve to be? If God has a reason for doing things (as everyone has a way of telling me over and over AND OVER again), what "reason" did He have for making me feel so sad and miserable and GUILTY for feeling the way I do? So when the opportunity to go to this mass came along, I wasn't jumping at the bit. However, I knew that this would be a good thing for my SIL, especially since her loss is so recent. After a bit of discussion, we decided to meet up for breakfast on Sunday and head down to the Cathedral, sans husbands (my hubby had to work and hers is not of the same faith).

Overall, I am truly glad that we went. My SIL had the opportunity to place Liam's name in the Book of Innocence, in which prayers will be said for these babies' souls. A prayer was said to all those parents who lost their infant and each family was given a rose and a rosary blessed by Cardinal Maida. A prayer was also said for all the couples wishing to become pregnant or adopt a child. We were individually prayed over by the bishop with an actual relic of St. Gerard and given his medallion to continue to pray to him so that St. Gerard would "intercede" to God on our behalf. It was pretty emotional being up there and being surrounded by the beauty and strength of the Cathedral. And I do admit, I certainly did feel God's presence that day. However, there was one thing that truly bugged me. This mass was sponsored by the archdiocese's Natural Family Planning program. Which makes sense, given the nature of what this Mass was about. What had bothered me was the handout they provided on all their methods for Natural Family Planning. Not that I have anything against it, but obviously I wasn't able to get pregnant using that method. At the very bottom of their handout, it made mention about the Catholic stance on infertility procedures. The basic gist of what they said was that certain infertility procedures are appropriate; however, those procedures that involve a third person in the creation of a child is morally unacceptable.

So wow. My first response on that? Holy Mary, Mother of God ... I sinned. And I sinned REALLY badly. And apparently that's the reason why my IVF cycle failed. So guilt was my first reaction. The second one was that of anger. Why the bloody hell is it considered immoral? I tried everything under the sun to try to procreate naturally and it didn't happen. So are they telling me then that if pregnancy didn't happen "naturally" then it's God's will that I remain childless? And yet ... (here it comes again) there are people out there who don't deserve to have children? Okay, so logically I know my first reaction was irrational. And the second one is indeed justified. But it's that type of thing that leaves me feeling disappointed in my faith.

Despite all that, I do admit that I've been trying to work on returning to my faith. As of recently, I have started meeting with a Stephen Minister through a local Catholic Church who just sits and talks with me about all this anger and guilt that I feel, especially about my infertility and my fears about the adoption process. Perhaps one day, whether I continue to pursue having a family or not, I will fully, without any reservations, return to my faith. Hmm ... I wonder if the Catholic Church knows that the week of November 4-10 is National Infertility Awareness Week. And I wonder if they'll have any events that commemorates that week?

VHS or BETA

Emily — Sat, 20 Oct 2007 19:33:00 +0000

There are few bands out there that completely surprise me any more these days. I don't know if it's the fact that the older I get, the more music starts to sound the same or similar to another song that's out there now. Or perhaps there aren't many original bands out there this day. I usually leave the task of updating my iPod with music to my husband. He's pretty good at picking up music he knows I'd enjoy. A couple years ago, my Hubby downloaded the album "Night on Fire" by VHS or BETA. I had never heard of them before, but they instantly became a favorite of mine. Their sound reminded me of bands that I loved back in the 80's. To me, without reading any previous reviews on them, they sounded like a cross between Duran Duran during their "New Romantic" era and Robert Smith from The Cure. It was the type of music that made me want to roll down my car window and sing at the top of my lungs, like I used to in high school. A few weeks ago, Hubby and I were listening to them in the car (and yes, I was singing along). I turned to him and said, "If these guys ever come in concert, I would love to check them out." Imagine my surprise when last week, he told me they were coming to Detroit. Yeah, we definitely had to go. So last night, we drove to the Magic Stick to check the band out. I was taken back by how relatively empty the place was. I would have thought that more people would have dug their sound as well. It wasn't until VHS or BETA actually came on and said that they were happy that anyone showed up at all as Morrissey was also in town, that I remembered that bit of news. Regardless, the band totally ROCKED! (How 80's sounding is that?) And since it was such an "intimate" atmosphere, that made it all the better. But going back to the whole "surprised" part of it. The band itself, was not at all what I would have thought they would look like. I pictured tailored Durannie-looking outfits and a mostly synth-based, drum and bass-loaded band. What stood in front of me was a skinny better-than-early-Axl Rose-without-the-big-hair-looking band. And what I thought would be mostly pre-recorded tracks on a Mac laptop that was hooked up to the keyboards was really a full-out band. And the way they played together, it was just a perfectly engineered sound. A very very tight sound. (And on a completely different note, I was totally floored by the fact that the lead singer was Asian... Represent!!) So there you have it. A big thumbs up for VHS or BETA from me. If you guys ever get a chance to see them, I recommend that you do. In the mean time, check out the video for "Night on Fire" which has got to be my favorite tune from them. And let me know what you think ... you be the judge.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_MBNyJlvdLY]

Autumn Soundtrack & Apron Strings

Emily — Sun, 28 Oct 2007 22:12:00 +0000

I love autumn. It’s my favorite season of the year. There’s something about it that appeals to all my senses. The air smells crisp … which then reminds me of pumpkin pie and caramel apples. The leaves change to bright beautiful colors and once they fall, they are just so much fun to stomp on just to hear the crinkling sound. And of course, there’s the change in weather … Indian summer is great, but I do look forward to the drop in temperature just so I can start wearing my sweaters again. Fall always invokes many memories. The absolute geek in me remembers being excited to go back to school so that I could crack open those new books and break in those new supplies. There’s also the annual trip to the cider mill to get fresh cider and hot donuts and/or to the apple orchards to pick fresh apples. And of course, there is always college football. Over the years, I’ve started to associate certain songs with certain seasons. Most people associate certain scents with memories, but I’ve always been one that tends to gravitate to the music that has surrounded me during the periods in my life. I describe it as my own personal soundtrack to my life. For autumn, there is something about The Cure that sticks out in my mind, particularly the "Disintegration" album and specifically the song "Pictures of You." I’m sure it’s because I remember seeing them in concert during the fall of my senior year in high school; and the song has this haunting melody that reminds me of saying goodbye to friends that have graduated and were heading off to college for the first time. And speaking of college, another song sparks memories of that first weekend of college and moving into my dorm room. "Life in a Northern Town" by The Dream Academy reminds me of leaving that sheltered environment of Catholic school and expanding my horizons. I remember this song being played by a person I had just met and was surprised that this particular person would like this song as well. It reminds me that you can never judge a book by its cover. Then there’s "Hands to Heaven" by Breathe. Every time I hear this song I remember my first date in my Junior year in high school. It was the Homecoming Dance at my school and I was escorted by none other than the person I would eventually marry nine years later. Can you believe back then we were going to the dance strictly “as friends?” I think it’s rather interesting that the chorus to that song starts out as “So raise your hands to heaven and pray / That we’ll be back together some day.” Hmm… must have been a foreshadowing of what was to come. And the last quintessential song for my Fall Soundtrack is none other than the song of which my blog title came from. "Apron String" by Everything But The Girl has been a song that has been part of my life since I was in high school. The first time I ever heard it was by listening to the soundtrack for the John Hughes film, “She’s Having A Baby.” Not that I really liked that particular movie, but John Hughes, in my humble opinion, always had a knack for picking such great songs for any of his films. Anyway, this song reminds me of fall simply for the fact that I remember playing that soundtrack over and over one autumn season. It's funny how "Apron Strings", as a song has always been part of my life. First, during that one autumn season that I played that song over and over again. Then, as I began to fall in love with my husband one spring day during a trip to Ann Arbor my senior year in high school. And finally as I have struggled emotionally over the past ten years with infertility. My husband came up with the name of the blog, I think, strictly on the fact that he knew that this was probably my most favorite song in the world. What he didn't expect was that this blog and that song would be pretty much the running theme for what I "needed" to blog about. I've had people ask me why I decided to name my blog "Apron Strings," as the common reference to actual apron strings is about either being tied to one or needing to be cut from one. For me, the song "Apron Strings" is all about longing. When put in context with infertility, it becomes specifically a longing for a child. If you haven't had a chance to read the lyrics to the song, feel free to read it here. Then let me know what you think. But getting back to the whole Autumn soundtrack, music has always played a part in my life. I'd like to know what other songs people associate this season with. There's some R.E.M. songs that I can think of as well as some U2 songs (hmmm ... perhaps "October"?). Or perhaps it's something as silly as a song from the "Grease" soundtrack. Come on ... I can hear you humming a song in the back of your head ... let's "hear" it in writing! Mmmm ... all this talk about autumn has got me craving some warm apple pie and of wanting to snuggle under a warm blanket with Hubby. I'll be catching you guys later!

Needle Nut

Emily — Thu, 01 Nov 2007 19:00:00 +0000

I have been a little busy lately. Probably a good thing, as I do need to keep myself busy otherwise I will start to overanalyze things like I typically do. And then, well ... that just gets me in trouble. (I swear, there is something to be said about thinking "too much.") However, this time around, I'm keeping myself busy is for a good cause.

My Newest "Nephew" Jakobi

Last year, a co-worker and I read an article in our work newsletter that talked about a couple of other employees in another one of our offices who knitted and crocheted quite a few baby hats and donated them to a local hospital's Neonatal and Special Care Nursery units. Since the two of us knit, we thought that the following year we would try and do the same thing. And over the course of the year, we did forget about it. It wasn't until the most recent events concerning my nephew, Liam, that I once again remembered our plan. Since we had quite a few knitters and crocheters in our office, we decided to include them in our plans as well. We also thought that instead of limiting our project to premie and newborn hats, we would extend it to chemo caps for those kids in the Pediatric Oncology floors. Since presenting this idea to our other co-workers a few weeks ago, we have received an overwhelmingly warm response. We had such a great response that we've even designated our lunch time on Mondays to work on our projects and to get tips or exchange patterns for different designs. (We're a pretty big group in our cafeteria that our group has been given the nickname "Needle Nuts.") And as of this past week, we have well over 20 knitted or crocheted premie hats and chemo caps in a variety of different colors and styles. It's been like Christmas for me every day, as there is always a new item added to the box next to my desk.

"The Therapeutic Blanket Project"

Doing this project has become therapeutic for me... especially given the fact that I'm actually knitting hats for babies that won't ever be my own. I always thought it was ironic that I was a knitter. After all, there's a common misnomer that knitters were either grandmothers or mothers who would knit things for babies or young children. And here I was, the childless wonder. I started knitting a few years ago simply as a diversion. And when I found out that my SIL was pregnant, I knew that I was going to knit a blanket and hat & booties for this child, even though I knew it would just about kill me. But I finished that project (unofficially known as the "therapeutic blanket project"), and I felt really good about doing it too. (It's just too bad that Liam never got to use them.) After that, I went on to knit a newborn hat this summer for my cousin in Calgary who was due in September. And now ... I'm heading up our holiday needle craft project at work. To be doing that is a big step for me. For so long I felt so down on myself (and there are still quite a few days that I do) and quite honestly, clinically depressed. Every literature I ever read about trying to snap out of depression was to do something for others; the theory being that if you helped others less fortunate, you wouldn't feel so down on yourself. And it's a really good theory. However, try telling that to someone who could barely take care of herself, let alone help someone else out. Nearly next to impossible, I tell you. But now that I have a little more energy, I do feel that I am able to help others out a little more. And that's a good thing ... for this Needle Nut.

The Box of Hats Thus Far

Happy Pomegranate Week

Emily — Sun, 04 Nov 2007 20:43:00 +0000

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week. And as I suspected, I am not aware of anything that the Archdiocese of Detroit is doing to "celebrate" this week. (Although, is there really anything to celebrate about infertility?) Ironically though, if one was interested in sending their children to Catholic schools in the area, the Archdiocese has designated today as "Open House" day for all the Catholic schools. Hmmm... if I HAD any children, I would probably be taking part of this event. But alas ... So knowing that my faith wasn't doing anything to promote this week, I went online to see if there was anything locally going on this week. What did my search yield? That there was absolutely NOTHING happening in and around the great city of Detroit. Actually, I didn't find anything within the whole state of Michigan. And I EVEN checked the Resolve website. Pretty darn sad, if you ask me. So it's no wonder why infertility as a chronic disease is just not something that many people are willing to discuss. (And I DO mean a chronic disease, like diabetes or cancer. In my humble opinion, infertility is a disease that requires a lifestyle adjustment.) That's why I decided to rename this week "Pomegranate Week" instead. Why Pomegranate? In a movement started via blogging, the idea of having a symbol for those who have experienced or currently experiencing infertility evolved. This led to a lengthy discussion about a symbol that would identify other "infertiles" from one another as well as perhaps a catalyst to discussing infertility to those who might question what the symbol was about. Eventually what this group came up with was a simple thread, the color of pomegranate. This thread, which was to be tied along the right wrist as a bracelet, could be as simple or as ornate as the wearer wanted it to be. And thus this movement became known as "Infertility's Common Thread." I could go on and on about the history of how this came about and all the symbolism to it. However, I think the original statement that was written by a fellow "infertile" says it best:

Pomegranates, a longstanding symbol of fertility, serve as a strong analogy to those suffering through infertility. Though each pomegranate skin is unique in colour and texture, the seeds inside are remarkably similar from fruit to fruit. Though our diagnosis is unique — endometriosis, low sperm count, luteal phase defect, or causes unknown — the emotions, those seeds on the inside, are the same from person to person. Infertility creates frustration, anger, depression, guilt, and loneliness. Compounding these emotions is the shame that drives people suffering from infertility to retreat into silence. In addition, the seeds represent the multitude of ways one can build their family: natural conception, treatments, adoption, third-party reproduction, or even choosing to live child-free. The pomegranate thread holds a two-fold purpose: to identify and create community between those experiencing infertility as well as create a starting point for a conversation. Women pregnant through A.R.T., families created through adoption, or couples trying to conceive during infertility can wear the thread, identifying themselves to others in this silent community. At the same time, the string serves as a gateway to conversations about infertility when people inquire about its purpose. These conversations are imperative if we are ever to remove the social stigma attached to infertility. Tie on the thread because you’re not alone. Wear to make aware.

NOT a Kabbalah Bracelet

So a few weeks ago, I went out and bought my pomegranate colored thread (DMC embroidery floss # 814). And yesterday, I finally made my bracelet. Today, I wear it proudly and if anyone should ask, I would gladly share a discussion with them. For my fellow Infertility Friends, Happy Pomegranate Week!

Trusting Myself

Emily — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 03:30:00 +0000

I've been feeling a little off for the past week and a half. It started out as something simple, like feeling even more tired that I usually already am on a given day. Then I had this horrible headache that just wouldn't go away. Towards the end of last week, I just felt like I wasn't thinking or acting or generally functioning right.

Mother Goose & her Ducklings

at the Local Strip Mall

The last time I felt this way was back in March, and even back then I couldn't figure out why I was feeling "off." It wasn't until a friend pointed out to me that it was the yearly "anniversary" of my failed IVF attempt. This friend, who is also a nurse, had a theory that the body can "remember" when certain past events come up during the course of the year. And though I might not have consciously remembered that March was the month that I failed to keep my little embryos tucked inside of me, my body certainly did. Or, more accurately, even though I may have been trying my best to FORGET the horrible emotions I felt one March, my body wasn't letting me. Initially, hearing that information made me angry. After all, we're talking about the same body that has "betrayed" me. This is the same body that failed to carry a baby, let alone successfully create a life all on its own. So now I'm supposed to recognize that my body was reminding me of a very agonizing time in my life? And I'm supposed to trust my body, or more precisely, trust that the emotions I've been feeling are valid and not simply "crazy thoughts"? That hopefully, by remembering all the pain I went through that month, I will be able to move away from it? I wanted to chuck that theory out the window. Yet ... the interesting thing was, once I acknowledged that the memory of that cold and lonely March was why I was feeling so funky, my fogginess started to clear.

Rabid Wolverine Fans

So what event was my body trying to remind me of this time? Well, almost a year ago while sitting at home watching the big University of Michigan vs. Ohio State football game in Columbus, OH on the TV, our phone rang. Now, if you've read my previous blog, or if you just really know my husband and I, we are huge Michigan football fans. And every year, the game against Ohio State is the biggest game of the season. So when the phone rang, we let the answering machine pick it up. What we heard on the machine was my SIL telling us her great news ... that she and her husband were pregnant. And, well ... we all can just imagine how well I took that news. It isn't just the news of my SIL's pregnancy that one day in November that has sent me into some sort of emotional vortex. Really, I think it's what that day symbolizes. It's the day that I believe I hit absolute rock bottom in my infertility journey. And it was also the beginning of a year of incredible lows and lowers. Apparently, this past week, my body has been telling me to remember that point in my life. To acknowledge where I was a year ago this coming Saturday. There are still some days I wish I could just forget that this past year has ever happened. However, I now recognize that I do have to look back and remember just so I can move forward towards whatever direction in life I'm supposed to take. Maybe it's my body's way of telling me to forgive "it" ... or rather, to forgive myself ... for not being able to bring my own flesh and blood into this world. And maybe, in some strange sense, my body is telling me to learn to trust my instincts and my overall self again.

Sideways Glance

Emily — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 05:02:00 +0000

Random Cool Picture

I'm sitting here reading some of my wonderful Infertility Friends' blogs trying to post some responses. And as I sit here, my hubby is giving me sideways glances as he tries to play NBA Live on our PS2. I know why he does this. And it's one of those things that I'm both very grateful for and yet slightly bothered by. You see the reason he's doing that is to check on me. To make sure I'm okay after I was told some wonderful news tonite. And while I am absolutely happy and excited that my longtime friend is pregnant with her third child, I can't help be just a little sad for myself. Which, I'm wondering if I'm being just a little bit of a hypocrite by telling my friend not to be sad for me. (Because I know you still are, my dear friend!) The thing is, I know Hubby is merely checking to see if I'm still emotionally intact. After all, in my previous blog post, I just happened to mention how my SIL's news one year ago this Saturday sent me into a major tailspin. And how a couple days ago, I told him that every year I will now associate the Michigan/Ohio State game as the day I hit rock bottom. (Come to think of it, I just told my friend the same thing earlier this evening before finding out about her pregnancy ... Woops. Insert foot in mouth.) And trust me, I am so very grateful (not to mention lucky) to know that Hubby cares about me THAT much to keep an eye on me.

Another Random Cool Picture

However, I do want to let him (as well as my dear friend) know that I'm okay. I do admit to being a little sad for myself; however, I will bounce back. After all, I am a much stronger person than I was a year ago. So thank you, dear Hubby and my dear friend, for your absolute love and concern. I am forever grateful for both of you and of your support for me. If it weren't for either of you in my life, I wouldn't be the stronger person I am today.

Look What This Nut Has Done ...

Emily — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 13:00:00 +0000

Meet "Newbie," the squirrel that "hangs out" in front of my work space

Those darn Needle Nuts at work ... can't ever keep them quiet. Wait. What am I blabbing about?! I am one of those Needle nuts. To date, I now have two and a half boxes full of hats. I am completely overwhelmed by the response we've gotten. We've knitted and crocheted so many unique and beautiful hats that I couldn't keep them hidden inside the boxes. So instead of doing work yesterday (hey, like I can focus the day before I leave for a week's vacation), a few co-workers and I had fun dressing up our plush toys. And what a fashion show they've put on!

It all started by dressing "Elmo"

Last weekend I stopped by my local yarn shop to pick up some more yarn and needles. (Like I need an excuse to go in and "touchy-feely" the cool fibers they've got there. But I digress ...)

"May the Force be with You"

I ended up talking with Bridget, the owner of the shop. She, along with another yarn shop owner, had started a group that knits (or creates other fiber arts) for local cancer charities. Anyway, I ended up telling her about the project we were doing at work and my personal reasons for specifically making preemie hats. She was so touched by the story of my nephew, that she donated quite a few balls of scrap yarn (and a couple skeins) for us to make more hats. Again, I am overwhelmed with everyone's generosity. And now, to top it off ... a fellow co-worker managed to "re-teach" me to crochet (my grandmother taught me many moons ago, but I forgot). So now I get to whip out even more preemie hats and chemo caps! Oh my, even more of an excuse to hit the yarn shops again!

This isn't even a third of what we have created!

Off to Find Capt. Jack Sparrow

Emily — Sun, 18 Nov 2007 07:17:00 +0000

Well, not really. But wouldn't mind actually meeting the REAL Johnny Depp. (Sigh ... my personal McSteamy). Seriously, Just in case you're wondering why my Yahoo Avatar is in a sarong and bikini ... it's because I'm sailing away to the Caribbean for the week. Woo-hoo! So hope you guys all have a wonderful Turkey Gobble Gobble Day!

Jamaican Me Crazy

Emily — Wed, 28 Nov 2007 02:30:00 +0000

Well, I'm back from sailing the Caribbean Sea ... albeit, reluctantly. If I didn't have to return to work to make up for all the money we spent on this trip, I would still be out there in the wide open waters.

I blame the Cancerian in me. Having been born under a water sign, I find myself being attracted to oceans and lakes. And I also blame the Filipino in me. After all, the Philippines is a country formed by a multitude of islands (over a thousand, in fact) in the Pacific Ocean. That definitely makes me think I should be a permanent "Island Girl." Anyway, back to our Royal Caribbean Cruise. The reason we booked this vacation was mainly to celebrate my parents' retirement. This was going to be the first family vacation in over 15 years and was to include my brother & his wife along with Hubby & me. Unfortunately it was only to be Hubby & me with my parents. (Ha ... that only meant more chocolate and dessert for me! Tee-hee!) Regardless, we all had TONS of fun and enjoyed an absolutely relaxing vacation. We sailed out of Port Canaveral on Sunday the 18th on our ship, the Mariner of the Seas and spent the entire first day of the cruise at sea. The ship is literally a city on water. Not only did they have the typical amnemities of your usual cruise ship (theatre, beautiful dining rooms, many lounges and bars, huge pools), but they also had an ice rink, a basketball court, and a 9-hole mini-golf course. I swear, we lived in this "city" for 7 whole days, and I STILL feel like I haven't explored it all.

The first port we docked at (on Tuesday) was Labadee, Haiti. Now I know what you're thinking ... why would ANY cruise ship include a stop in Haiti. However, I am here to tell you that of all the ports we docked at, Haiti was both Hubby & my favorite. But that's because where we were staying was a private beach owned by Royal Caribbean. There was honestly not a whole lot of activities to do at that destination ... but we didn't care. The beach was beautiful and the water was refreshingly cool. We checked out some local tourist attractions and learned a little history. (For instance ... Did you know that Haiti was the first completely run slave country to gain it's independence? Or that a buccaneer is a "retired pirate" who was now supporting piracy on land by mostly running trading posts?) But mostly we just hung out at the beach enjoying the slight breeze and napping on lounge chairs while listening to the waves. It was THE BEST place to start off our vacation.

The next day (Wednesday), our ship docked at Ocho Rios, Jamaica. I was looking forward to our tour excursion at this location because this was the day that was going to be able to encounter dolphins. We headed out to Dolphin Cove in the morning where we were first told to explore the whole park. This place not only had dolphin, but they apparently had a shark show (which we didn't see). They also had areas throughout the park where you could encounter other animals. I actually got to handle one of the beautiful parrots and Hubby & I also got to hold a giant iguana ... it was definitely a unique experience. But the main attraction of the day was being able to touch and feel and KISS Misty, our dolphin. She was an absolute cutie! We were able to witness her do some awesome tricks in front of us, too. Although I wish we could have done a little swimming with her (that package was mucho expensive!), I'm glad we didn't ... as we didn't see those groups witness any more than we did, nor did they actually get to hold onto their fins and swim with them.

While still in Ocho Rios, our next stop was the Dunn's River Falls. Our tour excursion included the ability to climb these falls and then relax in all it's glory. So here I'm thinking of my trip to Oregon, where climbing the falls meant taking a wooded trail to the top. Oh no. In Jamaica, climbing Dunn's Falls actually meant climbing the tiered rock-formation falls. Now, I think all would have been fine and dandy if we would have known exactly how these falls looked like before we decided NOT to take the 45-minute guided tour up to the top with the regular "tour group." Instead, we were approached by a tour guide who offered to take us up the falls all by ourselves. Well. It was definitely an adventure for us and after about a half hour of climbing against strong currents and taking the "nontraditional" tour group route (not to mention acquiring a few war wounds along the way), we made it up to the top of the falls, out of breath but proud of ourselves for surviving the climb. Afterwards, we were planning on doing a little shopping but ... 1) We were too annoyed by many of the locals at the Dunn's River Falls market approaching us and trying to get us to buy something we didn't want, and 2) We were too freakin' exhausted after that climb. So instead, we headed back to our trusty Mariner and relaxed the rest of the day.

Our fifth day of our cruise (Thursday), we docked in George Town, Grand Cayman. Again, we booked a tour excursion that would take us around most of the island. Our first stop was to check out Cheeseburger Reef (aptly named for the fact that the reef sits directly in front of the local Burger King ... at least that's what we were told) to see all the exotic marine life via a semi-submersible boat. Along the way to the reef, we got to see a few shipwrecks underwater (the Cali and the Balboa) as well as a few stingrays.

Afterwards, we climbed aboard our "tour bus" and got the tour of the island including a stop at the famous "Seven Mile Beach" as well as the Tortuga Rum shop where we could sample both rum and delicious rum cakes. Eventually we ended up at a little town called Hell. Of course we had to take pictures of ourselves in Hell, go to the bathroom in Hell, and even send a postcard to a couple of our friends (those whose addresses we could remember!) from Hell. Way too many puns to come up with when you visit a town called Hell. Seriously though, the reason the town was named Hell was because of the interesting rock formations that were found in the area. Makes you wonder if this is what Hell really looks like.

And finally, our last stop was the Boatswain's Beach / Cayman Turtle Farm where we got to see many a sea turtles in various stages of life (from little hatchlings all the way up to 20 to 30 year old sea turtles). The best part? We got to pick up the 2 year old sea turtles and feel their shells, fins, and soft heads. Way cool. The worst part? Well, knowing that we were actually visiting a "farm" where they breed turtles both for sustaining the species as well as for commercial reasons. In fact, after the tour was over, my Dad went over to the attached Botswain Resort's restaurant and got himself a little cup of turtle soup where he proceeded to offer some to Hubby & me. All I could tell him was I could never bring myself to ever eat turtle soup again after meeting "Squirt" from "Finding Nemo." On Friday, the Mariner docked us on the last port of our cruise, the island of Cozumel in Mexico. After disembarking our ship, we were immediately directed onto this super-sleek looking ferry that would take us to Playa de Carmen. Oh, don't let the mission statement of Mexico Waterjets fool you. They certainly got us to Playa de Carmen in a timely manner, but not without making the best of us (who, by the way have BEEN on a cruise ship now for over 5 days) absolutely sea-sick. It was not a pretty site, let me tell you.

But I digress. This particular shore excursion was the one reason that my parents picked this exact cruise itinerary. It was the ability to spend the afternoon at a well-known Mayan Ruin, Tulum. We had an awesome tour guide, Saul, who is half-Mayan and half-European. (That was the first of many things that I learned that day ... that the Mayan people are quite alive and continuing to practice their traditions. Kinda made me feel silly, thinking that the Mayans were an extinct civilization). Once we got to the ruins, he took us on a rather quick walking tour of the site and gave us a brief history of what the ruins were used for (mostly a spiritual site with sacred temples). Afterwards, we were told to walk the ruins at our own leisure. I would have loved to spend the time walking around and reading all the different signs which would explain what each building was meant for ... however, the minute Saul was finished with his part, the skies apparently decided to open up and let the flood gates open. Of all days, this was the day Hubby & I decided not to bring a change of clothes or towels, as we weren't expecting to go swimming. But hey ... we also weren't expecting that there would be a beautiful beach at the Tulum Ruins either.

So since we were already soaked to the bone, we decided to head down to the shore and stick our feet in the sea. Let me tell you, not only was the beach and the sea absolutely breathtaking during the storm, but the water was incredibly warm and inviting! So after we "swam," we figured we needed to find something to help us dry off. And that's why we are now proud owners of a hand-made Mexican blanket. (I'm pretty darn sure we would have never bought one if we didn't find it necessary.) We then headed back onto the ferry (dreading every moment of it) and was shuttled back to our ship. We would have loved to do some shopping back in Cozumel, but unfortunately we didn't have enough time before our ship was to leave port.

The last day of our cruise was spent at sea, taking us back to Port Canaveral. I liked the itinerary of this cruise mainly because it sandwiched 4 days at different ports between 2 days at sea. That way you had time to get into "vacation mode" before spending 4 hectic days on each stop. And then you have the last day to unwind and relax before heading back home. A few more notes before I finally end this long blog post. • Hubby & I cracked up when we saw the day of the week placed on the carpet of the elevator on the ship. I mean really ... why would they spend the time to change the day on the carpet every day? Well, we found out midway through our cruise that we DID start losing track of the days. (Now THAT's a vacation!!) • The food on the cruise was absolutely fantastic! The only "complaint" I had was that the chefs MUST put something in our food to make us hungry all the time. I mean, seriously. Two hours after eating this incredibly HUGE Thanksgiving meal, I was once again starved and ended up trying get my hands on as many chocolate-covered strawberries during the midnight buffet. (BTW, best Thanksgiving EVER ... didn't have to cook OR clean!) • Our waiter, Francis and his assistant, Chouzyu (sp?), were wonderful. After a couple days, they both just seemed to know exactly what and when we needed certain things. Oh ... and the fact that they supplied us with endless desserts always made my dinner all that much better. (One night, I swear, I couldn't decide which one of the three desserts I really wanted ... and then next thing I knew, Francis was bringing me ALL THREE of them. I swear, it was my wildest "dessert-lover's dream" come true!) • And Dad ... I love you to death. But next time, ask us before you go out and buy FOUR cartons of duty-free cigarettes to bring back home ... especially since you're only allowed one carton ... and ask us to claim the other two cartons. Next time, I really WON'T hesitate to flush them down the toilet. Okay. I guess I best be wrapping up this post. I think I've made it long enough. But hey ... I can't help it. I'm seriously still on "vacation mode." In fact, I REALLY want this feeling to last as long as I can. Yeah, yeah ... I can just hear you all saying "Quit it. Stop now. Jamaican me crazy!!" If you're interested in seeing more pics of our trip, click on the album below.

Caribbean Cruise 2007

Gratuities Not Accepted

Emily — Wed, 05 Dec 2007 04:55:00 +0000

When Hubby & I visited the Tulum Mayan Ruins, I have to admit that I hope it would be a mystical or magical experience. And in many ways, with the incredible rain storm we encountered, it was. Saul, our half-Mayan tour guide, gave us a little "tip" just before he sent us on our way to explore the ruins. He told us that at some point during our time at the ruins, we should close our eyes and open our minds and we would experience the exactly how sacred and spiritual this site was to the Mayan people. So as we're walking in the midst of this downpour of rain and as we're wading in the warm sea at the Tulum beach, all I kept thinking about was how special it would be if, indeed, something wonderful would happen. And as Hubby & I get ready to exit the ruins, we closed our eyes and opened our minds. Now honestly, the only sound we could here was the rain steadily falling and the crowds of people chattering around us trying to stay dry. But me? I hung on to the hope that perhaps this special ground would prove to be "fertile" for us. In fact, I already had the name "Maya" picked out if I did become pregnant with a daughter. This past Saturday, my hopes of a miracle pregnancy were once again dashed. And while it doesn't sting so badly as it has over the past ten years, it still hurts. (And I do mean "hurt." Damn those cramps and bloating and the feeling of being "off-balance." It's sucks that this monthly "symbol" of womanhood just reminds me of what a failure I am in that department. But I digress ...) Now I probably would have just picked myself up and chalked that dream of a miracle conception as yet another one of my silly attempts to bring hope into my life. But then I watched the movie "Waitress." Which, as I think of it now, was probably not a good idea to watch, especially in the "hormonal" state of mind I was on Saturday.

The premise of "Waitress" is that of a waitress (Jenna) who has this incredible talent of making such wonderful and uniquely-named pies. She is married to a husband who is very jealous and controlling. Jenna's biggest dream is to win a pie-baking contest with a $25,000 award so that she can leave her husband and find happiness by owning her own pie shop. But then Jenna finds out she's pregnant. And suddenly she finds herself having an affair with the new married OB-Gyn in town. And then she feels as if she's stuck in this loveless and unhappy and unsatisfied life. (Now, if you're wanting to watch this movie, I suggest you skip the following paragraph and move on to the next. There really isn't any major spoiler to this movie, but if you're like me ... I'd hate it if someone ruined the whole movie-watching experience by telling me exactly what happens in the end.) * Throughout the movie, Jenna starts to write these letters to her unborn baby. The letters start out sounding bitter and angry and even at one point, pretty hostile (in my opinion) and resentful of having to carry this child and then have to spend the rest of her life unhappy because of this child. Even as she's in the delivery room, you can clearly tell that she still does not want anything to do with this child. It wasn't until her baby girl was placed into her arms that she finally found both love and happiness. But not only that, she found the strength and confidence within herself to divorce her husband, end the affair with her doctor, and open her own pie shop. * So why, after watching this movie, did I find myself overwhelmed with emotions? And why did I find myself yet again crying uncontrollably in Hubby's arms? The most obvious emotion I felt was the anger and jealousy towards the main character. Jenna is pregnant and I'm not. Throughout the movie she voices how she doesn't want to be pregnant and she doesn't want to be tied down with an unwanted baby. And here I am wanting to go through pregnancy and definitely wanting to have a baby. How can I not feel anger and resentment after years of not being able to fulfill my dream of starting a family?

Less obvious, was the empathy I felt towards Jenna. Here she is, living in a situation that she is trying to change, but for one reason (a controlling husband) or another (her unexpected pregnancy) things keep her from changing it. It's similar to the way that I've felt about my infertility. Since marrying my best friend, what I've always wanted ... what I always dreamt about ... was having a family. I wanted to become a parent to children that I would love and cherish and raise to hopefully be smart and successful adults. That was my dream, my wish, my goal in life. And yet, everything Hubby & I had done under the sun to create a biological child of our own was unsuccessful. In that sense, I felt "stuck" in a situation that I couldn't change, just as Jenna felt "stuck." I couldn't create a child, let alone sustain any pregnancy, that was both a part of me and my husband. I'd never know if certain traits (like the shape our child's nose or his/her smile) was more like my husband or me. It's those things that I cannot change. And it's certainly those things that make me feel my sadness a little more deeply. As I watched the ending of the movie (no, no spoilers here), I just felt so unfulfilled. Which was totally the opposite of what Jenna was feeling. It's not that I'm unhappy with my life ... no, that's not the case. Because I certainly do have a ton of happiness and a lot to be thankful for in my life ... the number one thing of which is a completely loving, devoted, and overall awesome husband/best friend. It's just that the dream I have (the one with the white picket fence, the tall tree with a tire swing holding all of our kids, and the front yard that overlooks the ocean) seems like it's exactly that ... just a dream. And I know that I still have that opportunity to make that dream into reality. And I know exactly what my next step is going to be. In a few days (when this blessed monthly event is over), I will pick myself up and resurface from this fog of sadness. But today, right now ... I honestly just want to pull myself under the covers and sleep.

It's the Most _____ Time of the Year

Emily — Fri, 14 Dec 2007 20:45:00 +0000

Hubby at a local bookstore wearing an Emily knitted creation

Fill in the blank: A) Wonderful B) Stressful C) Overwhelming D) Heart-breaking Trick question. Actually it's all of the above. Don't get me wrong. I do love the holiday season. There is definitely something magical in the air this time of the year. But then there's the feeling of being completely overwhelmed by what needs to be done before Christmas Eve. There's putting up the decorations (still not done), sending out Christmas cards (uh, yeah ... also not done), shopping for gifts (not even a third done), and then wrapping all the gifts (not even close). If that's not overwhelming enough, then the thought of heading out to the local mall to do some shopping is enough to send me over the edge in the stress department. Ugh. Just trying to find a parking spot gets my (already high) blood pressure rising. And then some people are just absolutely rude when you're in the stores. I'm not talking about the salespeople either, if you catch my drift. However outside of any type of shopping area, people are actually very friendly, very giving and very much in the holiday spirit. In fact, I actually enjoy going into work during this time of the year for multiple reasons (one of which I will explain a little later), especially because all the Christmas decorations are all up and there's always Christmas music playing in our main foyer. Our department tends to do little holiday things, like "Secret Santa's," and ornament exchanges and even cube-decorating contests. Not to mention the constant stream of goodies that come in from different vendors each day. And if going to work doesn't get me in the mood, then certainly my husband does. He absolutely loves Christmas time. I think it's mainly because it's the time of the year that very much reflects his personality. He is so absolutely a giving person. He loves to give gifts to people and doesn't expect anything in return. The reason he likes to do this is mostly to see what their reactions would be to each present that's opened; especially because he puts a lot of thought into each gift. I know. I've been the receiver of such gifts for many many years ... he's always been an awesome shopper when it comes to me. And because he has such a wonderful outlook on the holiday season, you can't help but be affected by his attitude.

Strange Guy (holding a Santa) on a Suburban Detroit Street Corner

But then there's me. Always Mrs. Pessimistic. Seriously, I don't think I was always like this. But as I've alluded to in past posts, I believe that experiences in my life have taught me to be this way. Up until last holiday season, I would remember feeling very tentative and anxious as Christmas would approach. It's because Christmas, like any other major event or holiday throughout the year would remind me exactly what I was missing in my life. Every birthday would remind me that I was yet another year older and that another year had past where I didn't reach my goal of becoming a mom. My wedding anniversary was a reminder that I still didn't have that family that I dreamt about on the day I got married. And let's not even get into the whole "Hallmark Holidays," like Mother's Day and Father's Day. Christmas has always been especially difficult. I believe it's because this holiday is all about children and family. (Yes Mom, my good Catholic school girl background DOES know that "Jesus is the reason for the Season." But this is different ... ) It's the time of year where children's faces brighten with the thought of Santa and of presents. And the time of year when plans are made to reunite with both immediate and/or distant family members to celebrate. I have fond memories of Christmas Eve as a child, excited to be with cousins and exchanging presents with loved ones. I think it's only natural to want to continue to do the same thing the older you get. You want to experience making those memories with your own children. You want to see the faces of wonder and joy in their eyes as they see the Christmas tree brimming with presents and their stockings stuffed with goodies. The problem with being infertile is that you don't have those kids. And when spending time with your family (as well as your husband's), you can't help but associate the holidays with some bittersweet emotions. Last Christmas was incredibly difficult. Truth be told, I totally dreaded the whole season to the point where I didn't even want to put up our tree. I purposely did not take time off from work during the holidays and volunteered to cover the assignments for those that did take time off just so I could keep myself busy. I threw myself into knitting presents for family members to distract me from the fact that I would be facing all of my husband's family who would be so excited about his sister's pregnancy. It wasn't until December 23rd that my patient and wonderful husband convinced me to decorate our tree in order to get me in the holiday spirit (which, of course, worked like a charm. Smart hubby ... ).

Our Kitty Cat, Rain. Doesn't she look thrilled to be wearing a Santa Hat?

So this holiday season, especially with all that happened this past year, I'm trying to change my outlook on things. Rather than be pessimistic, I'm trying to be cautiously optimistic. I'm taking what I've learned over the last year and trying to think positive. And although I'm still stressed (still have shopping to do) and overwhelmed (maybe those cards aren't getting mailed this year) with what still needs to be done, I am going to remember that Christmas IS supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

Twas the Week After Christmas

Emily — Sat, 29 Dec 2007 05:40:00 +0000

So it's been a couple of weeks since I last posted. But believe me, it's only because the past weeks have been hectic, especially with the holidays. I mean, it's gotta tell you something about my general lack of time (or energy) if Hubby & I didn't even bother to send out any Christmas cards, let alone put up our Christmas tree, this year. However, unlike last year (when I didn't even want to celebrate the season), it's more because I simply ran out of time.

A Picture of all the hats I made

The weeks leading up to Christmas was spent trying to get some shopping done amidst trying to organize all of the knitted and crocheted hats my co-workers and I made for for premie babies and chemo kids. If you can believe it, we donated over one hundred-twenty hats to the local hospital... the very one my nephew, Liam, spent all his days at. I invited my SIL along to drop of the hats at the hospital on the Friday before Christmas. We visited the NICU and delivered the hats along with a sweet treat for the nurses that my SIL brought. After all, the whole meaning behind making the premie caps was to honor my nephew. I hope that we did him justice. And I truly hope that it helped my SIL to start closing this sad chapter in her life. At least that was my intent when I invited her that day. In any case, this project of mine certainly kept me busy enough ... but it truly helped me get into the giving spirit of which is Christmas.

Aren't we cute?

Hubby & I managed to spend the weekend before Christmas wrapped up in our own little "bubble." And while the majority of it was spent buying those last minute gifts and then boxing and wrapping every single one of those presents, we still managed to find time to spend precious time to celebrate Christmas and exchange our gifts together. Every year, that precious time together is all important for the two of us. Especially (as I mentioned in a previous post) since we know that the next few days is going to be spent with family. This year, instead of our usual Christmas Eve madness (both of our families tend to celebrate the Eve instead of the Day), my in-laws planned on doing lunch on Christmas Day so we weren't feeling so rushed. And my side was planning on going to midnight mass on the Eve and then open gifts afterwards. However as usual, my side decided to change things at the last minute (or at least not tell me until the last minute) and celebrate lunch on Christmas Day instead.

And Tyler just LOVES his gifts

And with that said, I do have to thank God that my in-laws are pretty accomodating; because they did, at the last minute, change their celebration to dinnertime. It was a low-key event at their house this year, as many of his family that live in our area was out of town. But nonetheless, it's always fun watching my nephew, Tyler, getting excited as he opens his gifts. Lucky boy this year got a PS2 from Santa with some new games and toys from us. Since his old GameCube no longer make new games, he was so happy to get a new system with new games that he didn't want to let go of them despite the fact that he was getting tired.

My Dad's side of my Family

My side of the family spent lunch time on Christmas Day at my Aunt's house. I have to say that I was really looking forward to it because it was going to be the first time in a long time that all of my Dad't brothers and sisters (along with many, but not all, of their kids) were going to be together in the same room. I have to honestly give props to my younger cousins for putting this together as (knowing how lovingly dysfunctional my family can be) none of this would have been planned without them. And I also have to give credit to my older cousin who came up with the idea to put together a photo album of all of the cousins throughout the year to present as a Christmas gift to our grandmother. It turned out to be a hit with not only my grandmother, but with all our parents, who didn't know we were putting it together.

The photo collage on the front of my Grandmother's Gift

So that's the story of our Christmas this year. I honestly had a wonderful time this year, as compared to last year. And spending time with my cousins was probably the highlight of the holiday. That, and of course, the wonderfully awesome gifts that my dear Hubby got me. To see more pictures of our holidays, check out my album:

Christmas 2007

Dropping the Ball

Emily — Tue, 01 Jan 2008 03:45:00 +0000

NYC Times Square on New Years Eve

So I'm sitting in the basement of my in-laws house ceremoniously waiting for the Times Square Waterford Crystal Ball to drop. This has become an annual event for me, especially after having married into this family. Typically, it's a house full of aunts and uncles and cousins running around doing anything and everything. I do recall many-a-New Year's karaoke-ing and/or playing the latest PS2 games we got for Christmas. (This year, it's the new Guitar Heroes III for the Wii ... woo-hoo!) However, this year is a little more subdued. First of all, many family members are now located in other parts of the US. Second of all, many of the cousins are a bit older in age which means that many of us have made other plans or have other obligations. But the main reason this year is pretty quiet is because this past Christmas, my husband's grandmother was admitted to the ICU in Virginia. She's been in and out of the hospital since Thanksgiving, but this latest episode has been the most severe. In fact, Hubby & I were pretty worried about her that we made the 12-hour trip to visit her and spend time with Hubby's aunt to hopefully give her a little moral support. We were told she was pretty alert even after her emergency surgery, but by the time we visited her she was already heavily sedated. We spent this past weekend there and unfortunately there wasn't much change in her condition by the time we left yesterday morning.

The New Waterford Crystal New Years Eve Ball

As of this evening, we are told she is more awake and is doing well. She's still in critical condition, but it appears she has taken a step forward towards getting better. We are all hoping and praying that she keeps moving forward. And we're also hoping and praying that all her doctors, nurses and caregivers stay sharp ... because the only ball we want to see dropping is that Times Square Ball. Let's hear it for 2008 ... may we be stronger, healthier and happier than we were in 2007.

"PS I Love You" ... and Other Emotions

Emily — Thu, 10 Jan 2008 23:38:00 +0000

I love the book, "PS I Love You" by Cecilia Ahern. I picked it up used at the local B&N a few years ago, just in time to bring it with me to our trip to Seattle. And as I was sitting on the plane reading the book, I would need to dig through my purse just to find a napkin or a piece of tissue paper just to wipe all the fallen tears. It was THAT good of a book for me. When I found out that they were making the book into a movie ... let alone starring Hilary Swank, playing the lead character, Holly Kennedy ... I had my apprehensions. First of all, the book was supposed to be based in Ireland and yet the movie is in NYC. Second, it was starring Hilary Swank. Don't get me wrong ... she's awesome in any of her Academy Award performances, but I just didn't see her playing Holly. What got me to the theater instead, was them darn trailers. That and seeing that not only Denny (from Grey's Anatomy) was in it, but Gerard Butler (King Leonides from "300") was playing the husband. Yum. (Yes, along with Johnny Depp ... I have a sick fascination for certain celebs.) One weekend, I dragged Hubby to the theater to see it. And honestly, although there are parts of the movie that aggrevated me, I did like the movie. It certainly does not follow the plot exactly to the specifications of the book (I mean, really ... what book-to-film movie ever does ...), but it highlights much of the same core emotions that got me in the book. There's one scene in particular that totally got me. It's one of those rare situations where seeing it on film right in front of you is ten times better than reading the book. (If you're wanting to see the movie and/or read the book, I suggest you skip the next two paragraph.)

* At this point in the movie, Holly is on a weekend trip with her girlfriends, all set up and paid for by her husband prior to his death. Her one friend just confessed that she was finally getting married. Her other friend also confesses that she's (finally) pregnant. The look on Holly's face said it all. While she was happy for them, she couldn't help but be sad for herself. Then after the initial "Yay! We're so excited about the news in our lives!" the subject was suddenly and akwardly dropped. What's more is later, Holly overhears her friends in the other room still overly excited about each other's announcement and hears them planning for the next stage in their lives. It was nonstop chatter, while Holly stood there just looking utterly sad and alone. * At that point in the movie, I just completely lost it. Tears were streaming down my face while Hubby held me tight. I turned to him at that point and said, "I know exactly how she feels." And I totally did. It's that feeling of emptiness inside of me. That black hole that some days I think will never be filled up. And in certain circumstances, the more happiness other people have in their lives, the deeper I feel like climbing into that big black abyss and just not resurfacing until all the excitement dies down. It's not because I'm being selfish (as later on in the movie, it was pointed out to Holly that she acting that way ... pissed me off, too. Grrr ...) or that I'm not happy for the other person. It's not even jealousy that drives me to feel that way. It's the feeling that I should be able to have some of that happiness too. That I'm entitled to have those type of exciting moments in my life as well. Yes, I can hear people say ... "Well, you can't just expect happiness to happen. You have to make those moments happen for yourself." And that's where I say to that person, "What makes you think that I haven't tried?" I have put myself through everything possible to become pregnant with my Hubby & my biological child. I have had enough procedures to "clear" me out to last me a lifetime. I have suffered through months of poking myself with needles to help create the "optimum conditions" to impregnate me. I have dealt with month after month after years of hope at the beginning of my cycle followed by failure at the end of my cycle. I suffered the ultimate blow with my one failed attempt at IVF. I feel I have spent enough time and money and emotions of trying to get to that happiness. And yet here I am, barren and still childless.

So don't tell me that I haven't tried to create that biological child of mine ... that exciting moment I've been wanting for the past ten-plus years. And don't tell me that I'm being selfish for feeling as angry as I do at those times. And please please PLEASE don't say to me, "Well, you could always adopt." The truth is, we are looking into that option, but I still need to grieve the fact that I cannot produce my own biological child. And I will never know what it's like to be pregnant. And I will never know what it's like to breast-feed. The fact that I won't be able to even announce to our family and friends that Hubby & I are pregnant is enough to grieve. So please allow me have those moments of sadness and anger about my childless situation. And please, even though I find it difficult to talk about ... push me to do so. Because, while it's ten times easier to write or blog about it, sometimes having the physical human touch behind it makes me feel less alone and more loved. PS Thanks for letting me vent.

Is It Cold? Or Is It Just Me?

Emily — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 22:52:00 +0000

I picked up this nervous habit over the last year. At first I thought it may have been a side effect of one of the new medications I started, but then I realized that I would only do it when I was feeling anxious. I've actually learned to take that habit as a sign of when I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed. When it does happen, I've learned to pause for a few seconds to take a deep breath and calm myself down. But since our first trip to Virginia Beach just before New Year's Eve, I feel like my jaw has been "shivering" uncontrollably. Yes, that's right. We made two trips to Virginia Beach in the span of two weeks to visit my husband's family. Unfortunately, the second trip was not a completely happy one, as my husband's grandmother (Nanay) passed away. It was great to see all the family gather together, but it was rather difficult to get through those days. During the 12-hour car rides to and from Virginia Beach, I managed to start on a crochet project for a coworker. She had asked me to make a hat and bootie set for a friend of hers who was expecting. And since I was on a roll with making all those premie caps at the time, I told her it would be no problem. And I do have to say that the finished product looked absolutely adorable.

Crocheted Hat & Bootie Set

I showed my husband my little creations the evening I finished them, proud of having tackled another pattern (the booties) that I've never done before. What I ended up seeing was this sad expression on his face. And the thing is, I knew exactly what he was thinking. That's because earlier in the day I found out that the latest celebrity news included yet another celebrity pregnancy ... this time it was that Matthew McConnaughy and his girlfriend were expecting and Matt was quoted as being "stoked." Of course the first thing I thought of when I heard that news was "Why-oh-why must I yet be tortured by another celebrity flaunting the fact that they can procreate while Hubby & I can't?" But then I kinda delved deeper into that thought and was imagining what my hubby might think when he heard that "Naked-pot-smoking-bongo-playing" man was going to be a father. I knew what I was feeling – that it wasn't fair and that I knew my husband would be an excellent father. I've known that ever since we first started dating because of how he was with his younger cousins, Mark & Mary. Watching him throughout the years interact with our nephew, Tyler, has been incredible. He has so much patience and love that it seems like such a damn waste that he can't use those same qualities on our own child. And what about the whole biological aspect of it? How was it like for him to know that he wouldn't be able to pass his genes on? Or even his name (he's a "Junior")? I imagined him going through all these different emotions, doubly intense now ... especially since his grandmother had just passed on. So as I saw my husband's sad expression that evening, I did the best I could by curling up next to him on our couch, listening to what he had to say. While he played with the tiny booties I crocheted, he said how those little booties made him sad that we didn't have our own child. And how strong he thought I was for making them, as he didn't know if he would be able to do the same thing for someone else. And how he wished that I could make it for our own child.

Hubby & Our Cousin's Daughter, Eva

He went on to explain that he felt that he wasn't getting any younger and that he wished that we were already parents. He also mentioned that with his health problems (along with mine) he was concerned over his own mortality. And that it was probably because of Nanay's death that he was feeling so sad. Since hubby doesn't readily talk about how he felt about our situation, at that moment I wished SO BADLY that I could make him feel better. And that we could change our situation immediately. If I could have snatched any baby off the street at that moment then I would have just to give my husband the ability to be a parent. As it was, that same night we got a phone call from one of best friends who's wedding we attended last July in Portland, OR. He's an incredibly wonderful friend who has always been there for us whenever we just needed to vent and to talk. He's the same guy who would bend over backwards to help us out if we were ever in a pinch. And he was calling to let us know that him and his wife were expecting. How's that for timing? If those two events in our life weren't unexpected enough, then the news that my SIL was pregnant was definitely a shocker. Although I do confess, I saw this one coming. It wasn't like the subject of having more children didn't come up after Liam passed away this past September. I guess I just didn't think it would happen ... I don't know ... so soon. But then again, my SIL has always been fertile. All the tell-tale signs were there. One event, in particular got me thinking about her. It started out with a conversation I had with my SIL just after New Year's Day. I told my SIL that I was a little worried about her; because during the holidays, she seemed really tired all the time and appeared withdrawn from the rest of the family. When we asked her to go with us to take our cousins from Toronto bowling, she kindly declined saying that she wasn't feeling too well. What I initially thought was that she was down in the dumps; especially since this would be the first major holidays without Liam. And I knew how messed up my emotions were during the previous Christmas. I just wanted to let her know that I was there for her if she needed me. What I was told then was that she was okay, and that she would tell me what was going on in "due time." I remember thinking at that exact moment, "She's pregnant." And in fact, later on that evening as I was relaying to Hubby our conversation I told him the same thing, that I thought his sister was pregnant. I just had THAT strong of a feeling. Anyway, my SIL and her husband sent a card to our house that arrived this past Friday which announced their news. It was a beautiful card that said that she wanted us to be the first to know as she knew how difficult the news of her last pregnancy affected me. I truly appreciate the effort that she put into the card and into the note that she had written inside of it, because it just showed me how much she truly cared about the sensitive nature of this topic.

Hubby & Our Godson, Jacob

Of course, that didn't stop me from saying to Hubby (in true Catherine Z-Jones in "High Fidelity"-fashion), "I knew it" over and over again. Nor did it stop my jaw from shivering uncontrollably that evening. Nor did it stop the tears from flowing later on that night (damn ... couldn't deep-breathe enough to calm myself down). But that's okay, because I know now what I didn't know just over a year ago last November. And that is that I am allowed to feel sadness for myself and for my husband. And I'm going to allow myself to feel whatever I want (sadness, anger, guilt, etc) for as long as I want. But I'm NOT going to let it take over my entire emotional being. So while Hubby & I are extremely happy for his sister and our "West-coast" friends (and even my HS friend who is also due this year), I think that the recent passing of Nanay has got us both thinking of our mortality ... and even our legacy. What ARE we going to leave behind for others? Who will we be able to pass our legacies on to when we die? We're both not getting any younger and I admit that I'm terrified that the life I have been given has been utterly futile. Especially since I'm infertile and all that I've ever wanted was to be a good role-model, a parent to a child who I would be able to pass my lifeline on to. So ... with that said, the time has come for Hubby & me to start moving forward. SMALL "baby" steps forward (why does that phrase strike me as rather funny, right now?), may I say. We've talked about adoption being our next step. We know it's the only next step. We've done a little research in the past and, quite honestly I think I was too overwhelmed with everything to fully process. So now, I've got to start up that research again. And maybe look into other options such as domestic adoption. I'm downright terrified to move forward, but I know that for our sake ... I must. And maybe ... just maybe ... I can get this damn jaw to stop shivering.

"Exit Game or Continue?"

Emily — Wed, 23 Jan 2008 17:55:00 +0000

The news of my SIL's latest pregnancy had got me thinking about second chances. Not that becoming pregnant four months after Liam passed away is anything but a "second chance." I mean, I know that no one or nothing is ever going to replace the love that she has for Liam. But I do have to say, she is very lucky to be able to have another child. And she is truly blessed to be given an opportunity to "reset" her course in life. I truly hope and pray that this pregnancy is much more smoother than her pregnancy with Liam. I just wish that with infertility, there was also a way to have some sort of "second chance." Sure, there is always the ability to go through more procedures and take more medications in order to assist with procreation. But that isn't my point. I wish there was a way that I could clear out my tubes, fluff up my uterus, and pump up my ovaries ... all at the touch of a button. Kinda like a reset button on any game system like the Nintendo Wii or Playstation. But it doesn't work like that, does it? It's not that simple. With going through any ART (assisted reproductive therapy), it's a matter of deliberation & discussion, finances and timing. What's the best procedure out there for you? Can you afford to do any of these procedures (as many states still do not mandate insurance companies to pay for certain ART procedures)? Where are you at during this time in your life ... in other words, can you afford to take the time off from work to follow the strict regimen and timing of your cycles? And let's not even get into the discussion of adoption ... okay, well yeah ... I guess I will because that, too, requires a lot of deliberation, discussion and finances. I can tell you from my current emotional status of taking baby steps towards adoption that it's overwhelming. International vs. Domestic? Both of them are very different types of programs with different set of rules. International programs include so many different countries with so many different government regulations. Domestic adoptions have their own separate nuances: open vs. semi-open? Or basically, how involved do you want the birth family to be with your child? Then of course, there's always the thought that maybe the birth parents might change their minds. Either way, it's incredibly terrifying to me to think of how much scrutiny that Hubby & I will be under with whichever program we decide on. Really, I guess with the whole adoption thing (since I know that this is my next step), I wish there was a way to NOT go through the whole Home Study portion of it. My cultural background as as Asian-American has always leaned towards being more of a private person. We're not apt to open up so quickly in front of complete strangers. (Now, on line or blogging ... different story, for me anyway.) I know the logical reason WHY this needs to be done; it's obviously for the protection of the prospective child that we might adopt. But then the one thought that keeps running in my mind is that if I was pregnant with my OWN biological child, I wouldn't be under such scrutiny. That's when I REALLY wish I could hit that reset button. So given all that's involved and all that I have been through with ART, I have to say I am actually pretty amazed I chose to "Continue" on this crazy infertility game rather than choosing to "Exit" or quit. I just hope I continue to have the energy to keep moving forward.

About Apron Strings

Emily — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 01:18:14 +0000

“Apron Strings” by Everything But The Girl has been a song that has been part of my life since I was in high school. The first time I ever heard it was by listening to the soundtrack for the John Hughes film, “She’s Having A Baby.” Not that I really liked that particular movie, but John Hughes, in my humble opinion, always had a knack for picking such great songs for any of his films.

It’s funny how “Apron Strings,” as a song has always been part of my life. First, during one autumn season in high school where I played that song over and over again. Then, as I began to fall in love with my husband one spring day during a trip to Ann Arbor my senior year in high school. And finally as I have struggled emotionally over the past ten years with infertility. My husband came up with the name of the blog, I think, strictly on the fact that he knew that this was probably my most favorite song in the world. What he didn’t expect was that this blog and that song would be pretty much the running theme for what I “needed” to blog about. I’ve had people ask me why I decided to name my blog “Apron Strings,” as the common reference to actual apron strings is about either being tied to one or needing to be cut from one. For me, the song “Apron Strings” is all about longing. When put in context with infertility, it becomes specifically a longing for a child. If you haven’t had a chance to read the lyrics to the song, feel free to read it here. Then let me know what you think.

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Update 02.11.2010: To see what new meaning this song has taken for me in our decision to live child-free, click here.

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Scrambled, Over-Easy, or Sunny-Side Up?

Emily — Fri, 25 Jan 2008 11:10:00 +0000

Is it strange that I find the whole "Eggs-In-One-Basket" idiom rather humorous, given the whole infertility situation? I mean, seriously. I think, and correct me if I'm wrong here, that most women going through infertility have this tendency to literally put all their eggs in a "basket". We have to find a way to put our "trusty" (or not so trusty) eggs in front of the male counterpart in order to procreate. But we all know that's not as easy as it seems. Hubby & I have been trying for ten-plus years and it's pretty evident that I haven't replaced the basket with a bassinet. So where am I going with this post? Hubby & I had an interesting conversation about personality traits a little over a month ago. We happened to be discussing international vs. domestic adoption and I happened to bring up some worries I had about domestic adoption. It was about how I was afraid that perhaps we wouldn't be readily chosen by a birth mother as I couldn't think of one instance where a couple who are both of Asian-descent were able to adopt domestically. (Okay, seriously. That's a valid fear, isn't it?! Help ... I need some reassurance that I'm not being silly in thinking this.) Then I doubled back and said, "I know, I'm just being pessimistic again." Hubby responded saying that I wasn't necessarily a pessimistic person. Rather I was a "put all your eggs in one basket"-type of person. In other words, when I have this idea in my mind ... I go at it at full-force, no turning back. And when I look back at my life, I can't say that Hubby's assessment of me is completely wrong. I used to think I was a pretty laid back person, who would exhibit a few Type-A personality traits given certain situations (school or work projects, etc). But I think that by getting on the infertility roller coaster, I became more of that person that Hubby described. To tell you the truth, I don't think I could have avoided becoming that type of person who places all my hopes and fears on a single idea or plan. In this case, it's in starting our family and raising children. How could I not be this way, given the monthly reminder and disappointment of yet another failed cycle? Now, others not going through infertility issues might respond to that by saying, "Well then, don't get your hopes up too high." In which I'd respond back to that by saying, "Would you tell a someone who has been diagnosed with cancer that?" It's not that simple. That is, not getting my hopes up. Or in this case, not placing all my eggs in a basket for whatever my next plan of action is. It's a way to pick myself up after each disappointment ... a way to move on. On the opposite end of the spectrum, placing all my fears in one single plan or idea can be debilitating. And I know that's the part that my Hubby was getting at during that conversation. If I kept thinking that the idea of domestic adoption was not going to work, then I wasn't going to even TRY to make it work. What I need to do is somehow find a way to find a bit of balance in my thinking. Find a way to be optimistic, yet cautious. Find a way to be hopeful, yet guarded. Find a way to put some eggs in the basket, and leave some eggs to grow so that other plans or ideas might hatch at a later date. Now, why am I suddenly craving Cracker Barrel breakfast?

The Post Where Emily Sees "Juno"

Emily — Sat, 26 Jan 2008 21:27:00 +0000

So. I did it. I took the leap and saw "Juno." After my last experience with watching "Waitress," I was very hesitant to see this movie. The thing is, other than the whole unwanted pregnancy (and the added domestic adoption piece to the film), I would have been jumping at the bit to see this movie. It just sounded so much like a movie that Hubby & I would enjoy immensely ... especially after having read about the critical praise it's been getting. And after sitting through the film (and surviving with my emotions relatively intact), I have three words to say about it. I. Loved. It. Sure there were moments where I bawled my eyes out like a baby. And there were times when I could feel Hubby squeezing my hand incredibly tight. And there were the moments when I caught Hubby giving me the good-old "sideways glance." But in the grand scheme of things, the movie was just that. A movie. To me there were two things that completely made the movie for me; the first of which was the writing. The story was just incredibly well-written – infused with the perfect balance of humor and emotion. The dialogue was smart and the story unfolded at the just the right pace. And the characters ... ah, the characters! Each of them ... well, except for one, in which I'll go into more detail later ... they were all well-developed with each role playing a specific purpose. (In my humble opinion, I just hate it when a character is introduced and then serves no value to the story, except maybe for eye candy.) Now, I have to preface myself before I tell you about the second reason that I fell in love with this movie. In my mind, I find an actor is extremely talented when I lose myself in the actor's character. For example, I love Johnny Depp. Not only do I think he's incredibly sexy, but I respect his talent in acting. I was so excited to see him in "Sweeney Todd," but knew that his character was not exactly "good-looking" like he was in, let's say, "Finding Neverland." Five minutes into the film, I lost track of the fact that "Sweeney Todd" was Johnny and was so immersed in the character. The same thing happened within the first minute of being introduced to "Juno." Ellen Page, the actress who played Juno, was just simply astounding. Juno is a very complex character. As Hubby put it, this was a girl who was young in her years but incredibly wise in knowing her limitations. She knew when she couldn't handle things. She knew how to be brave when she needed to be. What sixteen year old would truly know what to do given the situations that Juno was put it? Even moreseo, what 20 year old (like Ellen Page) would? Ellen Page gave off just the right temperament for her character. And to me, she certainly is deserving of the Academy Award Nomination she's just been given. If there's just one thing I would have changed in the movie, was the Vanessa Loring character, played by Jennifer Garner. She, for lack of better description, is the woman who wants to adopt Juno's unborn baby. Throughout the movie, the character comes off as a person who is very cold. She desperately wants to have a child and is simply portrayed as having a "one-tracked" mind. There are however, two scenes in this movie that I can completely relate to Vanessa. I won't spoil it for those of you that have yet to see the movie, but I do have to say that those two scenes were probably my most favorite of the film. Coincidentally, those were the same two scenes that I completely lost all sense of decorum. Like I told my Hubby, I'm not sure if the reason I didn't so much take to Jennifer Garner's character was because I was being way too critical of her. I know what I would have done in certain circumstances and I know exactly what I would be feeling if I was in her shoes. But maybe that's the reason why. I'm way too close to the subject matter in hand to look at it with unbiased opinion. Hubby brought up the point that perhaps the way the character was portrayed by Jennifer Garner came more from the director's vision of the film. That perhaps he (or she), like many others in this world, do not have a clue on the whole gamut of emotions an infertile goes through, and therefore the direction comes off as having the character played as cool, distant and controlling. (Which, of course, brought up another subject of how many other people in the world think that of us infertiles? Tyra Banks? Oprah Winfrey? The list could go on ... but I digress.) My only bone of contention is that I wish the movie delved deeper into the character of Vanessa Loring. I wish the film could have shown the rest of the world what it was like to want a child so badly. But in truth, this movie isn't about infertility. And to me, this story isn't even necessarily about teenage pregnancy. This is a story of an incredibly wise, smart and quirky teen called Juno. And that's what makes it a movie worth watching. Okay, so now I'm off to download the soundtrack for the movie on iTunes ...

When the Old-Fashion Way Isn't Working ... A Book Review

Emily — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 19:11:00 +0000

I'm finally living up to a promise that I made to DayzofRain. (Although I'm pretty sure that she thought I must have forgot about it!) But after over a month of nonstop holiday stuff, followed by the two untimely trips to Virginia Beach, I have finally completed the first of the two tasks I've been given. This post, to do a book review, is the second task. To tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure of the reason why DayzofRain specifically contacted me but I was truly honored to do so as I am an avid reader. Okay, so I mostly dig chick lit (sounds like chewing gum) but I do truly enjoy immersing myself in a good book. The book I was assigned to read was "Having a Baby... When the Old-Fasion Way Isn't Working: Hope and Help for Everyone Facing Infertility" by none other than the RESOLVE celebrity spokesperson, Cindy Margolis. For those of you who aren't familiar with RESOLVE, they are the nation's leading voice for women or men experiencing infertility. And for those not familiar with Cindy Margolis, she's a model and an ex-Baywatch girl who is also famous for being the "Most Downloaded Woman on the Internet." Now, I can almost hear those of you out there thinking, "How the HECK does a swimsuit actress/model end up becoming a spokesperson for RESOLVE and, to top it off, end up writing a book about infertility?!" Well, it's because she and her husband have experience in going through infertility; in fact they have almost 10 years of experience in this subject matter. After marrying her husband in 1998, Cindy and her husband, Guy, set out to start their family right away. Unfortunately it took 3 years, three failed IUI's along with three failed IVF's before bringing their son, Nicholas, into the world. It also took another one failed IVF and one surrogate pregnancy before adding biological twin daughters, Sierra and Sabrina, to their family. I, myself, first found out about Cindy Margolis' experiences in infertility a few years ago, before the birth of her twin daughters. One weekday on my day off from work (probably less than a year after my own failed IVF experience), I happened to be flipping through channels and stumbled onto a program on VH1, called "Cindy Margolis Inside Out." I had never paid attention to Cindy's career in the past, but when I heard her talking about her struggle with infertility, I put down the remote control and watched. The show documented the one IVF experience they went through as they tried to give Nicholas a sibling. I was fascinated and amazed that a celebrity would be out there letting the world know what it was like, emotionally and physically, to go through infertility and IVF. As it turns out, Hubby happened to call home during one of the commercial breaks just to check in. When I told him what I was watching, he told me that I probably shouldn't be watching that program. When I asked why, he simply said that it was better that I didn't. Well ... being the stubborn person I was, I ignored Hubby's warning and watched the rest of the program. Now, if you haven't put two and two together from the previous paragraph above, this program was documenting the one failed IVF attempt that they went through before deciding to go through surrogacy. And since I didn't heed Hubby's warning, I found myself crying inconsolably. So back in mid-December, DayzofRain asked me to read this book, I was excited to do so. Ever since seeing that VH1 program (which, coincidentally, I haven't seen since ... nor can I find much about it on the internet), I wanted to know what Cindy had to say and contribute about infertility and options. In the book, Cindy shares rather candidly her whole experience from trying to get pregnant, to being diagnosed with "unexplained infertility," to the emotional lows of failed ART procedures, to finally the emotional highs of finally becoming a family. And in between her own stories, she included other's experiences of success and failures in their attempt to have a baby. For me, reading all those stories and all the emotional roller coasters was simply validation that I was not as crazy as I thought I was. In addition to other people's experiences, she does include quite a bit of resources. At the end of each section, whether it be about finding a good RE to finding different agencies for surrogates or donor egg / sperm or adoption, she lists many organizations and their addresses/websites to contact with any questions or request for information. These lists are not all-inclusive, but they do provide a starting point for doing some research. On a personal level, the only thing I found lacking in this book was information on adoption. The book only includes one chapter of information on adoption to the six or so chapters devoted to various ways to have your own biological child (either through IVF, surrogacy, donor egg/sperm). It skims through the various programs (international vs domestic; open vs closed) over one page within that chapter. While that one chapter did have an inspiring story that deeply touched me, I wish there would have been more information. Especially information about getting through the grief of not being able to become pregnant, to sustain a pregnancy, or to have a biological child of your own. As Cindy's journey did not take her on the adoption route, I am sure that is one reason why there isn't much included in this book. Overall, the book is an easy read, especially for those that are pretty new to the infertility journey. The back of the book contains a glossary of the most basic ART terms as well as a recap of all the resources at the end of each section. For those that are "seasoned" in the quest for a baby, especially for those who are already in the process or have already gone through the various ART procedures, this book may be too simple. However, the personal stories (including the elusive male point of view as well as a surrogate mom's point of view) are enough to keep you interested in reading. So. There you have it. My homework is done. Just in time, because I was running out of excuses to make up for not doing it sooner. I can only use the excuse that "the cat used my paper as her litter box" for so long.

Tagged

Emily — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 01:53:35 +0000

So I was officially "Tagged" by kcmarie waaaay back at the end of December. I figured I probably should finally get around to doing it. Apparently there has been some "rules" that have been posted since I initially got tagged, so I figured I would add it to my post as well. The Rules:

Link to the person that tagged you.
Post the rules on your blog.
Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
Tag at least three people at the end of your post and link to their blogs.
Let each person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
Let the fun begin!

Ummmm ... Let's see. Six non-important quirks about me.

I brush my teeth with my left hand. Which would not be any big deal except that I'm right-handed in everything else. I've tried switching hands many times, but for some reason I always revert subconsciously to my left hand.
I always have to sleep with one foot, preferably the right (told you I was a righty), outside of the blanket. Even if I'm lying on the side, I always have to have a foot out. It could be freezing cold in our bedroom to the point that my head is even under the covers, but I absolutely have to keep one foot on the outside. I'm not quite sure the reason why, but it's just something I have always done. Sometimes I think that my mind is telling me that I must always be ready to move or get up at the spur of the moment.
Back in high school, I was nicknamed the "Human Jukebox" because I would always know the words to any song. Friends would spit out two words to a song and I would literally know what song they were talking about. Unfortunately, that "talent" faded once I got into college because suddenly my mind had to be filled with the other "useful" knowledge it was supposed to contain in order for me to graduate with my Nursing degree. Apparently though, my "talent" has started to resurface because I'm suddenly being approached by co-workers who say I should be on that new TV show where I'm supposed to complete the lyrics. Yikes! I'd have too much stage fright!
Speaking of high school, I was voted "Class New-Waver." I mean, come ON! How 80's could that get?! Personally, I would have thought that I would have been "Class Goth" if there was ever that category back then. But then again, we're talking Catholic school here. I guess it was because even back then, I only wore black (Thank God no uniforms in high school at that time!) and supposedly listened to what was considered "alternative music" back then. Seriously though, I think God got back at me for wearing all that black in high school, because once I got into the Nursing program in college all I was allowed to wear was white. Grrr ...
I took piano lessons for close to ten years when I was young. I loved playing the piano, but I hated the lessons. Probably because I never was able to really "read" the notes as quickly as you would think someone taking lessons for that long would. Instead, I had a tendency to read the notes slowly, learn the "melody," and then memorize it so I knew when something "sounded" wrong when I played it. It used to drive my piano teacher INSANE. What I wish I would have known then was that there was a specific method of teaching piano, called the Suzuki Method, that relied mostly on listening to a song over and over again in order to learn the tune. Then I might have found another instructor and might have continued taking lessons.
I'm not a particularly active or "fit" person, but I love watching any type of sports. I think it comes from living in a city that has all the major pro-sports teams (hockey, baseball, basketball, football) and great universities with good sports programs. Hubby & I are BIG University of Michigan Football Fans and are actually pretty lucky to have season tickets every year. The funny thing is that Hubby actually is a U of M alumni, but do you think that we EVER went to any of the football games when he actually attended the university? Nope. In fact, I never had any inkling that Hubby was a sports nut until after we were married. Which is when I really started getting into sports. Never thought I'd see the day when I actually knew what the referee's hand signals actually meant ...

So that's it about me. Six quirky things you never wanted to know. I guess this is where I'm supposed to tag other people. Oh geez, I don't have THAT big a circle of friends, but I'll tag hope548, courtney rose, and sheila. Good luck, gals!!

Chances in H-E-double-hockey-sticks

Emily — Wed, 30 Jan 2008 21:27:37 +0000

Today I am feeling … sad. I shouldn't be. It's my day off from work and I've only got two more days until another weekend. It's my Mom's birthday, and although she & Dad are in Aruba for a week of fun, I'm wishing that she's having a wonderful sand n' sun kinda day. And it's bright as bright can be here in Suburban Detroit. But it's cold … really cold right now. And maybe that's what I'm missing today. Is warmth. I want to be back in bed in my cozy pajamas snuggling with both my cats on either side of me. I want a steaming hot cup of cocoa with marshmallows to sip on. I want to flip randomly through the television and finally settle on turning it off and reading a good happy book. Instead I'm sitting here at a local cafe, which normally I like to do, and freezing my tush off. And contemplating my life. I just got back from my OB/Gyn office and I guess I'm feeling a little oversensitive. The reason I went today was to have an ultrasound. I had made an appointment to see my doc last week, in the midst of yet another painful period, which have been increasing in intensity over the past year. The ultrasound scheduled today was to see whether or not my endometriosis was back. And truthfully, even without having my doc review the images, I pretty much know that it is. I know I haven't gone into detail about my infertility past. I do that purposefully, because quite frankly I hate reliving that point of my life. But the basic jist is that I've had multiple scopes and even a laparotomy to clear out some pretty bad endo … only to find out that in the midst of my IVF work-up that I also had PCOS. So not only am I in pain pretty much with every cycle, but my hormones are seriously whacked-up. (Why do I have the urge to cross my arms like Rev. Run from Run DMC and say "Word!"?) And after the failed IVF and subsequent decision NOT to go through a frozen cycle with only one embie, I just drifted into a haze until that fateful day in November of 2006. I know I'm a much better person emotionally now, especially since starting to blog about these issues. And I know that I've taken that small baby step forward towards the adoption front. But yet ... Is it normal to still feel like a failure? That after ten years my body is still refusing to do what it's told? I cycle every month now … every 27 days like clockwork. And every month it's a constant reminder that this body refuses to become pregnant. And to top it off, it's not just a physical reminder ... it's very much a painful "Geez, I can't even think straight, let alone stand up straight or lie down without feeling the cramps"- kinda reminder. I find out the actual results two weeks from now. And from there, it's a decision of whether or not I'll be treated medically or surgically. My doc does not want to start out surgically to clear out the endo, as there is always the risk of creating adhesions (or scarring). What he would like to do is either put me on Lupron for a period of time, or place me on birth control pills. And I'm hesitant to do either. If you can believe this, during my whole "reproductive life," I have never been on the pill. And quite honestly, I don't feel like starting on it now … some 25 years after having my first period. As for Lupron, I hate what it did to me the first time around. While I don't think I was a raving lunatic during those six months, I do think I was emotionally detached from everything and everyone (including Hubby) around me. There's a part of me that thinks, "Just take the damn things out already!" I mean, they're not doing the job they're supposed to be doing anyway. I'm just about at the point where I don't want to have to deal with the pain anymore, both physically and emotionally. I don't want to have to be reminded every month that I can't get pregnant. I want to say that I've been able to close that chapter in my life – and by having my reproductive organs removed, it would certainly make that final. I would never be able to get pregnant and I would never have to think "what if ..." But then … I guess it boils down to the fact that I know I probably don't have a chance in H-E-double-hockey-sticks, but I still want to know I have the option to become pregnant. After all, my Aunt who tried for many years to get pregnant finally had her dream come true naturally some 20 years after getting married. And by that timeline, I'm more than half-way there.

Snow Day

Emily — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 00:35:36 +0000

Apparently the southeastern portion of Michigan is supposed to be slammed with a major winter storm tonight. It's supposed to start around midnight and last until 7 pm tomorrow night. It's about 7:30 pm and as I look outside the window, there's not a snowflake to be seen. What gets me is that I wish this storm could have happened on Sunday night for Monday. This year, it seems like Mother Nature gets her kicks in sending a wintery blast our way just before or right on the weekend. I just wish for once that a storm would happen during the first half of the week so that I could have a work "snow day." Remember snow days in school? It was so exciting to stay up the night before hoping and praying that it would snow enough so that they would cancel school. I do recall doing the "Snow Dance" with my brother in the middle of our living room to help bring on a storm. And then we'd wake up earlier than normal just so we could turn on the TV to see if our school was listed on the morning newscast as being closed. There was only a handful of times we were disappointed to see that the surrounding school districts were closed except for us ... but the majority of the time we were rewarded with the day off. I miss those days. I miss that feeling of elation when you are rewarded an unexpected day off. And as a child, it wasn't your responsibility to figure out how to "make the time up." We just relied on our teachers to rearrange their lesson plans in order to fit everything that was needed. But now, we're the ones that have to be responsible. We have to find a way to adjust our schedules so that we can take time off from work, whether it's planned or unplanned. We have to be ADULTS (gasp!) … So as I left work for the day, the child in me turned and whispered to my co-worker, "If anyone finds a way to shut down the power and heat to this building, let me know. I'm all for a snow day!" Alright, I am off now to climb into my jammies and do the "Snow Dance" …

Grr ...

Emily — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 00:33:23 +0000

I never did get a call from my co-worker about finding a way to turn off the heat and electricity in our office building … But we did get the snow (even though it wasn't the whole 6-12 inches they predicted). And I still had to get by crabby "ga-dunk-a-dunk" out of bed to get to work. Apparently my "Snow Dance" didn't work last night. Perhaps I should have done it without my pajamas on?! Na …

One Baby Step for Em ... One Giant Leap for Em-kind

Emily — Sat, 02 Feb 2008 21:30:47 +0000

On our Caribbean cruise this past November Hubby & I couldn't help but notice all the small children on board. I suppose it was only natural, given that it was the week of Thanksgiving and there were quite a few family reunions planned on this cruise. One particular child caught our eye. It was this adorable little Asian girl (I'll call her "Gracie"), most likely only 2 or 3 years old, who was wandering around the ship's library flipping through some picture books. I was particularly fascinated by her because this black-haired brown eyed child would have been the type of physicial attributes that Hubby & I, as Filipino Americans, would have produced. And of course, I started to feel those imaginary apron strings pulling again.

Our Nephew, Tyler

At first, we only saw the dad towards the back, looking around at different books to read. He looked a bit older in age than most of the parents with young children on the ship. And he was also Caucasian. No big deal, I remember thinking, "Gracie" could possibly be mestiza (Tagalog for "mixed ancestry"), like our nephew Tyler is. But then shortly afterwards, I saw "Gracie" run across the library towards her mom … who was clearly not Asian and who was also clearly a bit older. Wow, I remember thinking, here's an actual family created by adoption right in front of me. I couldn't help but smile and think how lucky they were. Apparently "Gracie's" dad saw my smile and smiled back at me. "She's adorable," I told him and both mom & dad smiled back and said their thanks. Their eyes were gleaming with pride as they walked out of the library together. I turned to Hubby and he, in turn, grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze as if to say, "I know." When we returned home from this trip, I relayed this story to the Stephens Minister (SM) that I've been meeting with regularly and who know that adoption is our next step. She is an absolute wonderful person who has this incredible ability to see the good in every situation and give the encouragement and strength to keep the faith even when things go awry. Anyway ... after telling this story to SM, she turned to me and said, "See! It's a sign!" meaning that this little encounter was God's way of "nudging" us to take the next step towards adoption.

Hubby's Little Cousins

In turn, I told her something that I didn't even tell my husband back there on the ship. That I wanted to talk to the couple and ask them about the path they took to get here. And ask them if this was the best decision they ever made. And ask them how difficult it was to go through all the paperwork. And how long it took. And the list could go on and on and on. But I didn't ask those questions because I thought it would be intrusive and embarrassing. I mean, it's one thing to go to adoption seminars and ask these questions in front of a crowd who is also at these seminars for the same reason. It's another thing to ask these questions face-to-face with someone else on a personal level. I guess it's the fear in me that I might say or ask something stupid or get too personal with my own IF issues that it might make the other person uncomfortable. My past experiences, even with support groups or even other non-IF related groups, has taught me to feel uncomfortable in doing this. Or hey, it may even be the Asian American in me (who is supposed to keep these issues private) that makes me feel uncomfortable in those type of situations. In any case, I truly did regret that I never got my chance to ask "Gracie's" parents about their experiences. A couple weeks ago, as I was in pursuit of doing some adoption research, I approached my one co-worker who's son and DIL just adopted domestically, about which agency that they had used. In the past, she had shared with me their "Dear Birth Mom" letter and I remember not only being pretty impressed but pretty overwhelmed with what they had done. In any case, my coworker told her she wasn't quite sure about those details but that she would ask her DIL about it and get back with me. "Better yet," she said, "why don't I have her call you?" I was a little hesitant at first, but then thought the chances of receiving that call were slim to none.

Every Asian Girl needs a Hello Kitty ... This is my "Filipino Hello Kitty"

Imagine my surprise this past week when K (co-worker's DIL) called me. I just happened to be at work when the call came through my cell phone. Lucky for me, I was able to find a small conference room to duck into while K and I chatted. I won't go into the details of our conversation, but I can tell you that I was able to ask her those questions that I wasn't able to ask "Gracie's" parents. And ultimately what I got out of it was a sense of relief. That we shared similar disappointments and heartaches (as many of us IF'ers do here online). That we internalized many of the same feelings of failures towards our body and of letting down our spouses and other family members. While it's been very therapeutic to voice these same feelings on my blog or even reading and commenting on other IF'ers blogs, being able to say these things out loud and to a live person was simply incredible. Especially because in the ten-plus years of trying to start a family, I've never been able to completely let my guard down with someone regarding these feelings to any one else other than Hubby. (No, not even my SM. Okay, maybe with my incredible therapist ...) And to be able to do that within a 30 minute conversation with K … during work hours, nonetheless … was so refreshing. At home later that evening, I was reflecting on my conversation with K and I finally felt a sense of ... not peace, per se. Not even relief, because that's what I was feeling earlier in the day. I think it was a feeling of content. Meaning that I'm finally at a place where I know Hubby & I are making the right decision by not giving up our dream to be parents. And that by taking the adoption route, our dreams will come true.

Our (Mutt of a) Family

Emily — Tue, 05 Feb 2008 02:52:08 +0000

My coworker's dog (JJ) has cancer. She and her husband had been treating him holistically through supplements and a special diet. JJ was doing so well on it that during his last check-up, his cancer all but disappeared. Unfortunately, he recently went in to the vet for a random visit and it was found that his cancer is back.

This is our "baby," Yami

Naturally, my coworker and her husband were very upset. This was their child, their first dog together. They, too, weren't able to have any children of their own and therefore treated all their pets as if they were their kids. So they took JJ to a "doggie oncologist" to determine what their next course of action would be. The options this specialist presented to them were three-fold; give JJ chemotherapy, do surgery to remove the tumors, or do a combination of both. All those options would be expensive, as one would expect. While their final decision has yet to be made, (based on success rate and life expectancy) they are leaning towards solely doing surgery. While my coworker and I were discussing the different options, it brought me back to a similar situation I had about four years ago. Hubby had called me at work one afternoon and sounded panicked. He told me that he thought something was wrong with our cat, Rain. She kept meowing and wouldn't get off the couch. When he went to pick her up, she would howl whenever he touched her hind leg.

And this is our "teenager," Rain

To give you an idea of how much Rain means to me ... she, is the oldest of our three pets (two cats, one dog) that we currently have at home. If she was human, this November she would be able to vote in the presidential election (while she wasn't eligible to vote in the MI primary this past January), that's how old she is. She is older than my husband and I have been married. She is my first cat. Ever. She moved in with ME when I got my first apartment. And Hubby moved in with US in that apartment after we got married. And just like my co-worker, Rain is by all means, one of the three pets that Hubby & I call our "kids." So when I got that phone call, I rushed home to look at her and promptly called our vet who directed us to the "Pet ER." As we sat in the waiting room, all I could think of how much pain my kitty was in. And how every time she looked at me, it was as if she was telling me to make it better. Eventually we were taken back and x-rays were taken. She had somehow shattered her femur. At that time we were given three options: have surgery to correct her fractures, amputate her leg (cheaper than fixing the fracture), or put her to sleep. Thank goodness the vet had enough sense to give Hubby & I a moment alone to discuss these options. I remember looking over at my husband at that time and just feeling completely overwhelmed. He smartly said at that moment, "We will do what needs to be done." And that meant having the surgery. Oh, did I fail to mention that during this exact time Hubby & I were in the midst of our one and only IVF treatment? Uh ... yeah. So not only were we spending massive amounts of money in drugs and tests, etc (again, no insurance coverage in MI. Grr ...) but we were going to drop another couple grand just to have our cat's leg fixed.

And here's is our 10 year old "puppy," Kozzy

Were we nuts to do that? To spend that much more money on a cat that wasn't "technically" our child? Especially since I was (at that time) by all means, pregnant with two embies inside of me? While I still wonder to this day if the stress that I was under during that period of time was what caused me to lose our babies, I do NOT regret having made the decision to have the surgery to correct Rain's leg. She is, by all means part of this (mutt of a) family and I wasn't going to amputate her leg or put her to sleep over something that was easily correctable. And, honestly, if we had made any other decision, I think that even if our IVF attempt WAS successful I would have felt complete and utter sadness for Rain. As it stands right now at this very moment … just like me coworker, our pets ... our Yami, Kozzy & Rain ... ARE our children. The miracles of life that we weren't able to produce on our own.

30-second Infertility

Emily — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 00:49:31 +0000

I was driving home from work today when I heard this commercial on the local radio station. It was about a husband and wife struggling to "create their family." How they went to RinkyDink Hospital and tried so many unsuccessful rounds of IUI's with no success. And then when they were "just about to give up hope," they heard about the success that BigCity Hospital had with infertility. A year and one round of IVF later, they were ecstatically happy with their infant twins. The commercial made infertility seem so easy. It's just too bad that the years of heartache and heartbreak that come with infertility can't be packaged neatly into 30-second radio spot.

The Year of the Rat

Emily — Sat, 09 Feb 2008 18:17:08 +0000

I know I'm a bit behind, but ... Happy Chinese New Year!! Actually, I'm not exactly late as the celebration for the Chinese New Year traditionally lasts 15 days, but I missed posting on the first day which was this past Thursday. So I'm sure that most people have been to some sort of Chinese restaurant where their placemats list the twelve animals in the Chinese Zodiac. Briefly (because believe me, it's more complicated that this), each of the twelve animals is dedicated a "Lunar Year" which then reoccurs every twelve years. It's believed that a person will have characteristics similar to the the animal that represents the year they were born in. This year is the "Year of the Rat" and it's particularly special to me as this is my "Lunar Year." What makes it even more interesting is that the Rat is the first animal in the twelve-animal sequence. And according to traditional Chinese belief, the Year of the Rat represents the beginning of a new era.

Sketch that my dear Hubby drew for me

So ... I'm dearly wishing that this Lunar Year ushers in a new outlook and energy to Hubby & me as we enter into the realm of adoption. And for everyone else out there (whether you're fellow IF'ers or not), I wish you the best in whichever new endeavor you head towards this Lunar Year. Gung Hay Fat Choy!

Magic 8 Ball Predictions

Emily — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 03:26:40 +0000

The first draft of this post was actually quite upbeat and positive ... how despite where I wanted to be in life by now, Mother Nature obviously decided to take a different path. And I was going to be okay with it. But then I had my follow-up appointment with my GYN today and well ... When I was little, I used to ask my mom for a sister. I desperately wanted to have someone to share a room with, not to mention sharing secrets and clothes and shoes (must have been all those after-school reruns of the Brady Bunch). What I knew little of back then was that my mom wasn't able to have any more children after I was born. In fact, she was supposedly very lucky to even have any children at all, let alone my brother and me. She had such severe endometriosis that, back in the day, they didn't think she would have much success with getting pregnant. Shortly after I was born, she had her hysterectomy to stop her endometriosis from getting any worse. I was told the whole story when I was in high school, after having gone through yet another painful period. My mom asked me back then whether or not my cramps were bad enough that I'd want to go on birth control. Which, when I think of it now, was pretty progressive of her to do that … especially given the fact that we were Filipino (remember previous posts about how "private" we are?) and my mom was (and still is) deeply rooted in Catholicism (ahem ... remember natural family planning?). Even back then, I had no inclination to be on the pill. So my senior year in high school, a bunch of us were coming up with predictions for ourselves; kind of a "Magic 8 Ball" prediction in where we saw ourselves in ten years. Would we be successful in our careers? Would we be happily married? Would we have lots of kids? Some had said they'd be happily married with the 2.5 kids and the dog. Others said that they'd have a wildly successful career, yet single or divorced. As for me … I can clearly remember saying that I would be happily married ("It is certain") with a relatively successful job, but not one that I was completely passionate about ("Signs point to Yes"). And … having problems getting pregnant ("Outlook not so good"). I'm sure it's probably because by then I knew about my mom's past medical history. But the other part of my prediction was that I would have at least one of my children before I was thirty. Thirty was the magic year because my mom and I were just about that many years apart and I absolutely HATED that there was not only the generational gap between us, but a cultural gap as well. I didn't want to be so out of touch with my own children and therefore thought that by having them before thirty, I would be closer to their generation. Well here I am, about to turn thirty-six this year and STILL childless. And to top it off, I just had my follow-up appointment with my GYN today. The one to go over the results of my latest US, et al in regards to the increase in pain and bloating with each cycle. And well ... as suspected, without doing any "looky-see" surgery, it appears that my endometriosis is back. So now it's time to go back on Lupron. Back to being void from any emotion, except for the extreme highs or lows. Back to having no chance AT ALL at being pregnant. Basically, no ability to have any glimmer of hope. At least for the next three months. And then maybe another three months after that. On an upswing ... at least I won't have any "oh geez ... can you just kill me now because this must be what hell in a uterus feels like" pain for now.

Needing Some Cheese with my Whine ...

Emily — Tue, 12 Feb 2008 17:11:16 +0000

Today I’m overwhelmed with baby and pregnancy news at work. First thing I heard when I came in this morning is that one of my co-worker’s daughter had gone into labor last night. And just now, I overheard the conversation that another coworker had with her in which she was calling to tell us that her first grandbaby finally made her entrance into the world. Apparently they could hear the “new baby cries” in the background. To hear the excitement in this coworker’s voice describing her first grandchild was incredible enough as this particular gal is not readily excitable. And then, as I’m doing clinical reviews for my assigned hospital I get one review that talks about a twenty two year old who finds herself unexpectedly pregnant and completely overwhelmed by how much “morning sickness” she’s been encountering. So overwhelmed where it’s to the point that she was considering ending her pregnancy. And well … I’m sure it’s because she’s young(er) and completely unaware of what her actions (meaning the comments that she made) might portray her as insensitive or callous … but still. It just made me very very angry. And I’m sure these feelings are a direct result of my most recent doctor’s appointment. But still … can’t I catch a break? Okay, I’ll quit whining and get back to work.

Dream A Little Dream

Emily — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 02:36:37 +0000

I had an incredible dream last night. One that I haven't had in at least three years. Last night I dreamt I took a pregnancy test and it came back positive. It was such a vivid dream in which I could literally see the second line appearing in front of my eyes. I was in such shock that I literally climbed back into bed, pregnancy test in hand, and woke Hubby up to confirm what I was seeing was NOT a mirage. And as he slowly woke up and opened his eyes, he confirmed that I wasn't "seeing things" by the silly lopsided grin he had on his face. Both of us were in complete awe because Hubby & I hadn't even been trying.

Nope, Never had one of these. Ever.

In the dream, we were so excited about the results that Hubby made it a point to take the day off from work to be with me as I went to doctor's office. I didn't even bother calling to make an appointment because apparently I already had one scheduled for that day. So we went into the office and as the nurse brought me into the room, she asked me where my Lupron prescription was. You see ... in my dream, that appointment was supposed to be the day I was going to receive my first dose of Lupron. Instead, Hubby & I first looked at each other with these all-knowing grins, turned back to the nurse and said in unison, "We're pregnant!" And that, sadly, was the end of my dream. I know why I had that dream. I know that all the recent events that have transpired over the past two months, let alone the past week has got my subconscious once again thinking about pregnancy ... or rather, the lack of pregnancy. I know that the news of multiple co-workers' who are about to become first-time grandmothers is affecting me. I know that the news of my SIL and our good friend in Portland's pregnancies are also affecting me. And I damn know for sure that the whole endometriosis / Lupron thing is weighing heavily on my mind. Not to mention that these next few weeks are all leading up to the fourth year anniversary of our one attempt at IVF. Those are the realities of my life. Those I understand and can make sense of. What I can't grasp on to is that after three frickin' years of not having any type of pregnancy dreams, why must I still continue to have them?

Hearts A-Flutter

Emily — Thu, 14 Feb 2008 22:57:10 +0000

Well, I know I've been pretty down for the past few posts. But I decided that today I'd try to be a bit cheerier. Especially since it's Valentine's Day. Never mind that it was my day off and I didn't bother getting out of bed until well after noon. Or that I had little energy to do anything other than to run to the kitchen and bathroom for necessary activities.

Another Sketch by My Talented Hubby

But the wonderful thing about that was I spent the morning snuggling with the kitties, reading some blogs, and watching some great TV (classic episodes of ER with Drs. Greene, Ross, Benton and Lewis along with Carol). And tonite, Hubby is taking me out to dinner. That's in addition to the roses he had delivered at work yesterday. (Woo-hoo! I trumped the "I'm a new Grandma" ooh's & ahh's ... how bad am I?) I am truly very lucky and blessed to have married such a wonderful man. So Hubby ... if I don't tell you enough, I love you and I'm so happy that you are in my life. You are my world and words aren't enough to express exactly how much your love mean to me. Your strength and patience with me means more than you'll ever know. You hold the key to my heart. Happy Valentines Day!

ART in the Movies

Emily — Sat, 16 Feb 2008 23:06:03 +0000

Hubby & I went to the movies a couple weeks ago and while Hubby was at the concession stand (getting me a a frozen Coke ... mmm!), I sat in the theater watching the trailers. That's when I saw the trailer for this movie.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DU34zV9A3gU]

I'm not quite sure how I feel about this movie just yet. Don't get me wrong ... I absolutely LOVE Tina Fey, but here's another movie about infertility that may just hit a little too close to home. Especially because it's a comedy. And although there are some pretty darn funny things to laugh about while traveling through this IF journey, there is still quite a bit of heartache and sadness. And watching a movie that could potentially poke fun at the whole situation might not be a good thing. But ... I also was hesitant to see Juno as well and ended up loving it. So, I guess I might just have to check out this movie once it hits the theater. I'm curious though ... what's your opinion? Would you go see it? Are you offended by the content of this film? Or do you find it hilarious? And furthermore ... do you think this portrays Assisted Reproductive Technologies (ART) in a good or a bad way?

Pain in my side ...

Emily — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 01:27:25 +0000

No, I'm not talking about Hubby or any other particular person that I might think is a pain in my side. I am literally having pain in my side. Particularly my left lower abdomen. It started early this morning as Puppy woke me up to let her out at 2(frickin'):30 in the morning. Got out of bed and felt a little twinge. Went to lie back down after letting Pup back in and the pain just got worse. Oh, I guess I should add that I'm CD2 today. And even though I'm used to the usual cramps (okay, I lie ... I hate them and will never get used to them) and even the dull pain I usually feel on my right lower abdomen during the first two days, this pain is just ... different. Sharp and intense. Localized to what I'm assuming is my left ovary. So come (actual) morning time as I was trying to wake up in order to get ready for work, the pain was no better. I made a sad attempt to go to work and then ended up going home after only two hours. But not before making an appointment with my GYN for later in the afternoon. Which ... I was going to head there today on my lunch hour anyway for my first dose of Lupron. The end result? Take this Darvocet prescription and take as needed. Call in the morning if I'm not feeling any better. Oh, and let's poke you in the rear with Lupron while you're here too. Well, it could be the drugs since I'm feeling pretty loopy right now (am I babbling or what?), but I'm still not feeling any better. Crampy? Check. Bloated? Check. Lack of appetite? Check. Pain in my side? Check ... although the edge is gone a bit. I guess stay tuned to see what happens next. Or not. Or maybe I should just go back to doing what I did best today ... nap.

When is the Best Time ... ?

Emily — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 21:42:41 +0000

When is it time to look for a new OB-Gyn? My current one has seen me through quite a bit of my medical history. It was with his direction that I experienced my first of many pelvic ultrasounds (and oh, what an eye-opening experience that was). He was the one that started the initial infertility work-up. He was the one that started me on the "Evil Clomid." And he was the one to tell me when it was time to seek an RE. Not only that, but after so many years of "cheating" on him with specialist after specialist, he's the one that took me back in when my attempt to successfully reproduce on my own failed. So why am I questioning why I should change doctors? As I mentioned in previous posts, I've been experiencing increased pain with my periods. I had an US two weeks ago, mid-cycle, that apparently looked picture-perfect. And the plan was to restart me on Lupron to help treat my endometriosis. And then Aunt Flo visited me with a vengeance. And as an update to my last post where my doc basically gave me the "Take two of these and call me in the morning" speech ... I called this morning to let the office know that yes, I was still having this intense pain. And no, the Darvocet I took (two tabs at a time, by the way) did not help the pain. So I was directed to go into the office for another exam, but this time it would be one of his partners since he was working out of his "other" office, all the way on the other side of town. Well, let me tell you ... Dr. Partner seemed to be much more attentive. He asked more questions, he seemed more interested in my symptoms. He seemed to want to figure out what was causing my pain. Unlike Dr. OldyShmoldy, who seemed to chalk up my symptoms to my endometriosis and that the Lupron injection should just "take care of it all." So when Dr. Partner ordered another US thinking that something must have definitely changed from two weeks prior, I was more at ease knowing that something was being done. And when that US came back showing a 3.5 cm ovarian cyst (which, Thank God, was not ruptured), I just finally felt some justice that I wasn't going crazy. So what's next? Other than the Lupron, which is supposed to help reabsorb the cyst ... nothing. That is, unless the pain gets even worse. Which means that there's still the possibility of a rupture. But not very likely. Anyway, after this experience I'm seriously thinking that I need to change doctors. And change practices as well. I just don't know how to go about doing this. I suppose I should wait until I finish my Lupron therapy. Or should I? Argh. Any advice would help. And if anybody knows of a good OB-Gyn in the Detroit-Oakland Co. area ...

Winks Wanted

Emily — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 03:00:29 +0000

This will probably a relatively short post as I am absolutely bone tired. That would be from the total of two hours sleep I had since Wednesday morning. Last night, around 10 pm I got a phone call from my Mom telling me she was taking my Dad to the local ER. Apparently he has been having chest pain on and off for the past two weeks, mostly when doing strenuous exercise like shoveling or jogging on his treadmill or even while bowling. But when his chest pain simply started while he was lying down at rest, he finally (?!) decided it was time to call his doctor who, of course, directed him to come to the ER. So I met them at the hospital, which is literally blocks away from my house, and sat with Mom & Dad as he got his blood drawn and and EKG and chest x-ray done. My Dad kept on insisting it was heartburn until one of his lab tests came up elevated and his EKG showed some non-descript changes ... all of which was indicating that something bad was going on with his heart. The plan was to admit him to a bed on the "Cardiac Stepdown Unit" (CPCU) and do a heart catheterization (a.k.a. "cardiac cath) to look at the arteries that supply blood and oxygen to his heart. But not before seeing the cardiologist supposedly first thing in the morning. That was at about 1:30 this morning. And because my poor Mom was exhausted, I sent her home to sleep. I planned to stay with my Dad until he got settled in the CPCU and then come early in the morning to catch the cardiologist. But it wasn't until 8(frickin'):15 am that he was finally in a bed, rather than the uncomfortable stretcher he was on all night in the ER. I ended up staying until we found out they weren't going to be able to do the cardiac cath until tomorrow (due to more abnormal non-heart related bloodwork). It was at that time that I went home to catch 20 winks in two hours, only to come back and sit with Dad while my Mom was at her own doctor's appointment. And now ... I'm finally home. I still don't know what time his cardiac cath is tomorrow, but I know I'll be up early at the hospital just to make sure I catch the cardiologist again. Ugh. I just hope and pray that everything goes well tomorrow. Okay, time for hopefully more than 20 winks ...

Caring for the Heart

Emily — Fri, 22 Feb 2008 14:44:07 +0000

So it's a go. Cardiac cath is scheduled at noon for my Dad today. I'm just hoping that everything will go smoothly and all the docs and nurses and anyone that takes care of him today do the best job that they can. Ugh. I'm feeling so frustrated right now. Mostly because there is only so much I can do for my Dad at this moment other than just be there for him. The nurse in me wants to do more to help him but yet I don't want to overstep my boundaries. Because believe me, when working the floors I absolutely HATED when visiting family members pulled out the "I'm a doctor"- or "I'm a nurse"- card, thinking that was going to scare me into making "triple"-sure I was doing the absolute correct thing. But other than unrealistically flying Dad out to the best cardiology center in the US, I do have faith and confidence that he is getting the best treatment possible at this hospital at this exact time. The best I can do as a nurse is be there to explain to my Dad and Mom exactly what is going on and what to expect ... basically be there to translate medical jargon into plain old-fashion English. That, and advocate for them exactly what their fears and concerns and needs are as a patient and his wife. At the same time, poor Hubby has also been sick with a nasty cold. Which, if there was only more hours in the day, I would be babying him like he does for me when I'm sick. Unfortunately with yesterday being spent at the hospital, I've had no time to make him soup or hot tea and just generally be there for him. And I feel like such a horrible wife for that. I bet y'all are saying ... "WTF, Em? You advocate and care for your parents and Hubby, but you don't advocate for yourself." The past week (and previous posts) being prime example of not thinking of what's the best thing for my own health. Well, I have to tell you ... and if you don't know this by now ... Nurses are notorious for not taking care of their own health. I think it's in any person who chooses Nursing as a profession to care for others before caring for themselves. For me it's not meant to be a self-sacrifice type of thing; it's more that I feel that others needs appear to be more important and more urgent than my own. Then throw in the whole Catholic and Asian-American thing and it's a golden opportunity for feeling the guilt. Yes, I know it's not always healthy. And I know that I do need to take care for myself before I can take care of anyone else. Every nurse gives that same schpiel to any of their co-workers (how's that for the pot calling the kettle black?). But we're a stubborn lot. We're definitely a "Do as I say, not as I do" group. I'm working on it though. This past year has been an exercise of learning to take care of myself. And think of my needs as a priority to others. I'm learning to say NO when I can't take on anymore than I physically or emotional can. And I'm trying my darndest NOT to feel so damn guilty for doing so. Right now? All my energy is focused on taking care of my Dad. Because that takes priority. Thanks for all your warm thoughts and prayers. And if you can, say a quick one for Hubby, too. Because, he too, deserves the best.

Mended Hearts

Emily — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 04:30:17 +0000

Whew. It's been a pretty tiring couple of days. Thank you for all your well-wishes and prayers ... I really do appreciate all your support and I know for certain that my parents and the rest of my family do, too. So what happened after the cardiac cath? Well, my Dad finally realized the extent of his smoking and fatty diet. The short end of it is that he was diagnosed with quadruple-vessel heart disease. Unfortunately because of his history of smoking and high cholesterol, along with diabetes and kidney disease, they weren't able to do angioplasty or any other sort of "interventional" procedures. So the only other option was to have open-heart bypass surgery. For those in the medical profession, it's known as CABG with LIMA. (On a funny note, my mom kept saying, "What's this food surgery? Sounds like 'cabbage with lima beans?'") Well, today at 3:15 pm was his surgery. And after what seemed like an eternity of sitting in the waiting room (in reality, it was approximately 6 hours), the surgeon came out to tell us that his surgery went well. And in about an hour, we were able to go in to visit him in the surgical ICU (SICU). He was still asleep from the anesthesia, but I was overall surprised that his color looked good. His blood pressure was a little low, but within 5 minutes of us being there, it seemed to have stabilized. We were told by his nurse that if anything were to happen, they would typically happen within the next 6 to 8 hours. As he sat in the hospital bed, I couldn't help but suddenly realize how small he looked. This is the guy that used to pick me up and throw me over his shoulders. This is the man who used to let me climb up his legs to let me do flips. The same person who, on my wedding day, walked me down the aisle alongside my Mom. I think I flashed through every single memory I had of him during that first moment of seeing him in the SICU. And finally, the weight of his surgery, hit me. The task of just getting through the surgery was so ginormous, that I believe I tucked away all those emotions. And now they're just surfacing. When we got home tonite, I couldn't help but hug Hubby a little tighter and (finally) let a couple of tears loose. But I know that by morning, I'll tuck those emotions all away and be as strong and steady as the bull-headed person I can be. At least in front of my Dad. For my Mom's sake, I asked whether family could spend the night. As I expected, we were told that we certainly can but would have to sleep in the waiting room. Since I literally live about 4 blocks from the hospital, I offered to let her stay at our house, but she wouldn't hear of it. She also insisted we go home, as Hubby was still a bit sick and well ... unfortunately, I seemed to have gotten his nasty cold. So instead, without much more for us to do, we went home. But not without making sure my Dad's nurse had my phone number on hand to call us if anything should happen. Hubby & I finally got home around 10:30 tonite and I know I'll definitely be back first thing tomorrow morning at 10 am when visiting hours start. And before I wrap this up (because believe me, I'm mentally and physically exhausted here) I have to say this ... My family has been totally blessed with any of the staff that we've encountered at this hospital. When my Dad was in the cardiac cath post-procedure area, my brother and I ran into a brother/sister team that we both knew since GRADE SCHOOL. They are both RN's in that area, and the sister was in my brother's class, while the brother was in mine. What are the chances of THAT happening? The best part was that the sister was a Clinical Nurse Specialist, who was able to explain things in greater detail (while using less medical terms) to my Mom. And this morning, while in the pre-op area, I ran into a high school friend of mine that was also an RN in that area; while my brother ran into an OR tech that knew our family since my brother and I were in grade school. I believe they were the reason that our whole family and extended family got to be around Dad in the pre-op area, as typically they don't allow more than two people at a time back there. And finally, I think God blessed us with providing my Dad with great Filipino RN's both in the CPCU (stepdown unit) and the SICU; both of which I know is a great source of comfort for my parents. So with all this said (or typed), I think I better sleep now before I get any more loopy. Again, thank you Thank You THANK YOU for all your blove (blog-love) sent this way. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Big HUGS to you ALL!

Up In Smoke

Emily — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 12:20:48 +0000

I wish I could write something a little more profound and exciting. But the fact is, I can't. After two days of being in the stepdown unit, Dad's back in the ICU and on the respirator. Kids, this is a great reason why smoking a pack per day for over 25 40 50 years is never a good thing. I finally broke down and cried this morning. I think it's been building up for the past week now. Pure exhaustion, plus frustration with feeling like no one (especially me) is doing enough to make my Dad better finally got the best of me. That, and once again seeing my Dad looking so small in his bed, attached to all sorts of IV's and tubes. I wish I could make all this go away. And poof! That dream just went up in smoke.

Blogiversary

Emily — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 00:01:42 +0000

Thanks AGAIN for everyone's well wishes for my Dad's speedy recovery. I am so incredibly grateful for all the blove (blog love) I've received. I will update you on my Dad's condition in another post, but today I figured I'd blog about something else. I just got done reading BabyBound 's latest post, and it reminded me that a year ago this month is when I started blogging. Okay, so officially it's not until March 17th but ... whatever. Anyhoo ... the reason BabyBound's post reminded me of my blogiversary was because she was talking about the reason why she started her blog. And what has transpired (or hasn't transpired) since taking a break from fertility treatments. For me, the reason I started this blog was to find an outlet to express how frustrated I was with my infertility. At this time last year, I was going through quite a bit of angst and frustration. Shall we recap? Yeah, why not.

Mid-March would be the 3rd anniversary of my one (and only) failed attempt at IVF. Since then, I had not done anything active to pursue further infertility treatments. Nor was I moving forward in any direction towards adoption. It terrified me to move forward (and in some ways, it still does today).
My SIL, who had just gotten remarried less than a year ago at that time, was already 5 months pregnant. And, of course, after trying for well-over 10 years to start our own family, I fell into a deep dark abyss of feeling like shit.
Same SIL found out just two weeks prior that her baby was showing signs of abnormalities (US was indicative of a cleft lip and omphalocele) and of course, I was feeling guilty that I probably caused it by all my horrible feelings of jealousy and anger.
The slimmest of slim possibilities of a quick and painless Philippine adoption was quickly and ceremoniously stripped away. (Come to think of it, I don't think I even blogged about that. Hmmm ... maybe a post for another time.)

So yeah ... I think I had enough to vent about and just had to find an outlet for it all. And hence, Apron Strings for Emily was born. A year later, I'm still writing. And I've enjoyed writing. It's given me an opportunity to share and exchange information and emotions with people that I've never met IRL (in real life). And even those IRL people that do read my blog, it's an opportunity for them to read exactly what I'm going through. Because in my real life, I'm not good at showing my real emotions. And a year later, this is what's going on in relation to the above-mentioned recaps:

Yep; it will be the 4th anniversary of our IVF attempt. I'm still saddened by it, but the grief has lessened considerably since last year. I still have no desire to pursue any further IF treatments, but instead am now dealing with the return of some unfriendly and unwanted GYN issues.
My SIL remained pregnant and in May (at 31 weeks), prematurely delivered Liam. In his short life (he lived only 4 months), he touched all of our lives with his beautiful eyes and incredible strength.
Same SIL announced this past January that she is once again pregnant (and due in August). Yes, it still hurts. No I didn't fall into that abyss again. I'm dealing with it the best I can , which is to accept it for what it is. I do have to add that this time around, SIL has been wonderfully conscious about how her pregnancy affects me ... and for that I am grateful.
Adoption. Yes, this is our next step and I'm actively taking baby steps to get there. I'm still quite overwhelmed, but taking even just these little steps is more than I have taken in the four years since our failed IVF.

So, if you've kept reading to the end of this post ... I applaud you. And I thank you. Thanks for being the ears (or in this case, the eyes) that I've needed to get past the most difficult times in my life this past year. I've learned that I am not alone in feeling the way I do. I've learned that others also share the same warmth, compassion and empathy that I have. I've learned that I am a much stronger person that I give myself credit for. I've learned that my husband continues to be and will always be my best friend in the world. And I've learned that blogging is therapeutic for my soul. Happy Blogiversary to me!!

Deep Breaths (aka THE TUBE)

Emily — Mon, 03 Mar 2008 00:43:31 +0000

I promised an update on how my Dad's been doing, so here goes. Dad's still in the ICU hooked up the respirator. They've had him sedated for the past couple of days because he kept trying to take the breathing tube (aka "THE TUBE") out of his mouth. He absolutely HATES that tube. It was the first thing he talked about when he finally got his voice back after the first time he was on the respirator right after surgery. So when he was having difficulty breathing last Thursday night and THE TUBE be had to be put back down, he was not too happy about it. But what's ten times worse, is not being able to breathe. Yesterday, they tried to wean him off the respirator and took THE TUBE out a little too soon. Clinically, he looked good. His lab studies were picture perfect and his oxygen saturation (O2 sat) was doing well. That's all fine and dandy, but since my Dad has a long-standing love affair with nicotine, sometimes "picture perfect" for non-smokers is not as "picture perfect" for smokers. Despite the fact that both my Dad's nurse and us (my brother & I) thinking it was better to give him an extra night of rest, the ICU doctor felt otherwise. So THE TUBE came out. And sure enough, within minutes his O2 sat dropped, he started gasping for breath, and he became more and more agitated. The ICU resident chalked this up to him being "anxious," but when I started seeing my Dad's eyes glaze over, I told her otherwise. And well, let's just say that my brother (also known as "The Doctor" as he's currently in his 5th year of residency for Orthopedic Surgery) was not AT ALL happy about what transpired. Within a half an hour, THE TUBE went back in. And now, to top it off ... it appears that he's got a bit of pneumonia in his lower lungs. Yet another thing to set his progress back. And while Dad wasn't too happy about having to be "intubated" (medical-ese for "placing the breathing tube") for the THIRD TIME, I think he was just happy to be able to feel like he could breathe. So today, Dad's doing better. He still hates THE TUBE, but he's come to accept it. For now. And they've started him on IV antibiotics to help fight the pneumonia. And the nurses and RTs (respiratory therapists) have been aggressive at doing lung treatments to help get rid of any fluid that may continue to linger in his lungs. The plan is to try to wean him off the respirator slowly and as soon as he's able to breathe without any help, THE TUBE will come out. I know I've said this time and time again over the past two weeks now, but THANK YOU for all your thoughts and well-wishes. If you can continue to keep my Dad in your daily thoughts and prayers, I will forever be grateful to you.

Tubeless

Emily — Wed, 05 Mar 2008 04:57:59 +0000

Well, it's official. My Dad is off the respirator. They took out THE TUBE this afternoon after giving him another day to let his body recover from all the extra fluid he accumulated in his lungs after surgery. And let's hope that extra day helped to improve his pneumonia with the antibiotics he's been getting as well. So far, things are looking great. When I visited him this evening, he looked ten times better (and happier) than he did when I came in earlier in the morning. I could tell he was better as he started joking around with us. The next step is to transfer him out of the ICU. And if all continues to go well, he may possibly be home for the weekend. Woo-hoo! Today at work, I officially started the paperwork to file for a Family Medical Leave. Although I know my Mom will be there to take care of my Dad once he gets home from the hospital, I want to make sure that I can take the time off from work whenever they need assistance. While it might sound like I'm "babying" my Dad, I just want to make sure that the surgery to correct his heart was not in vain. I reminded him today that this surgery was not the "end all be all" fix for all his health problems. The surgery was just the beginning. Now comes the hard part ... making sure he takes responsibility to keep himself healthy. This means that there is no way my Dad will be going to any of his Doctor appointments alone for at least a year. I want to make sure either my Mom or myself is there so that ALL of us are aware of exactly what is going on with his health. And to make sure that my Dad will follow through with all his health issues. Because honestly ... I don't ever wish that my Dad has to go through any major hospitalization again. But if he has to be, I want to make sure I know everything there is about his health history. That's because two weeks ago when he was first admitted to the hospital, I knew little to nothing of how sick he actually was. How bad of a daughter, let alone a nurse am I? (Yeah, I know this is an irrational thought ... but somehow I can't help thinking this way ...) Anyway, thank you ALL for your thoughts and prayers for my family. And thanks Mel, for sending support my way. Everything you girls have done has obviously worked! You are all so WONDERFUL!

Find out what it means to me ...

Emily — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 00:28:19 +0000

R-E-S-P-E-C-T Find out what it means to me -- Aretha Franklin, "Respect" There are many different definitions for "Respect." In linguistics, "Respect" belongs to three different classes of words; noun, adjective and verb. For this post's purpose, I've chosen the verb form of this word. re·spect [ri-spekt] –verb (used with object)

to hold in esteem or honor: I cannot respect a cheat
to show regard or consideration for: to respect someone's rights.
to refrain from intruding upon or interfering with: to respect a person's privacy.
to relate or have reference to.

A subject of "heated" debate occurred recently within our family. I'm sure a lot of this had to do with the fact that we are all physically and emotionally exhausted from the past three weeks of nonstop activity. Basically what it boiled down to is that apparently I was not showing respect for this particular family member. I feel I need to preface this by, once again, stating that I am Filipino-American. My parents were both born in the Philippines and my brother & I were born here in the U.S. The reason I felt I needed to bring this up again is because many times I feel like I've been brought up in two different worlds. And in these two different worlds, the word "Respect" can differ. In my "Filipino world," definition # 1 would be the best use of the word "Respect." My culture places high emphasis on family hierarchy. The older you are, the more respect you are given. There are many Filipino customs that are specifically meant to show respect to your elders from using a title in front of your older sibling ("Kuya" for a brother, or "Ate" for a sister), to the physical act of greeting elder relatives when they enter a room (a term called "Mano po"). In fact, when speaking to an elder in Tagalog (the Filipino language), it is expected that you add the suffix "po" to most phrases to show respect to them. In short, "Respect" in the Filipino culture is something that is given to you by right. It's something that is expected to be given to your parents, your grandparents, your godparents, your older siblings. And because the Filipino "family" is extended to include all relatives and even in-laws ... somehow, some where down the line (even if you're the youngest in your immediate family), you will be shown respect. In my "American world," I primarily think that respecting someone (or something like the environment, for example) pertains to definition # 2 above. I feel that respect is something that is earned by showing respect to others ... to consider other's positions, to show empathy for other's situations. By being successful in doing these (not-so) simple acts, I feel that not only have I earned a person's trust but I've earned their respect as well. Because now, I would hope that in turn, they would show some concern or empathy for whatever situation I might be in ... they would respect me. In short, I think "Respect" goes hand-in-hand with Christianity's Golden Rule: "... do to others what you would have them do to you." (Yes, the Catholic School Girl in me is coming out again.) To me, this also means "Respect" goes both ways. So why the "heated debate"? Well, how am I to blend both these definitions of "Respect" into a bi-cultural household? One way is given by right. The other one is earned. Then ... because of 12 years of Catholic school ... throw in the whole "Ten Commandments", specifically the fifth one as it was pointed out to me, and things can get (just a little) sticky. The Filipino-Catholic in me strongly believes that those older than I am do deserve respect, as they have more life experiences (but not necessarily more wisdom) than I do. Giving them the opportunity to talk and dispense advice (whether it's good or not), is a way for me to show respect. Although I might not participate in the typical Filipino customs of showing respect (can't speak the language, and hey ... my brother and older cousins HATED be called "Kuya" or "Ate"), I feel that by being polite and showing sincerity to any of my elders is the way I can show that entitled respect. The American in me, however, has a hard time showing respect to others that don't reciprocate that respect. How can you show respect to someone who constantly ignores your opinions or suggestions? Or how can you be respectful to someone who won't stop their angry tirade long enough to hear you speak? They might be your Filipino elders, but wouldn't you be just as angry and hurt if it was, for example, your boss or a fellow co-worker who was treating you like this? Would you give that person any respect? What would you do if you lived in my bi-cultural world? What does "Respect" mean to YOU? And who do you think deserves respect in your world? Sing it, Aretha ...

Oh, but I wish ...

Emily — Sat, 08 Mar 2008 13:09:03 +0000

So after my post venting about elders and respect yesterday, I managed to find a little humor late, late last night. After another long evening at the hospital without any dinner, Hubby & I went to the local Italian-American restaurant that stays open quite late on the weekends. Not the best of food, but certainly satisfied the fact that we didn't have to (yet again) pick up fast food. Especially since we've typically not gotten home every night until past 10 pm after visiting Dad in the hospital. Anyway, it appeared that we were going to be their last customers of the night. Pretty much all the tables were cleaned off and the banquet rooms closed down. However, the staff was so accommodating to us, and for that we were grateful. The funny moment came as Hubby & I were waiting for our meal. One of the older women who worked there happened to be passing by our booth. Hubby looked up and said, "Hi!" The older women smiled at us and said, "Oh, but I wish ..." Both of us had a puzzled look on our face until it dawned on me what she meant. Then I started giggling ... which then turned in to a full-blown guffaw. How much that moment meant to me at that time, I'm sure this older woman will never know ... but I totally needed that laugh at that exact moment.

In and Out Again

Emily — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 22:30:45 +0000

Yesterday I was expecting my Dad to come home from the hospital. Actually, we were expecting him to go home on Saturday morning, but amongst other things, he ended up staying over the weekend. We had plans for a visiting nurse to come out the day after his discharge and were just waiting for his "walking papers." Yesterday morning, I went into work thinking I'd work only until I got the call from my Dad saying that his discharge orders had been written. My mom called me in the morning to tell me she was heading to Mass and then to the hospital afterwards. She had told me that she would call me once the orders were written so that I could drive over to the hospital and go over all the discharge instructions together. About 10:15 am, I got a call on my cell phone. I looked down at the caller ID and saw that it was my Mom. But when I picked up the phone, it was a different voice on the other end. One of the nurses on the floor he was on was calling me to tell me that my Dad was having some difficulties right now and that it was best that I come join my Mom at the hospital right now. I was up on the floor sitting next to my Mom outside of my Dad's room within ten minutes of getting that phone call. Inside his room, I saw him surrounded by quite a few people who were either putting meds through his IV's or performing chest compressions while "bagging" him (medical term for "breathing" for him). Basically, they were performing CPR on him. I turned to my Mom, who was in tears. She told me that she had come up to the floor and ran into the RN Discharge Planner who just came out of the room. That nurse told her that it looked like my Dad was having difficulty breathing, so she was just headed out to get the RN that was assigned to him that morning. While walking towards the room, my Mom ran into his RN and both of them walked into his room together. It's at that time that my Mom said she saw my Dad having some difficulty breathing and that he looked ashened and grey. Both the RN and my Mom got him into bed when he suddenly lost consciousness and his lips started to turn blue. The RN was smart enough to call for the CPR team and, according to my mom, more than 15 people suddenly appeared in his room. Having worked in this same hospital in the beginning of my Nursing career, I know exactly how quick things happen once the CPR team is called. So it was no suprise that, once my Dad was stabilized (Thank God!), he was going to be transferred back down to the ICU once again. And yes, THE TUBE was once again back in. After what seems like a few hours of being told to wait in the ICU waiting room, we were told we could finally go in to see him. He was sedated, but my Mom said he looked much much more better than he did when she walked in this morning. The afternoon was then filled with the ICU nurses coming in and out as well as all his doctors. Both the cardiologist and the pulmonologist thought that this was a "fluke" incident; that my Dad was trying to cough up some gunk in his lungs and then ended up "gagging" on it. From that, his heart then dropped to 10-12 beats per minute (normal is 60-100 bpm) which then caused him to lose consciousness. The surgeon who did his bypass surgery thought different. He felt that given his incident of respiratory distress three days after his original surgery and now this recent episode, he didn't want to take any chances that something would happen again. So he recommended placing a pacemaker so that it might "shock" his heart if it should ever get so slow again. Today, THE TUBE came out. The most recent chest x-ray showed improvement in his lungs. And tomorrow, he has the procedure to place the pacemaker. And in these next days we need to make sure he gets aggressive treatment to get all that thick gooey gunk (resulting from years of smoking, by the way) up and out of his lungs. And although we were so close to getting home, I'm glad that Dad was in the hospital when this incident happened. I know that my Mom, who was already quite anxious about his discharge, would have totally freaked out if this happened at home. And given that I hit every single green traffic light and managed to find a prime parking spot in the parking deck while trying to get to the hospital yesterday, I truly believe that someone up there was watching out for us. Whew ... next step .... HOME. (At least I hope so ...)

When it Rains ...

Emily — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 02:51:20 +0000

Last night after coming home from the hospital, Hubby & I climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep. I had strange dreams of kitty cats attacking me (they've been "banished" from the bedroom from Hubby for "bad behavior." And they've been meowing incessantly to get into the comfy bed with me) and of waking up late and missing my Dad's pacemaker procedure in the morning. (Can we say I'm just a little stressed?!) At around 3 am, Hubby woke me up from a pretty deep slumber asking me for some assistance. "Huh?!," I said groggily. What kind of help would he need at 3-frickin' o'clock in the morning?! "The heater's not working," Hubby informed me. "And I need some help looking at our furnace." And sure enough, it was colder than Joe Louis Arena during a Red Wings game. 52 degrees, in fact (which, considering it was in the 20's outside, is quite a bit chilly). So after clanking around in the basement for a bit, we ended up looking up our local heating & cooling company and calling them to make a service call first thing in the morning. Except they didn't come until close to 10:30 am. And by then, my poor kitties and"puppy" were chilled. And Hubby & I were downright frozen to the bone ... despite the fact we were bundled in as much clothing as possible. Geesh. When it rains ... it certainly pours. On a happier note, my nephew Tyler turned twelve today. This, of course, also means that I will have been married 12 years ago this coming August. Which means it will be oh ... approximately 11.5 years since we've been TTC. Sigh ...

Regardless, I wish Tyler a HAPPY 12th BIRTHDAY!

Your Uncle & Auntie Em love you "To Infinity and Beyond .... "

Not Stirred or Shaken ... Just Chilled

Emily — Thu, 13 Mar 2008 15:42:38 +0000

This morning I'm taking a little time for myself. I woke up just a tad later than I usually do for work. And I'm doing it because it's officially my scheduled day off from work. Not one of those days I had to call my boss in the morning and let her know that I wasn't coming in because of my Dad or because I was waiting for a service man to repair our furnace. Nope. Today was a day that I officially scheduled off because of a previously arranged doctor's appointment. And for once, that appointment had nothing to do with the "nether regions" of my body. So today, before I make an appearance at the hospital, I've decided to stop by my local cafe and chill. Catch up on some blogs. Do a little knitting. Do more research on finding that new OB-Gyn I need. And hey ... maybe read the paper and catch up on some local (damn Kwame ... ) and national (and now the ex-NY governor?!) news. Because to tell you the truth ... I'm feeling just a little anxious. And exhausted. And I want to take a moment to sip my Leprechaun Latte and enjoy the sounds and smells of my favorite cafe.

Everyday is Like Sunday ...

Emily — Sun, 16 Mar 2008 14:49:40 +0000

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IbJQ4YAPRo]

I have this habit of singing this song whenever I'm up early on a Sunday morning. It's probably a leftover habit from the mid-80's. It reminds me of getting up on Sundays and having to go to mass with my parents. Hmm ... what does that say about me? So here I am, sitting in a relatively quiet household. The only sound I can hear is my stomach growling (it's calling for pancakes or waffles) and my Hubby's breathing as he sleeps. I figure he deserves to sleep in ... he's had a rough couple of weeks, not only with my Dad's hospitalization but with some major projects he had going on at work at the same time. And although I wanted to stay cuddled up next to Hubby and sleep in a bit, I had to make a trip over to my parents' house to drop off a prescription for my Dad. Yep ... Dad made it home safe and sound. Up next ... a visit from a home care nurse to help them go over all his new medications and to go over some important things he needs to do ... like watching his diet and continuing to do aggressive deep breathing treatments to prevent any further pneumonia. I specifically asked for a visiting nurse to come out to see my parents because, even though I could be that person to go over all these things, there are some things that get reinforced better by other professionals than by family members. No matter how many times my brother and I go over it ourselves with them. Speaking of my brother ... he's back in Chi-town where he's finishing up his last year of residency. He takes his boards on Monday and Tuesday and I'm wishing him the best of luck. He has totally been a trooper during these past weeks, having to drive back and forth (a total of FOUR times) to show his support for both Mom and Dad. But really ... what I wanted to do was to share pictures of his dog. Meet Wrigley. He's a five-year ex-racing greyhound that my brother and SIL picked up from a rescue league outside of Chicago.

This dog is SO laid back ... you can't help but love Wrigley and his personality. The whole time I was there, he did not ONCE bark (unlike our "puppy" who sounds off at approximately 30 barks per minute). And once Wrigley decides he likes you, he literally wants to sit with you (or on you) and follow you wherever you go.

Wish I could see Wrigley more often. But alas ... his Auntie Em only gets to see him whenever he's brought into town with his Daddy. And can you just imagine this dog driving in a small Mazda for five hours from Chicago to Detroit? Geesh ... where does he fit!

Hey Peeps!

Emily — Mon, 17 Mar 2008 10:21:09 +0000

One of my favorite things to have around Easter time are Peeps. Yeah, I know ... all that marshmallowy- sugar ... but I just can't resist! So imagine my surprise when I found these at my local pharmacy. How awesome is this to combine both Easter AND St. Patty's Day?! Yep. Had to buy them ...

Of course, I was at the pharmacy to pick up my latest dose of Lupron. Ugh ... with all that's happened this past month, I didn't even get a chance to look for a new OB-Gyn. Must. Put. That. On. Things-To-Do. List. Immediately ... But first, must wish everyone out there a Happy St. Patty's Day! May the luck of the Filipino-Irish (hah!) be with you all. Oh, and Happy 1st Blogiversary to me. Woo-hoo! And now ... time to devour those Peeps.

Un-Veiled

Emily — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 03:28:43 +0000

First of all, I just wanted to say "Thank You!!" for all the bloggy-love as I officially celebrated my first blogiversary yesterday. I am truly lucky to have such great blog friends!! Reading your blogs and especially your comments to my posts have definitely got me through this past year …. Moving on ... To shake things up at work, our bosses decided to do something different. Today was "Hat Day," where we could all wear a silly hat, a nice spring hat, or even a "Cat in the Hat" hat. What did I decide to wear? Well ... check it out!

Yikes! Check out the luggage under my eyes!

Okay, so it wasn't silly or spring-y ... but I figured, "Hey! When am I ever going to have the occasion to wear my wedding veil again?" What I really wanted to do was wear a simple white dress and white patent leather shoes with white tights and be a "First Communion" gal. Wouldn't that have been a hoot? Over the weekend while at my parents' house, I went into their cedar closet and dug my veil out of the plastic bag it was in. (Yes, the wedding dress is still hanging in there, too. You think after 11-plus years I might actually get it preserved ...) So rather than post our wedding picture once again ... and as an homage to my Dad, I figure I'd post this picture of our Father-Daughter dance. (Plus, I think it shows off the details of my dress and veil a little more than our wedding pic ... okay, maybe not!)

Dad & I danced to "Unforgettable"

But seriously ... at work when I brought out my veil, many of my co-workers thought I was nuts to do so. "What about keeping it nice and preserved?" or "Don't you want to keep it safe for when your daughter gets married?" Even when I correct them and say, "I don't have any children" or "There isn't a daughter to pass it down to" they always say ~~smugly~~ all-knowingly, "You never know ..." "Duh," methinks to myself, "You're right. I'll never know. And damnit, you don't know either." Do people honestly think that it's easy for me to think in those terms?! "You never know..." Is this supposed to give me some sort of hope that maybe in the future, I will be able to pass on my bridal veil and/or my bridal gown to my future daughter? Do they know that this is one of the things that I fear I'll never be able to experience? To be able to be a "mother of the bride" or to see my husband have his moment in walking his daughter down the aisle? To possibly even have grandchildren?

Yes, this is me ...

Sheesh, I'm still trying to get over my fear of not ever being able to dress a nursery, let alone buy baby clothes for a baby that may never come. Or seeing our child go through his or her First Communion. Trying to imagine anything past those moments just seems (and no pun intended) inconceivable. Okay. Enough of my ranting. Really, I was actually just trying to post a funny post and it turned into this. Hmmm ... must be the damn Lupron that's got me hot under the collar, literally and figuratively (damn hot flashes)!

Open-Faced Sandwich

Emily — Thu, 20 Mar 2008 15:03:31 +0000

I'm back at the same hospital where my Dad had his surgery. Except this time, it's to take my Mom to her previously scheduled routine outpatient procedure. As my Dad still cannot drive and my Mom's procedure requires that she has a companion to take her to and from her appointment, I volunteered to take her. And as I'm sitting in the waiting room (just picture my hair in piggy-tails, by the way ... hah!), I'm looking around to see other folk waiting for their loved ones to come out. Most of those are men and women who look like they're in their late-40's or early 50's, and I was expecting that they would be waiting for their spouses. So imagine my surprise when I'm seeing most of the patients being discharged are older ... and most likely my fellow waiting room companions' parents. And then I realized ... that with this appointment, I've been officially "inducted" into the sandwich generation. Except my parents aren't, what I consider, "elderly." (Hey, other than my Dad's lengthy hospitalization and now subsequent follow-up appointments, both of my parents are otherwise pretty active.) Plus, I'm not exactly in my late 40's or even my early 50's. And I'm not exactly "sandwiched" either. Because technically, being "sandwiched" means being placed in the middle of something. And the term "Sandwich Generation" implies that a person who fits this category is caring for both their parents AND their children. As I am currently childless, I guess this really means I'm part of the "Open-Faced Sandwich Generation." And to be completely honest ... being childless and growing old has always been a concern for me. Hubby & I have this longstanding joke about Senior Apartments or Assisted Livings that started when I first graduated from college and was looking at moving out of my parents' house. (I must add that we were just newly engaged at that time.) He pointed to this one set of apartments and suggested that we check them out ... not knowing that they were actually Senior Apartments. From then, any senior apartment and assisted living we'd drive by we would always say, "What about those ones?" And the response would always be, "Nah, it's not close enough to a movie theater or a library." That's because we always say that when we retire, all we want to do is watch movies and read. But the truth is, moving into those type of places could certainly be in our future. Not that I expect to remain childless (I will adopt, damnit!), but if Hubby & I chose to remain childless ... who would be that person to take care of us if we were too frail to take care of one another? Who would drive us to our appointments if we weren't able to do it ourselves? Who would be No. 1 on our speed dial? Who would be that "Emergency Contact" person on our medical records? I couldn't very well expect our nephew (or any of our future nieces and nephews) to do that ... they'd have their own set of parents to worry about. I must add here that even if ... or rather when ... we have children, I would never expect them to take complete care and responsibility of us. We're waaay too much of an independent-minded and problem-solving couple by nature. And hell ... as a Nurse Case Manager, these are the things I'm trained and certified to help problem-solve with the population I serve. Regardless, this is a concern. And a valid one at that. And it's yet another thing (along with possibly not ever being a "Mother of the Bride/Groom") that the other 80% of women not experiencing infertility wouldn't necessarily have to think about. At least not yet.

001

Emily — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 14:43:10 +0000

Googly-Eyed

Emily — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 03:33:59 +0000

Lately I've been (what my husband has said "obsessively") reading many other IF blogs. I completely blame Google Reader for it. And as Mel and Io have pointed out, it's So. Damn. Addicting. I find myself attracted to the fellow bloggers who, like me, are still childless. Specifically, those that have had "years" of experience in TTC and have either (recently) been successful in becoming pregnant, or have decided to forego any further IF treatment and chose to adopt or remain childless. I'm sure it's because these are the fellow IF'ers that I can relate to the most, given my own experiences. But truly, I think it's because these are the people that have seem to write about the same fears and hopes that I am feeling at this exact moment. Not that any of the other IF blogs I've read don't express the same fears and hopes as well. I guess it's more because of where a person is at in their IF journey. For those that are "newer" to the IF roller coaster, there is still fear expressed in their writings ... but, maybe it's just me, but these posts seem to have more of a positive or hopeful outlook. I guess I'm just way too jaded and disappointed after all these years. And for those IF'ers that have been successful in conceiving AND delivering a live healthy (or even not so healthy) baby ... well, for lack of other words, they were able to do something that I haven't been able to do. Ever. Not that a fellow IF'er can't relate to or empathize with exactly what I've been through, it's just that their posts will inevitably (and justifiably) become more about their child. And I should add here that yes, I am happy for them and I will continue to read their updates. However, I hope they might understand that it does become more difficult to relate to the change in their "no longer child-free" lifestyle. I realize I'm beginning to sound horribly petty here. Especially since less than a year ago, I was complaining about how I couldn't find anyone that might be going through something similar to what I was going through. I didn't think that anyone could feel as "stuck" as I was in my IF journey, like I couldn't take a step forward towards making my "Mommy Dreams" come true (whether through more ART procedures or through adoption). I've learned since then that, while they might not be going through the same exact thing that I was going through, there are other IF bloggers out there that share many of the same hopes and fears and habits (read: hiding underwear) as I do. Really though ... it doesn't matter whether others are at the same point in their IF journey as I am ... I just truly do enjoy reading about others' experiences, hopes and fears. And I absolutely LOVE reading about other IF'ers thoughts and quirks about every day things. It honestly just makes me feel less of a truly crazed infertile "freak." So what's the purpose of this post? Well ... really, I guess there is none. Other than to wish that I might have found this type of support (and outlet for my IF frustrations) years ago ... because maybe then I wouldn't have felt so lonely for so long.

Peeped Out

Emily — Thu, 27 Mar 2008 02:53:14 +0000

So this is just a little late here, but Happy Easter to you all. I didn't get a chance to post on Easter as it's been a pretty busy week. But of course, that didn't stop me from stuffing myself with too many Peeps that I am officially done with that marshmallow treat for the year.

Easter Sunday was spent with family. First up was the traditional Easter Sunday Mass with the parents at the church that I went to grade school. (Unfortunately, the grade school has since then closed.) As I've mentioned in the past, I'm not exactly a "practicing Catholic," meaning I'm not one to go to mass every weekend. Not that I don't have a strong belief in my faith, I just don't think that having to go to mass every week best demostrates how I practice the teachings of God and Jesus that I was taught growing up. I guess you could really call me a "Lazy Catholic" in that sense. But ask me if I believe in and practice the principle of "Treat others as you would like to be treated," you bet I do. That's the part of my faith that I strongly believe in. But imagine Hubby & I walking into the church just as the mass was about to start. We're looking around for my parents, as we agreed to meet there. Finally, we find them about 5 rows from the front, and sit in an area that's in direct eye sight of the parish priest. So as a cell phone goes off just before the first reading, I happen to see the priest do an almost imperceptible roll of the eyes as the reader at the lectern makes the brief announcement to make sure that all cell phone volumes are turned down. And that's when I make a grab for my purse to make sure I turn my phone volume down. Imagine, if you will, my cell phone going off in the middle of mass. The sound that would be coming from my purse, coincidently located under my chair, would be singing "Devil Inside / Devil Inside / Every single one of us / The Devil Inside." Yeah, a song from one of my favorite bands, INXS. Good thing I was with my parents and my Aunts & Uncles from my side of the family were attending mass at another church at the same time, because that's the ringtone I assigned to them. :-P I'm sure that the parish priest would have luuurved me ... and my poor Mom probably would have died of embarrassment.

After mass, we headed over to my Uncle's house (my Dad's brother) for lunch. My two other Aunts (Dad's sisters) and their daughters were going to be their too (one of which drove NINE hours from Chicago this past Friday in the midst of a snow storm). I specifically mention that this was my Dad's side of the family because out of the five siblings (his other brother was in the Philippines), three of them have had either a heart attack or open heart surgery (both, in my Dad's case). And because heart disease is known to be hereditary, the two other siblings are now terrified that they will also be susceptible to these same issues. As my Hubby & I sat at the "kids'" table with my two younger cousins, we all couldn't help but laugh at the conversation going on in the next room. "How high is your cholesterol?" "How much exercise are you doing?" "When's the last time you went to the doctors for a routine check-up?" And don't think us "kids" didn't notice that instead of a nice, big, juicy, fatty Easter ham as our main dish ... we had a healthy broiled fish. Yes, that's right ... fish. And it's not like we didn't (as "good Catholics") just finish 6 consecutive Fridays, plus Ash Wednesday, eating fish.. But yes, us cousins couldn't help but laugh.

After lunch, Hubby & I set up our Wii console on my Uncle's large screen TV, and the games began. The cousins played a bit of Wii Sports and eventually got the "elders" involved as well. The youngest of my cousins actually "boxed" against my Uncle ... and WON. This same cousin also beat this same Uncle, along with my Mom and our Aunt in bowling. And my other cousin? Well, she helped us FINALLY get past Slash in the medium level of Guitar Heroes III (and for that, Hubby & I are incredibly grateful!). Overall, it was a pretty fun day. Probably one of the best Easters we've had in a while. And quite honestly, one where I didn't find myself obsessively thinking about how unfair it was that I wasn't able to participate in all the child-related events (-ie- Easter Bunny pictures, Easter Egg hunts, dressing up the young'ins in the traditional Easter Sunday best) surrounding this holiday. Wow. That's a pretty amazing feat!

Childhood Dreams

Emily — Fri, 28 Mar 2008 04:04:12 +0000

Work has been incredibly grueling this past week, leaving me mentally drained each day. It's not that I've been swamped with an extraordinarily large caseload. Actually, that's more my team's issue as they are currently covering my caseload right now. You see, the powers-that-be in my position have selected me to be part of a group of RN's to establish a redesign for the current work flow. Uh ... yeah. Like I said, grueling. Not that I'm excited to be part of this group ... it has certainly been an eye-opening experience, and the upper-level executives have thus far been very supportive of the ideas we've come up with ... it just has left me very, very exhausted. Today at work, a fellow RN Case Manager shared a video clip of Dr. Ran.dy Pa.usch on the Oprah show. Now apparently this clip (along with the original lecture he gave at Carnegie Mellon University) has been downloaded over a million times on you.tube. So, if you've already seen this clip or you've heard about Dr. Pausch's "Last Lecture," you'll know exactly the emotions that this lecture evokes. Let me set the scene. Ran.dy Pa.usch is a 47 year-old father of three and Professor of Computer Science at Carnegie Mellon University. He was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer which has since metastasized, which currently gives him no further course of treatment other than palliative care. He delivered his famous "Last Lecture" during an ongoing series of lectures where Professors at the University are given the opportunity to give a hypothetical last lecture in which to impart to their students. Obviously, this lecture, titled "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dream," would be a little more realistic to him. So after watching this shortened version of this lecture on Oprah (the original is about 1+ hours long and visible on you.tube), it's no wonder that all eleven of us in the room were just about in tears. Watching this video had certainly got me pondering what my childhood dream was. The earliest memory I have about trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grow up is two-fold. One is of going to the library as early as 5-years old and picking out simple children's books, particularly a series of books about a young girl deciding what she wanted to be when she grew up. One book was about becoming a teacher, while another was learning to be a "stewardess," and yet another one about being ... da da dadum ... a nurse. (Hey, it was the late 70's and these books were probably written in the late 60's!) The other memory is of lining up all my stuffed animals (I was more of a plush toy kid than a doll kid) in front of our chalk board and pretending to "teach" them ... all to the delight of my Grandmother (who, by the way is 97 this year) who was a primary school teacher in the Philippines. [caption id="attachment_1573" align="alignright" width="180" caption="Unfortunately, I never actually owned one ..."][/caption] But by the time I got to high school, I fancied myself wanting to go into journalism or writing of some kind. I kept journals back then and wrote constantly to my cousin in London, Ontario, whom I considered my "living diary" during that time period. I even had a book of "poems" (more like silly rants, now that I look back at it) that I thought I could turn into song lyrics of some sort. Because back then, I also fancied myself being part of a really cool alternative band. Never mind that I was only a mediocre piano player ... I still wanted to be able to tour the world (probably playing my "ke.ytar" a-la Howard Jones). Alas, those dreams faded once it came time to choose which college I wanted to go to after graduation. Because then it became a matter of "How am I going to make a living?" rather than "What do I wanna do to make my life worthwhile?" The reason it turned eventually to "making money" rather than "dreaming big" is due to the typical Asian-American way of thinking. And that's having job security and stability. Eventually I succumbed to pressure and chose a profession that many Filipinos choose ... Nursing. That's because it's a career that can, not only yield a decent yearly income, but it could provide you with the ability to choose different paths within the profession (-ie- hospital setting vs. doctor's office vs. university teaching). Looking back now, I think Nursing appealed to me mostly because of the diversity in settings and also the ability to flex my schedule when I eventually had kids. So getting back to Ran.dy Pa.usch's video. One of the key things he mentions is having parents that supported him with the dreams he wanted. They, in fact, were the key to allowing him to dream big and to be what he really wanted to be. And while my parents provided me with the desire to always keep learning and the discipline to work and study hard, I can't say that I was encouraged to dream big ... or to even dream "outside the box" of the typical Filipino/Asian American professions. I'm not writing this to place any "blame" on my parents or to find an excuse for not pursue my "big dreams." I know that my parents encouraged me to be smart, strong and independent. And they did so because their experience in starting all over in a new country taught them that security and stability in life was important. I want to be clear here (because Mom, I know you're reading this) ... This "choosing stability over dreams" isn't the reason for this post. Nope, really it's going back to that video. And Randy's parents. And his relationship with them. It's those things that made it crystal clear to me what my childhood dream was ... and that dream wasn't necessarily to have a career that I was successful AND happy with. Rather, that dream was to grow up to be a warm, caring person who was sensitive to others' needs ... yet still be strong and independent-minded to nurture, not only herself, but others. I think I managed to take care of the warm, caring person (at least I hope so) through my profession in Nursing. I also think I managed to remain strong and independent. The thing I'm missing is that nurturing part ... particularly the nurturing as it pertains to children. And that's the dream that I'm still missing ... to be that parent, that mother, who, not only nurtures and cares for her child, but also encourages her child to dream ... and to dream big. Okay, so that's nothing all too revealing. Especially given what the basis of my blog is about. But watching this video ... and particularly the real reason Ran.dy Pa.usch wrote this lecture, really really REALLY affected me. It was certainly something that once again pulled on my imaginary apron strings. I encourage you all to watch the ten-minute video below and tell me what you think. What are were your childhood dreams? And are you living them now?

*********************************

If you'd like to read a follow up on this post, click here!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pgyuYHXqlO4&hl=en]

Me, Bartleby and Ta.rzan

Emily — Tue, 01 Apr 2008 01:49:47 +0000

Hubby & I spent the night on the west side of the state Saturday night. We were out that way specifically to catch the theater debut of one of our friends. (I'd tell you more about the play, but "I'd prefer not to." But I do have to say, I do think our friend did a wonderful job.) We've been to this town before (the most recent to see the Cowboy Junkies about five years ago), but never got a chance to really check the place out. But since our friend lives out there, we managed to get the "grand tour" of the area which included a trip to a local brewery that produces the only beer my alcohol-allergic / beer-loathing Hubby will drink. Seriously didn't know that this brew was locally-produced. Anyway, we ended up staying the night because the play didn't even start until 11:00 pm. And then afterwards, well ... of course we ended up going out and grabbing a drink afterwards. So we booked a room at one of the local hotels just to rest our heads for the night. After all, it's a decent 3-hour ride back to Detroit and we weren't about to make that drive after being out until 2 am. (Okay, maybe we would ... if we were still college-age!) The next morning, I turned on the TV in the room (while Hubby started to get ready) and started flipping through the channels. As I flipped, I stumbled onto the Dis.ney channel that happened to be showing the animated film, "Ta.rzan." I don't know what possessed me to keep the TV on that channel, but I suddenly found myself sucked into the movie. There's something about Dis.ney animated movies that I really enjoy. Especially the ones that were produced from "The Little Mermaid" onward. OK, so there were a few that I could care less about (hmmm ... "Emperor's New Groove"?), but overall I've liked their films. In fact when planning our wedding, Hubby & I created a "Three Wishes" theme, including designing our own invitations (which, back in 1996, was definitely not a common thing to do) based on the movie "Aladdin." It started with a porcelain figure of Jasmine & Aladdin that Hubby gave me when we were still dating which we thought would make a great cake topper. Then we chose "A Whole New World" from "Aladdin" as our first dance and then gave little ceramic genie lamps as our favors. Yes, I guess you can say we had our own version of our "Dis.ney Fairy Tale" wedding.

[rockyou id=108367233&w=426&h=319]

But I digress ... What struck me about watching "Ta.rzan" was the whole "Boy being raised by a gorilla" thing. Specifically the part where Ta.rzan found out how he came to live with and grow up with a pack of gorillas. Now, I'm assuming that most people have seen this movie or are familiar with the story. However, if you haven't and you have the urge to read the book / watch the movie ... then I suggest you skip the next two paragraphs. * If you recall that in the movie (because the movie actually does vary a bit from the book by Edward Burroughs), Ta.rzan was brought up by a pack of gorillas and was always regarded by the other gorillas as different. This, however, didn't matter to his "Mom," Kala, who brought him up as her own, after losing her own baby gorilla by the same leopard who killed Ta.rzan's parents. When Ta.rzan stumbles upon Jane and is surprised that there is a person who looks similar to him, he tries to learn from Jane (and her father) as much as he can about his "kind." Ultimately, Jane is supposed to be leaving back for "merry olde England." As Ta.rzan had ultimately fallen in love with her, he has to make the decision to either remain behind or go with Jane. Before Ta.rzan's decision is made, Kala tells him the truth about his parents and how, after her own son died, she raised him as if he was her own child. After he makes his decision to follow Jane, he turns to Kala and tells her that she will always be his mom. * Uh, yeah ... and that's where the tears started flowing. (Thank God Hubby was in the shower at that point!) I kept thinking that if I was Kala, I would would be absolutely heartbroken. Proud of him, but utterly heartbroken for myself. First of all, it's the whole "mother who loses her own biological child" thing. How can that not relate to how I'm feeling? Okay, so I never was able to get pregnant on my own and have never physically lost a pregnancy. Or worse, a baby. But that doesn't mean that I don't have the right to grieve about not being able to have my own biological baby. And how about those that have experienced failed IVF's alongside with me? Or those that have experienced ectopic pregnancies or miscarriages? Those are all losses. And then there's the whole "being raised by someone that didn't give birth to you" issue. Uh ... that would totally relate to adoption. I know that my journey through infertility has taken me down the adoption path. And I know that every day I am one step closer to becoming just as strong as Kala wanting to raise a child that isn't biologically part of me. I know that adoption is my fate and once I have my child, I will be so totally, utterly and unconditionally in love with him/her. BUT ... I can't help but think that somehow, somewhere down the adoption path I will truly start to freak out about the possibility that this child might not love me or feel that the love he/she has for me is not as strong as it would be if I were his/her biological mother. Huhm ... I just realized that perhaps my child would probably think the same of the love that I would have for him/her. He/She could be thinking ... "Does she love me as if I were born from her womb?" Well, the answer to that is yes. As I've never been able to experience pregnancy, I guess I wouldn't know the difference between loving a child that is biologically mine or loving one that was brought into our family through adoption. So my future son or daughter ... I want to let you know this right now: I will love you, because ... to me, you are my own child. Damn Dis.ney ... why must you always produce movies about orphaned heroes or heroines that overcome adversity. Do you purposely peer into my heart and see which one of those heart-strings (or better yet, my apron strings) to pull?!

Who's Your Daddy?

Emily — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 23:47:27 +0000

I've had people email me or post messages asking how my Dad's been doing. Thank you ALL for your lovely thoughts and prayers. Dad is doing much better. We've now had 3 of the 5 follow-up appointments with his doctors and they have all said they are pleased with his progress. Today, he has his appointment with the Cardiothoracic surgeon who will ultimately give him the "OK" to drive, if he's up to it. I know, for a fact, that Dad is ... as he's been going stir crazy at home. And I'm pretty darn sure that in the next two weeks he'll be starting outpatient Cardiac Rehab, so it will be good for him to get out of the house more. Yesterday, my Mom had a meeting she needed to be at and my Dad wanted to go to his weekly Kiwanis meeting. This would be the first one he's been to since having his surgery. Since I had to drop off some of his prescriptions that they filled at the hospital (which is literally blocks away from my house), my Dad asked me if I could drop him off at the local pizza place where the meetings were held. No problem, I said. As I'm driving in my midsize SUV with my Dad sitting in the passenger seat, I was struck with this sudden feeling. Here I am driving my DAD to his "extracurricular activities." Total opposite of what it used to be before I got my license. So then I thought, "Hmm ... perfect time for a lecture" and had this conversation with him: ME: So, Dad. What are you going to say when someone offers you a cigarette? DAD: (chuckling) No thanks. ME: (role-playing) Come on, it's just one cigarette! DAD: No thanks. I can't smoke. ME: What if they ask you to just go outside and watch them as they smoke? DAD: (looks at me questioningly) I go outside with them? ME: No Dad ... second hand smoke is bad for you, too! DAD: (proudly) Ah .... and then I'd probably show them my scars and tell them that they don't wanna go what I went through. ME: (patting his hand as I continue to drive) That's right! Wow ... so who's the parent now?! Geesh, I crack myself up sometimes ...

****************************** Update ******************************

Just got back from the surgeon's office and Dad has officially "graduated." That means he is now cleared to drive and do some light work. And because he specifically asked, he's also allowed to swing some light clubs. Just in time for golf season, too!

He's told me he's sworn off the cigarettes and promises to exercise more. He still has some work to do on his diet, but overall Dad's got a second lease in life.

And because he's done so good, I may ... just may ... let him have a nice ~~big fat juicy~~ lean steak for his birthday later this month!

Sniff ... Sniff ... I'm so very proud of my Dad!

Posterior Side Effects

Emily — Thu, 03 Apr 2008 14:26:31 +0000

If one more person says, "You're too young to have hot flashes!" I'm going to puke. As if having the hot flashes isn't bad enough, I get the whole lecture about how they didn't start having these "issues" (a.k.a. menopause) until their late 40's after children left the house. (Uh, thanks for reminding me I'm struggling through infertility!)

Check out my "cooling unit" for them night sweats!

And these same people seem to feel it necessary to tell me how they've had so many other "issues" as they were going through "the change." Like insomnia and night sweats (check). Or horrible headaches (double check). And the general lack of energy (triple check). Not to mention the general lack of filtering when it comes to saying what I think (quadruple check). And finally of course, those ~~monstrously ginormous~~ horrible mood swings (quintuple thru decuple check). Never mind that my poor Hubby's been getting the brunt of these side effects. Like those nasty mood swings. And the lack of desire to do anything (if you catch my drift). For Pete's sake, the poor man has to sleep under layers and layers and layers of blankets and clothing just to keep warm while I suffer through yet another night of "hot flashes"! So heed this warning ... the next person who tells me I'm too young to be having any hot flashes ... I am going to take my next dose of Lu.pron and shove it in their posterior.

Brick Walls (Childhood Dreams, Pt 2)

Emily — Sun, 06 Apr 2008 22:45:46 +0000

Oh my ... I never expected the responses and hits that my "Childhood Dreams" post about Ran.dy Pa.usch's "Last Lecture" would stir. As of today, that post alone has had just under 100 hits. Next to my "Year of the Rat" post, that's the most viewed entry I've had.

While I'm honestly not surprised that it's been viewed that many times (after all, Ran.dy Pa.usch's lecture is incredible ... even if the one I posted was the shortened 10-minute version of the original lecture); I am surprised by one particular email/comment I got. (Click here to see the actual comment.) Okay, so I have to admit that I originally thought someone was spamming me or pulling my leg. So I took my time in responding. And I probably wouldn't have responded until I decided to do a little Google PI (as in"Magnum PI"... yeah, I know; stale reference) in which I found out that this particular person actually did work for one of the national TV networks. So I responded back (the minute I found out that this wasn't spam) telling her that, yes I was interested ... but I guess I just didn't know how my blog related to Ran.dy Pa.usch's lecture, as my blog was primarily about my struggles through infertility. But ... just as soon as I sent out the email, I received this response back:

Hi Emily,

Next Wednesday night, ABC is airing a one-hour Diane Sawyer special on Professor Pausch. We noticed that his lecture was inspirational to so many people and incidentally the effects of his words are visible all over the internet. Though your blog is about a completely different subject, there are a variety of bloggers and "vloggers" talking about Ran.dy Pa.usch's lecture.

Initially I was hoping you could share your thoughts about Randy's lecture on camera but plans have changed a bit here and we will not be doing anymore on-camera interviews. If you're interested however, I invite you to create a sort of video blog in which you talk about the lecture and whether or not it has affected you in any way. Of course I understand if this is impossible but I thought I would throw the option out there. There's always the possibility we would include a short clip in the special.

Please don't hesitate to contact me with any questions.

Best regards, Astrid Aw shucks ... I guess I missed my 15 minutes of fame. And while I can all hear you saying ... "You should do a vlog! You should do a vlog!" To those of you that have met me IRL, I am not exactly the best person in front of a video camera ... even if it is a clip of me just talking randomly into my iBook cam. For Pete's sake ... I babble enough when I write. What part of filming me babbling out loud makes for good video?! Uh ... yeah. So no. But that was just one reason why I was hesitant to do this. The other reason is that I confess that until today, I hadn't even watched the whole 75 minute lecture (that's still available here on you.tube, by the way). And after watching it today, I can tell you without a doubt that this lecture is In.Cred.Ible. I just found so much more inspiration in the original lecture that wasn't even captured in the 10-minute Op.rah version. And because work has been laying heavily on my mind lately, there were a lot of things I took out of this lecture that so relates to the whole work redesign thingy. Now ... rather than go into great detail as to how it personally affects me and work (because somehow, I'm thinking it's not such a good idea to do that here), these are the biggest nuggets I pulled out of this lecture:

Bosses: Respect authority while questioning it.
Have something to bring to the table; that way you're always welcomed.
Be good at something; it makes you valuable.
Get the fundamentals down; otherwise the fancy stuff ain't gonna work.
Don't complain; just work harder.
Get a feedback loop on you and listen to it. The hardest part is not the criticism, it's actually listening to it.
Apologize when you screw up. When you screw up and no one says anything to you any more, this means that they've given up on you.
Focus on others and not yourself.
Loyalty is a two-way street.
In order to get people to help you, you should always tell the truth, be earnest and show gratitude to those who help you.
Find the best in everybody; no mater how long you have to wait for them to show it. You might have to have to wait a long time ... sometimes years ... but people will eventually show you their good side.
You can't get there (achieving your dream) alone, believe in karma. When you do the right thing, good stuff has a way of happening.
Sometimes things are just what they are. These are the cards that are dealt; we just got to know how to play the hand.
Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted.
Never lose the child-like wonder; it's just too important. It's what drives us.

Yes ... and this isn't even all of those nuggets Ran.dy Pa.usch threw out there. There was so much more. But since the primary focus of this blog is about infertility, I do want to bring up that many of what he says can certainly apply to the struggles we face with infertility. Okay, so the whole "Don't complain; just work harder" and "Focus on others and not yourself" seems like a crock when we all know how much we've worked at and have thought of others while still trying to achieve our goal of producing our biological child. But there are other nuggets that do apply. Take for instance the whole "Get the fundamentals down; otherwise the fancy stuff ain't gonna work." Hello?! Think of the fancy stuff as IVF and IUI. H*ll yeah, you've gotta know what the basics are in order to find the "optimum conditions" to get knocked up.

Throughout the lecture, there was this analogy of a "bric.k wa.ll" that Professor Pausch kept referring back to. He verbalized that bric.k wa.lls are there for a reason. And that reason is to let us prove how badly we want to achieve our dreams. They're also there to stop those who don't want things badly enough; these are the people that the bric.k wa.ll is trying to keep out. The bric.k wa.ll lets us show how dedicated we are to our dreams. The "Bric.k Wa.ll" analogy is the one thing in particular that I feel can best relate to and impact those struggling with infertility. Nothing like coming up against a bric.k wa.ll when one finds out that they're having difficulty trying to conceive a baby. Nothing like trying to overcome any obstacle to to try to achieve that dream. Nothing like showing dedication to this dream by subjecting ourselves to many blood draws and needle sticks and test after test just to get a positive pregnancy test. Nothing like doling out boocoo bucks in order to pay for all these treatments; many of whom don't even have a health insurance plan that will pay for it. And that's just the aspect of trying to get pregnant. Then there's the other aspect of adoption. Again, nothing like climbing over that bric.k wa.ll by subjecting ourselves to home studies in order to determine if we're worthy to adopt a child. Nothing like coming upon that bric.k wa.ll by putting ourselves out there to potential birth mothers or countries, as if to advertise ourselves like a singles ad:

"Mid 30's couple seeks an open relationship with a birth mother who is willing to let couple raise her baby as their own."

Or better yet, a want ad:

"Happily married couple looking for a country that is willing to provide a child to raise in the USA (infant preferred, but other situations negotiable)."

And of course, nothing else says dedication by coming up with creative ways to finance the adoption and then place the money up front, trusting that things will work out.

There is currently a movie out right now called "Run Fatboy Run" starring Simon Pegg (of "Shaun of the Dead" fame). In the movie there is another analogy of the "Bric.k Wa.ll." It refers to the point during a marathon when a runner figuratively comes up against the a bric.k wa.ll. It's the point when the runner is both physically and mentally exhausted. When the way a shoe is tied or the way the shorts rub up against the skin is shear agony. Where every forward step taken feels like a million tiny scalpels are tearing you to shreds. It's at that time the runner has to decide if he or she is mentally capable of forging through the bric.k wa.ll ... or too weak to continue forward. When it comes to that childhood dream I mentioned in my previous post ... you know, the one about being able to nurture my child and to encourage him/her to dream big ... I am currently facing that "Bric.k Wa.ll." I have gone through the medical aspect of infertility; the work-up, the almost-daily blood tests, the ultrasounds. All that plus the failed IVF attempt. Then there were (and currently are) all the pregnancies of friends and family over the past ten years that I've had to face head on. And still, I have nothing to show for the miles I've already ran in this marathon. Talk about banging your head against a bric.k wa.ll.

So here I stand in front of this "Bric.k Wa.ll" (where I've been for the past ten years), knowing what I need to do next. And here I am trying to gather enough strength, both mentally and physically, to plow through (or climb over) that d*mn wall. If that isn't dedication to my dream, then I don't know what is. One last nugget of inspiration from Ran.dy Pa.usch before I finally end this incredibly long post (I applaud anyone that has gotten to this point) ... "Don't bail on your dream. The best gold is at the bottom of barrels of crap."

Timing is Everything

Emily — Thu, 10 Apr 2008 21:12:42 +0000

One of our really good friends went on an interview recently for a job that he really REALLY wanted. And the thing is, both Hubby & I thought he'd be absolutely perfect at it. Plus, it would give him the opportunity to have an actual 9 to 5 job with no weekends or holidays. Which, of course, would make planning Red Coat Tavern or D&B outings a lot easier. Unfortunately, he did not get that job and was understandably disappointed. And as he blogged about his disappointment, I couldn't help but think of some words to console him. What I wanted to say was that I was the type of person who believes that timing is everything. And in my infertility experience, that truly is the case. I mean, really. How many mornings did I wake up and roll over to grab my digital thermometer to take that basal temp? How many mornings did I have to run to the RE to get poked for blood to determine where my hormone levels were? And let's not forget those early morning dates with the US technician and her magic wand. And when we're talking serious science experiments here (aka, IVF), you're literally dependent on perfect precise timing. But that's a different type of timing. That's a "controlled" timing situation. Making sure that all the I's are dotted and the T's are crossed. That's a much different type of timing when you compare it to "waiting for all the stars to line up" type of timing. That type of timing is what I can best compare to as "fate" or "destiny." When Path A intersects with Path B at a fixed point. When you just barely miss / catch those "Sliding Doors" on the subway. And that's the type of timing that I was thinking about when I contemplated on what my comment would be on our friend's blog. What I wanted to say to our friend was that I was the type of person that believed in that type of timing. That right now just wasn't the "time" him to get the job. And that in the future, I believed that an even better opportunity would come along at the right time in his life. I truly do believe that for him, as he is such a wonderful person. Instead I simply stated that I hoped one day he would get that dream job that he so deserved. I decided against using the whole "not the right time" statement, not because I didn't believe it for him. Rather, I left it off because I'm feeling a little unsure about my own "fate" right now. Where exactly does my "destiny" lie? Am I ever supposed to be a mother? Am I really supposed to be achieving my "childhood dream"?

I've always been a firm believer in karma; the whole "what goes around, comes around" theory. I always sought to do the right things in life because I always thought that eventually good things would come back to me in spades. I'm still waiting. And it's waaay past even the standards for typical Filipino Time (which is alway late). Okay, so I know that I've been given other good things in life ... Good, stable job. Roof over my head. Food in my belly. Family and friends. Wonderful husband. But I'm still waiting for children, waiting to become a mother. Maybe I haven't done enough good things in my life at this point.

**********

On a completely unrelated note ... check out the latest post on my other blog for a good laugh.

Two Steps Back

Emily — Sat, 12 Apr 2008 13:12:55 +0000

So recently there was this really honest post that Duck put out in the blogiverse. It had to do about wanting to want to adopt. It's one that apparently remained stuck in my mind, despite it being posted over two weeks ago. I'm at the point in my life where I've really got to start figuring out what to do about adoption. I know it's my next step, but yet every day there seems to be something that pops in my mind that puts me back another step or two. Especially these last four months. First there was my Hubby's grandmother. Then there was the news about another pregnancy for my SIL. And, of course, my Dad's hospitalization. And in between all these events, my good friend, Endometriosis decides to come back and nestle into my nice warm body. Oh, and shortly afterwards, Aunt Flo comes for the visit from H*LL. Nothing like emphasizing that I can't get pregnant. It's like an exclamation point (in this case, a "period") at the end of me shouting "I am infertile." So yeah, like a said, a few steps back. Not that I'm blaming any of these particular events for my recent train of thoughts. It's more what I've somehow managed to have each separate event represent. (I over-analyze things, if you haven't caught on by now.) SIL's pregnancy? That's easy ... and obvious. Dad's hospitalization? How precious and fragile life can be; and how things can change in the blink of an eye. Hubby's grandma? How one's life affects so many others ... especially their kids and their grandkids, and so on and so on. And all of this relates back to adoption and back to Duck's original post, how? Well, I honestly think that those going through IF need to fully resolve their issues of not being able to biologically produce their own child before they look to adoption. At first, I thought I was there. I thought I could simply give up the notion of not being able to produce a biological child of mine. And when I talk about biological child ... I'm strictly talking about a child that looks like a mixture of Hubby & me. One that might have certain features or personality traits or even habits similar to us. One who would know his or her family tree and complete health history. But then there's the other aspect of not being able to produce my own child. It's the feeling of being pregnant. Of watching my belly grow. Of craving strange things or claiming that I need more ice cream or chocolate for "the baby." Of experiencing the joy of a positive pregnancy test and sharing that moment with Hubby. Of seeing my baby's heartbeat on an ultrasound. Of being the guest of honor at my very own baby shower. Of people rubbing my belly. Of strangers coming up to me and asking when I was due. Of touring the hospital's birthing center. Of going through lamaze. Of hearing the cries of my baby after he or she was just delivered. Of holding him or her in my arms for the first time. Of breastfeeding. Of coming home from the hospital with my precious cargo and my Hubby standing right next to me. All that and much much MUCH more. Probably more than anyone who has never experienced infertility could ever understand. Empathize, yes. Completely understand, no. But then if we're also talking about walking in someone else's shoe, I also wouldn't understand what it was like to lose a child. Or worse, the love of my life.

In any case, I find myself suddenly back to where I was before January; knowing that adoption is our next step ... but once again scared to move forward. After all, to want to want to adopt is a big thing. And to do that means I could possibly have utterly and completely given up on that dream to become pregnant. And that's a pretty damn scary thing.

A Taxing Kind of Day

Emily — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 20:37:32 +0000

Well, I have to admit, this year Hubby & I once again cut it close to the tax deadline. At least this year, we got done a whole day beforehand. Last year, we e-filed for the first time and were literally hitting the "send" button within half an hour before midnight. And while we kept getting "server error" on the other end, Hubby & I were literally freaking out that our taxes would be filed too late. But alas ... things worked out. So this year ... we aimed to complete our taxes a whole day before it was due. Oh yeaaah ... we're total overachievers! :-P I do have to admit though, I hate doing our taxes. No. Really. I do. It's not so much that it's a pain in the rear to do (because it is). It's more because it's like a refresher of all the activities that had happened in the past year. We itemize every year, so we're constantly referring back to everything we've done, purchased, sold etc over the year. "Ah ... we flew to Portland for a wedding that month ... that's why there were so many purchases!" OR "Oohhh ... that's the month I received a bonus check from work!" It's like re-living each purchase that you bought over the year. Or realizing how much was spent on gas and car repairs over the year. (Hubby commutes and hour and a half each way every day. Can you imagine that expense?!) And once again, Hubby & I realize that we spend A LOT of money at the local Border's Bookstore. I'd say that we should try to break that habit ... but it's actually a habit that I quite enjoy. Really, the major reason I hate doing taxes is because of the whole "no kids" thing. No person to claim as dependents. No children to get that little extra "tax break." And because we're "relatively" successful in our line of work but still are not that successful that we can buy another house or invest any "extra money" elsewhere, we always end up having to owe money rather than get a federal refund. Geesh ... nothing like hitting us below the belt TWICE. Once for reminding us that we're childless. And the other for making us PAY more taxes because we're childless. Yep. No tax breaks for us "DINKs." (That's yuppie-speak for "Dual Income, No Kids.")

Remember Shrinky Dinks?

Oh sure there are tax breaks for adoption. But then this goes back to the whole being successful, but not that successful at our jobs. In other words we're not CEO's at our jobs. Nor are we any type of "upper management" type persons at our place of employment. And no ... we don't have any "spare cash" lying around to finance an adoption. Yeah ... that aspect and the one where I'm still not emotionally strong enough to go through the adoption process is THE BIG reasons why we haven't been rushing head-first into adoption. And yes, I am very well aware about the tax break one gets for medical expenses if I should choose to back down the ART (Assistive Reproductive Technology; in vitro fertilization, for example) route. We did, in fact, utilize this tax break when filing for the year that we did our one IVF round. However, this goes back to the whole "reliving the last year of your life" thing. Let me explain. Hubby & I did our IVF cycle in Feb/March of 2004. When that cycle failed, I was naturally devastated and extremely sad. As we worked on our taxes for 2003 later that March, we knew that we were going to owe federal taxes once again. So after spending all this money on a failed IVF endeavor AND still having to pay taxes ... well it was a killer. I can clearly remember that day, because as we worked on our taxes ... what should come in the mail? Yep, one of the last major bills we still had to pay for that IVF cycle. It was also the same day and at the same exact time that I finally broke down in hysterical sobs over the phone with my Mom. Because before then, the only person that bothered to know exactly how miserable I felt about the failed IVF cycle was Hubby. So flash forward a year later in 2005, when once again we're preparing our taxes. That year we knew we're going to get a refund based on all the medical expenses for the IVF cycle we had in 2004. But each bill we found and each receipt for prescriptions we tallied, the more and more I started to feel sad. Not because of the amount we paid for everything ... it's more because each item brought back a specific memory of that one cycle. And ultimately when all was tallied ... to know that we spent THAT much for a failed cycle, well ... it just plainly SUCKED. So there you go. The reason I hate taxes. Makes me want to throw some dough (no, not the money variety) on the wall and scream (a-la-Maggie Gyll.enhall in "Stranger Than Fiction"), "GET BENT, TAXMAN!"

*********************

Okay, so I just reread my post, and I feel compelled to add one more thing (and then I'm done ranting ... I swear!!): Although the outcome of the IVF wasn't what we wanted ... I still have no regrets for at least trying this medical route. I know I needed to try this step in making our family before I went on to the next. Ironically, I've since then become stuck between this step and the next.

Love & Coffee (sans Cigarrettes)

Emily — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 02:20:43 +0000

The other day, Hubby & I hung out at one of the local coffee houses that we frequent. We're there so much that the baristas definitely know us by now. In fact, the minute we walked into this particular cafe, the barista asked to see the scarf I had been crocheting (well over two months ago, by the way ... before Dad was in the hospital) for Hubby. Wow. I guess we're that recognizable.

While placing our drink orders, this particular barista asked me how long Hubby & I had been married. She chuckled as I turned to Hubby and said, "How long has it been?" (Yeah ... I actually had to stop and think about it.) She was suprised to find out that it would be twelve years this coming August, especially because we looked so "young!" (Ah ... the "curse" of being Asian American ... hated it in college, but loving it now!)

She then went on to share with me that she had been married for 12 years and just recently got divorced just over a year ago. While some days she gets sad that she spent so much time of her life with him, she knows that it was for the best. But the thing that gets her down is that she seems to think that maybe marriage wasn't in the cards for her.

Of course I disagreed. Because if there's one thing that I am, I'm a hopeless romantic. I believe that there is definitely someone out there for everyone ... it's just a matter of when it happens. And sometimes it happens later rather than sooner.

I shared with her that Hubby was my first date ever! Of course, it was strictly "as friends" that we went to Homecoming together during my Junior year in high school. And it wasn't until after high school that we finally started dating officially. What I told this barista, though, was that I knew even back then during Homecoming, that I was supposed to be with Hubby. I was just too freaked out at sixteen to think that this was supposed to be the guy I was going to spend the rest of my life with. And I fought tooth and nail to keep us as "just friends." But thank goodness I came to my senses and, well ... we know what happened in the end.

I feel so lucky and blessed that I was able to find the love of my life at such an early age. I know that if anything (God forbid) should happen where I would find myself single again, I would be absolutely devastated. That, and since I never knew how to work the "singles scene," I'm sure I'd find myself very very lonely. So for those out there that have struggled or are even still struggling to find the love of their lives, I can honestly empathize with you. And I sincerely mean that.

Because to want something SO badly and not have it within your reach ... well I can certainly understand that.

This is the reason why some days I feel like infertility is the "cross" I've been given to bear. Here I've been fortunate to be given my soul mate at such an early age; someone to spend the rest of my life with. In exchange, the struggle I've been given is the difficulty to produce my own biological child.

It's not much, but that reasoning is something that I use to help me get through each day ... each cycle ... each year that Hubby & I remain childless

Little Black Spot on the Sun

Emily — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 13:50:24 +0000

I admit that I wrote yesterday's post probably about two weeks ago but have been putting off posting it until now. Mostly it's because rather than feeling relatively upbeat, like that post was supposed to be ... I've been rather morose, which has obviously been reflected in the previous two entries I've published before then.

Today, I decided to expand a little more on my last post's musings. And it's really because of Mel's latest and greatest post that she published yesterday on the parallels of Infertility and Dating. Mel writes that there's a similarity between the two in that both situations possess a need that is unfulfilled. And there is certainly a resemblance in trying to find the love of your life and longing for a child love and raise.

As I've said before, I've been extremely lucky to have found my soul mate earlier in life. I have seen what it was like for my SIL who had struggled to find her true love. She endured so much heartache at a relatively early age, raising her son who was only two at the time of her divorce.

Yes, I saw how hard it was on her and how debilitating it was for her self esteem. And how much she doubted herself. I saw how very lonely and hurt she was, especially as her brother (my Hubby) and I thrived in our relationship as a married couple. But then she slowly started to date again, venturing out to test the waters. Finally, when she was least expecting it, she found her soul mate. After a rough first couple of years of marriage, which included the loss of their son at 4 months of age, they are now expecting their second child in August. And honestly, I couldn't be happier for them.

Then there's the infertility end of the spectrum. Finding love early and then not being able to create a life out of that love that Hubby & I have for one another. What kind of cruel joke is that? How painful it is ... to know that you have all this love to give each other, but you can't physically share that love with your own flesh and blood? Every day I struggle with this; knowing that I can provide all this love to a child ... any child, in fact. And yet in the same breath, I doubt that I will ever be a good parent. Because if I can't even create life, how am I supposed to appropriately support and encourage life in a child?

Infertility wreaks habit on anybody's self-esteem. Much like not being able to find the love of your life. Infertility, for me, is an utterly debilitating pain ... and one, on certain days, that I can't seem to stop. But then I look at Hubby. And I remember the struggles my SIL has gone through. And I realize that I am, once again, fortunate that I have found love.

Do I admit to being jealous that my SIL is now pregnant for the third time? Well ... yes. And trust me, I hate that I feel this way. Because I know of all the pain and self-esteem issues she's suffered to get where she's at today.

So to go back to Mel's post about the analogy of infertility and dating ... I do think that there are many similarities. Hurt. Doubt. Pain. None of which, when comparing dating with infertility is any more or less than the other.

Because pain is still pain, no matter how big or small the punch in the gut is.

On the Road

Emily — Sat, 19 Apr 2008 13:47:55 +0000

This is what you get for making faces at the camera!

Hubby & I have been getting a little antsy lately. We've both been crazy busy at work lately and were looking for a little adventure. So we decided to take a little road trip this weekend. The catalyst for our trip was to head back to the west side of the state to attend a surprise birthday celebration for one of our friends. The look on his face when he saw that we drove such a distance today just to celebrate with him was priceless. Then we figured since we were already out that far, we'd keep heading west and visit my brother and his wife in Chi-town. Well really ... I wanted to visit my two "nieces" (the kitties Mocha and Sophia) and "nephew" (the adorable Wrigley). That and meet the newest member of their family "Ryan," who is another rescue greyhound and actual litter mate of Wrigley. This should be fun ... let's see how four adults, two cats and two big dogs can all comfortably move around in a not-so-big condo. We have no idea what else we're going to do during our trip to the Windy City. We've been there so many times that we've pretty much exhausted all the "tourist-y" attractions. Except maybe go up the top of the Sear.s tower, which I've never had any inclination to do anyway. I think we just wanted to take some time to get away from the every day grind. We all need those mini-vaca's every once in awhile ... In the mean time, here's a photo that my SIL sent to me of Ryan. Apparently he has quite the same demeanor as his brother Wrigley ... so I'm sure that I'll be falling in love with him as well. Too bad they couldn't keep the whole baseball field theme with the names and call him "Bennett" (as in one of the original names for Tiger's Stadium) or "Trumbull" (as in "The Corner" of Michigan Ave and Trumbull, where the old stadium used to be). But the names Wrigley and Ryan do sound pretty darn cool together ... so I'll let them keep it. :-P

I'm sure I'll have more pics of the "nieces and nephews" when we get back ... so be prepared for an onslaught of pet pics in a later post. But for now ... we're off to Chicago!

Nieces and Nephews

Emily — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 01:03:56 +0000

Hubby & I are back from Chicago and from visiting with my brother and SIL. Dr. Brother is finishing his last year of residency at one of the major hospitals in the Chi-town area while Dr. SIL works in the ER at another area hospital. But despite their hectic schedules, they took the time out to spend Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday entertaining us.

And it's Slytherin Green to boot!

Not that they honestly had to do too much to entertain Hubby & me. Really, all we wanted to do was spend time and hang out with them. We spent some of our time walking around the Bucktown / Wicker Park area, thinking that perhaps we could afford things from some of their upscale resale shops ... uh, yeah. Guess I'm a little to used to finding great deals at the local Sal.vatio.n A.rmy. But I did manage to find this really cool shirt. Okay, so I didn't so much "find" it ... rather I copy off my SIL's idea, as I just loved the whole "snarkiness" of it all.

The other part of our time was spent doing our favorite pastime when we're together ... and that's eat. If there's one thing that I wish we had around where Hubby & I live is rows and rows of restaurants and bars with varying tastes. There's only so many times you can eat at a chain restaurant. Don't get me wrong, I love my A.bee's Triple Choco Meltdown, but perhaps I'd like to try something ... I don't know ... a little less manufactured? So yes. We ate ... and we stuffed ourselves with some great food. Tummy was definitely satisfied!

But the real reason for our visit? Yes ... it was to see my "nieces" and "nephews." The four-legged variety, that is. Oh boy, did we ever have fun with the boys. They are way too loveable! But rather than tell you about them ... here's some pics of them along with their "sisters," Mocha & Sophia, who have ruled (and continue to rule) the household.

[rockyou id=110646902&w=450&h=338]

The sad thing? Come this summer, my brother and SIL are moving to the Pacific Northwest. Dr. Brother managed to secure a one-year fellowship out there and Dr. SIL has also managed to obtain a few job offers. This means that in order to visit them and the "nieces" and "nephews," we'd either have fly out to the coast OR take an extremely loooong road trip.

In Case of Emergency ...

Emily — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 01:53:20 +0000

Anybody else find irony in this picture?

Guess it doesn't help that the "electric" sharpener is actually battery-operated.

Goes to show the inner workings of Nurses in an office setting ... :-P

In any case, it's amazing how going away for a short weekend can throw you completely behind in reading blogs. I mean seriously ... I've got quite a list of posts that I haven't been able to read since last Friday. And that doesn't even count the ones I've "starred" to get back to once I came back from Chicago.

Once again ... Damn that Goo.gle Reader!

Can't. Hide. Forever.

Emily — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 03:13:39 +0000

Couldn't I take her to work instead?

For those of you that didn't know, today happened to be "Take Our Daughters and Sons to Work" Day. Yet again, nothing says "Hey! Look at me!! I'm Childless!!!" whenever someone asked me why I didn't bring my child with me today. Uh. Perhaps because the ones I do have are the four-legged variety? And somehow, I can't see them allowing me to bring my fur-babies in. Lucky (or unlucky, depends how you look at it) for me, I've been extremely swamped at work. I've been doing 10-hr days / 4 days a week for well over 3 years now ... and I must say that this is the first time I've ever wanted to work five 10-hr days in a row. That's how much crap I have to do. But don't you worry (as if!), because I'm not that stupid dumb dimwitted brain dead to realize that I could work an extra day ... but since I wouldn't get paid (or otherwise compensated) for working above and beyond what I am paid to do ... I say, "The hell with that! I'm gonna enjoy my three-day weekend!" So really, the whole "kids at work" thingy didn't bother me so much today. Seeing as I was either: a) attending my ba-zillionth meeting this week, b) chained to my corner of the world that my company designates as "my desk," or c) hiding in my manager's office (or under my desk) trying to sneak a few moments of blissful ignorance as to what was piling up on top of my desk. In any case, I know that I can't just hide forever. After all, even though infertility and being childless is currently a big part of my life ... for the rest of the world (or at least the other 92% of the population), having children and raising them is always going to be a big part of their lives.

And as Monty Python would say ... "And now for something completely different ..."

**************************************

Happy Birthday to you, Dad!!

I am so very grateful for having you as my father. Not a day goes by that I don't thank my lucky stars that you're still with us today. It's been a rough few months, but I have every faith in you that you will continue to get stronger.

Love and Forever, Your L'il Punkin

The Brown Paper Bag

Emily — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 21:20:34 +0000

Beneath my bathroom sink, there lives a brown paper bag. The contents of which were too large to fit in my mirrored medicine cabinet. It's been residing there for the past four-plus years, maybe seeing the light of day once. Okay ... twice, when I organized everything in that bathroom sink cabinet. The only other time I took it out, was about two years ago. At that time I was debating what to do with all the syringes, needles and vials of medication that inhabited that brown paper bag. The first thought that came to mind was to donate its contents to the physician's office of whom originally prescribed such medication to me. But then I thought of the last time I had been to his office, and memories came flooding back; quite like a tsunami hitting the coast of an otherwise tropically calm shore. I thought of how many months I stuck myself in the thigh with those needles to deliver those extra doses of hormones. And I thought of those times I made sure I gave myself the injection at around the same time each night. I even thought about the small bag that contained my "supplies" that I carried on those nights when we knew we would be spending much time with family; for young cousin's birthday party, or another relative's baby shower, or a baptism where Hubby & I would be named as Godparents. I thought of the multiple trips I took during a given week in my cycles to get poked for blood. And thought of how many times I had "dates" with the Ultrasound Technician and her "magical wand." And finally, I thought about the multiple trips I took to three separate specialists office at different times in my life. The first of which fed me month after month of Clomid for a year; which now I wish I would have questioned earlier. The second that thought by doing a laparotomy followed by six months of Lupron would jump-start my system. And then put me on more than 8 months of medicated cycles; and after each cycle told me that this month, with the changes of medications or dosages in these injectable meds, that "this would be the month." And whenever I brought up the idea of doing an IUI or an IVF cycle, pooh-poohed my thoughts. And finally, the last specialist who actually listened to me. And ran just a few more tests on me to diagnose me as "insulin resistant;" not quite PCOS, as I was still cycling every month, but enough that I was finally put on metformin. Things started to feel better after being with this third specialist. The metformin miraculously made me "feel" better, if that makes sense, and the low-carb diet did wonders for my weight. It was then, that Hubby & I decided to go for In Vitro Fertilization; or IVF. Or the big guns; as I call it. And we were told that our best bet was to have it done with ICSI; meaning that IUI (intra uterine insemination) wouldn't work for us. So Hubby & I found creative ways to finance that IVF cycle, and well ... we all know the end result. Because, quite frankly ... I wouldn't be writing this kind of blog if the results were any different. About two years ago when I initially took out that brown paper bag and briefly thought about donating it back to my RE's office ... well, I got angry. And then I thought about how much money Hubby & I actually spent for those supplies and still didn't end up with the results we wanted. And I ceremoniously shoved the bag right back under the bathroom sink. Today I stumbled back on that bag, which had found its way to the very back corner of the bathroom sink cabinet. Without thinking twice, I opened it up once again and looked at its contents. And in the two years since I've seen it, I realize that it looks the same. Again I thought about donating it back to my RE's office; whom now I haven't seen in over four years. But as I glanced at the two boxes full of vials, I realize that the medication had officially expired over the past year. So what did I do this time? Well, I took out the vials of expired medication and threw them away. And I closed the brown paper bag once again, this time with just the needles and syringes, and stuffed it back underneath the sink. Well ... at least I made a little progress in moving past my one (and only) failed IVF attempt. At least I think I did.

Flippin' Blog!

Emily — Wed, 30 Apr 2008 20:36:39 +0000

Map of the Philippines

Alright ... I've postponed this long enough. If it's one thing that Filipinos are good at and known worldwide for is procrastinating. I mean really ... why else would we have our own "time zone"? (Okay, so Filipino Time is not exactly a zone, per se. Rather it's a ... I don't know ... a philosophy? Lifestyle? Cultural trait?) Anyway ... a fellow blogger I met in Blogger Town (you know, the place next door to Fac.ebook and Mysp.ace?), Joanne just tagged me about a week ago and it was about gosh-darn time I get to it. And because she's also "Flip", I figured she might forgive me for following the typical Filipino Time protocol. So here goes ... 1. Why did you start your blog? Well hmmm ... I've always just loved writing. It's a way for me to express some creativity and allow me to vent. Back about five years ago, when I was deep in the heart of my IF journey, my Mom had made a simple comment that I should start writing like I did back in high school and college, using the letters I wrote to my cousin as an example. My cousin and I wrote letters much like the two characters in "Beaches" did. She was, in essence, my "living journal" at one of the most confusing and hormonal times in life. Now, I've been somewhat of an inconsistent journler all my life; always starting one but then losing interest in it after awhile ... which is why I didn't start this blog until just over a year ago. I had finally gotten to the point where stuffing my feelings to "Save Face" just got to be way too much. I had to let it out somewhere. And because I wasn't able to share this confusing and hormonal time of my life with anyone close to me ... well, it only seemed natural to put it up on a blog to see if anyone out there could even begin to understand the kind of emotions I was going through. 2. How did you come up with your blog name? Well ... I suppose it's much easier to send you here to read about my name. Much easier than having to cut & paste. And you get the added benefit of not having to read it again if you've already read it.

"Living Journal" Cousin, Dr. Brother & Me, circa mid-1970's

3. Do your friends and family know about your blog and what do they think? Amazingly, yes. Not all of them read it, but they know about it. The one thing that I've found really great about having my family read it, is that they can finally be able to realize just how much of my life has been about my infertility and how hard IF's emotional toll has been on every aspect of my life. Filipinos tend to avoid talking about difficult issues such as drugs or divorce or ... gasp ... infertility. This goes back to the whole "saving face" thingy and the extreme loneliness that becomes part of it. By putting my blog out there ... well, I'm still able "talk" about my infertility while still being able to show up at family dinners or other social functions without feeling as if I'm "broken" or "weak" or just plain "out of control." As far as what they think ... well some of my IRL (in real life) friends have posted comments to show their support and agree (or disagree ... I love getting perspective from other people) with what I've written. As for my immediate family ... My Mom, as I've mentioned in passing before does read it ... albeit inconsistently, as she confessed to me. My MIL (whom I truly love and respect) has admitted to reading my blog, which again, is a good thing. She has, in fact, told me many times that she never truly understood how and/or why I felt the way I did until reading my blog. I also know that my (currently) pregnant-SIL reads my blog ... and I'm sure that what I write may have hit many-a-nerve with her. It isn't meant intentionally or maliciously to hurt anyone's feelings ... it is simply my thoughts, my feelings, my way to vent. I don't think Dr. Brother or Dr. SIL read this blog, but I could be sorely mistaken. And I know that Hubby reads it. If anything, he's the one that will reach out and hug me when he sees the sadness in my writing. Or laugh with me about some of the silliness I write.

Mmm ... Yum!

4. How do you write posts? I guess it varies on my mood from post to post. Mostly, it's just me writing about me in the first-person perspective. Other times, when I'm trying to be vague, I'll take on a third-person narrative ... but if I start writing like The Rock talks ... someone should just virtually slap me. "Can you SEEEEEEE ... what the EM is writing?!" :-P 5. Have you ever had a troll or had to delete unkind comments? Thankfully no trolls. And thankfully no unkind comments. I do get some unsolicited comments with some sort of "sales angle" that Wordpress sometimes misses ... and those I will delete. Otherwise, I've found that any person that has commented on my blog has been extremely nice and empathetic. I've "met" some really cool internet buddies this way. And I hope to continue to do so. So for those that might just be lurking ... please please, pretty please ... I'd just LOVE to "meet" you! 6. Do you check your stats or care how many people read your blog. If you care how do you increase traffic? Yeah, I admit it. I'm a sucker to see how much my blog gets viewed. I don't know why. It's not like this is some sort of "popularity contest." Really, I just want to know whether or not some one finds some interest in what I'm writing. And I'm hoping that perhaps someone else might find comfort in knowing that they're not alone in what they might be feeling. I really don't do anything to increase blog traffic. I hate the thought of placing ads on my blog. Because even if I do like my electronic "toys" and designer "duds," I'm still a "respect mother earth" and "there's gotta be a better way" liberal at heart who absolutely hates mass production and consumption.

*******************************

So that's that. I might be a little "late" in responding to this meme, but if there's yet another thing Filipinos are good at ... it's making sure that they follow through in any promises or obligations sent their way!

Now .... hmmm. Who do I tag? I think I'll ask twoPINK! and kcmarie122 to be the next victims. But don't feel like you absolutely have to do this just for me ... 'cause i'd hate to think that I "guilt-tripped" you into doing this. How very un-Filipino of me. :-)

Gas & Tatas

Emily — Fri, 02 May 2008 10:16:47 +0000

A couple days ago, I pulled out of my local coffee house, which just happens to be in a relatively upper middle class area of Suburban Detroit. As I'm driving towards the exit, I happen to glance at the L.and Ro.ver that was parked next to me and saw this bumper sticker on the rear window:

So yet again ... does anyone else see the irony in this picture?

Okay ... let's see. Hmmm .... the fact that this person is driving a gas-guzzling SUV that probably requires the premium, high octane fuel probably gives insight as to why he/she is for war. But the irony of this, is that L.and Ro.ver, while once owned by one of the "Big Three" US auto companies, was recently sold to ... da da da dum ... an Indian car company, which .... wait for it ... is called Tata Motors. (God, I just love writing the word "tata" and not have it be in reference to my b**bies!)

Yeah, I'm lame. But TGIF and hope everyone has a great weekend!

Red Thumb Diary

Emily — Mon, 05 May 2008 04:23:55 +0000

Remember that show on Sh.owtime "Red Shoe Diaries"? It starred David Du.chovny pre-"X-Files" and was pretty risque. Now, I'm not going to be writing anything quite like what that show is about. Really, the only reason I brought it up was because I thought it would be quite a lame reference to the title of this post. Okay, yeah. Making no sense here. But let me explain first of all by showing you this picture.

Yes, it's a picture of my left thumb as I hold it up to the picture I posted in one of my recent entries. And why, may you ask, am I doing something as silly as that? Well, it's because that same day that I wrote and posted that entry, I got an email from none other than "Living Journal" Cousin (herein known as LJC). Talk about major co-inky-dink! LJC's email told me that she (along with her fiance and fiance's brother & girlfriend) would be coming for some shopping on Saturday and was wondering if we could at least get together and catch up for a bit. So I quickly responded that I would love to spend some time together in which ever way we could. Of course, I told her that I was just thinking about her. And then, in my typical "blog-whore" fashion (you know, where you try to "pimp your blog" out to other people ... :-P ), referred her to that latest post. By the time LJC called this past Saturday, it was late afternoon and they were just pulling into the area. And because the main purpose for this trip was to go shopping, we figured we'd be able to maximize our time together by shopping and catching up. So, we met up at the area mall and shopped. Well, they did anyway. Me? Well, as you can probably surmise by this picture ... I tried on some nail polish at one of the stores. And silly me ... thought that this particular store might have some nail polish remover handy to quickly take off the color so I didn't have to go around with one single red thumb. Yeah ... like I said ... silly me.

Yep, these are ALL of LJC's letters to me

So that solves the riddle of the "Red Thumb" part of this blog title. What, say you, about the "Diary" part? As I stated briefly in the previously mentioned post ... LJC was someone that I wrote to about everything during the most tumultuous times of my adolescent / teen life. So much that our letters would get to be 20 to 30 pages long at times. (I'm not kidding you ... I swear!) She was ... literally and figuratively ... my real life diary (hence the name "Living Journal" Cousin). I can honestly say that my high school years and the earlier part of my college years had been written greatly in detail. As was hers. The best part of having this kind of method of journaling was that I wasn't just writing what I felt in a notebook or diary of some sorts ... I was actually writing to a real live person. A person ... my cousin ... who I trusted (and still do) with my innermost feelings. And someone, who's insight and opinions about my thoughts and actions, I deeply respected. So by sending and receiving each one of our letters ... well, it's much like getting feedback or comments on any of the blog entries I write. Except rather than it be out there in cyberspace ... it's signed, sealed, and delivered by the good old postal system. And better still, it's given with that unconditional love and trust that's very rare to find. Looking back now, I think that I placed such strong emphasis on my relationship with my cousin (and subsequently her two younger sisters) because, growing up, I never had that sisterly bond with anyone else. Being with these three girls would be (and still is) the closest that I would ever come to having a sister. And in some respect, I wonder if this is the reason why I'm not as close or comfortable around other women today. Meaning that I've been witness to the bonding experience that most women with sisters have with each other and their subsequent relationships with other women. But that's it. I've never been as close to any other females in my life as I am with my cousins. And even now, the three of them have a relationship with each other that I can honestly say that I envy. But getting back to the letters ... The running joke during the height of our letter-writing years was that we would eventually give each other our letters back once we got married. Then we could do with it what we wanted ... either read them or burn them ... especially because there may have been some really bad things written in those letters that we wouldn't want anyone ... not even our future husbands ... to read.

My So-Called Life

I completely forgot about our promise until the day after my wedding when Hubby & I (in typical Filipino tradition) were opening our wedding gifts among many of our out-of-town family & friends. There, in the absolute last box we opened were three books. Yup ... all my letters, neatly photo-copied (colored copies, nonetheless ... imagine the price of doing that in 1996) and binded chronologically into three volumes. I can clearly remember looking up at LJC (as well as her two sisters) with such amazement as tears ran down my face. I couldn't believe what I was looking at ... and I couldn't believe that she'd remembered. The four of us stood hugging each other tightly and crying like babies as my cousin told me that she had to make copies because she just couldn't part with the original letters. So now ... with LJC's wedding literally around the corner ... I've gotta start getting my act together. It looks as if I'll be spending a lot of time in front of my printer/scanner or the local office supply place making copies of LJC's letters. Because just like her ... I can't bear to part with the originals. But at least now ... we'll both have a set of all our letters and all of our responses.

nacomleavmo

Emily — Wed, 07 May 2008 16:24:32 +0000

nacomleavmo1

Emily — Wed, 07 May 2008 16:27:49 +0000

iWhine in Shuffle Mode

Emily — Wed, 07 May 2008 23:07:49 +0000

It's a rainy day here today in Suburban Detroit. It's officially my day off and I'm finally spending the afternoon doing what I've wanted to do all day, which is sit here and string words together in some sort of meaningful manner and post it on my blog. It just seems like the perfect day to do so.

If I could only take HIM to work every day

Instead I spent the morning actually trying to catch up with some work stuff. I'm telling you ... work is kicking my a$$ right now. Remember that work redesign group that I suddenly became part of by request of management? Well, I have to tell you, upper UPPER management continues to be very supportive of the plans that we have put in place. But my direct manager and supervisors, well ... they ain't too pleased with us. And truthfully, I don't blame them because one of the outcomes of this project may very well change the way that they think and work on a daily basis. So instead of being supportive of the projects (that, by the way are completely and utterly separate from the possibility of leadership's job redesign and is being spearheaded by upper UPPER management, anyway) ... I truly think that they're trying to make things more difficult for me. For instance ... not providing me with any time during my normal work hours to work on these work-related projects. To top this off, they also insist on having me keep my regular caseload and expect me to take on an additional caseload while another one of my peers is training someone new. So this is how I found myself on my DAY OFF playing catch up with just my "normal assignment." This doesn't include the many "normally-scheduled 10-hour days" that end up turning into a 12 or 13-hour work days. But enough of that bitching ... Did I tell you that it's pretty grey outside as well? Perfect afternoon to spend the day at my local cafe with my laptop and iPod listening to some grey-ish music. A little Smiths. A little Bauhaus. A bit of New Order. A dash of Peter Murphy. And for some reason, a lot of the moody slow Erasure and (ironically) Yaz songs. Completely coming up as random, too. Like I said perfect. If it could only stay that way. Speaking of all those bands, Hubby & I had a little discussion the other day about music. Back when we were in HS in the mid-to-late 80's ... and even those first few years in college in the 90's ... the music we tended to gravitate to was what was labeled as "Alternative" back then. Meaning that it typically wasn't played on the airwaves (pre-satellite radio, by the way!) other than college radio stations or at the local bar or club (a-hem ... City Club).

WTF?! EMO fashion is a rip-off of 80's Alternative Fashion!

And now ... well sheeeee-it. Suddenly these songs are popping up everywhere. And I'm not talking about just on the radio (yes, this includes satellite, too) as regular programming. I'm talking about showing up on TV commercials and other forms of media. Take, for instance the recent T.aco Be.ll commercials ... why does it seem strange to hear "Melt With You" while watching a guy pull apart a cheesy chili burrito? Or watching one of those special news reports where the background music is distinctly "The Promise" by When In Rome? Or the fact that reality shows like Amer.ican I.dol are starting to use songs from ... The Cure. I think yesterday's edition had one of the contestants even singing a Duran Duran song (and Kara, I totally thought of you) ... yikes! What next?! The Pixies, "Where Is My Mind?" Or better yet ... Revolting Cocks, "Beers Steers and Queers"? Ugh. But the truth of the matter is (and this is what Hubby & I were talking about) that those big-wig execs (or the chief creative directors) in the advertising or entertainment world are probably somewhere around our age and are using what influenced them growing up in today's mass media. Scary thought, if you think about it. Because in 20 years ... what will THOSE execs be using?!

Valley of the Bloggers

Emily — Sat, 10 May 2008 02:31:14 +0000

Warning: Long post ahead Short version: Went to local Resolve event and met two of our fellow IF bloggers. Ended up with two new IRL friends and a renewed spirit towards adoption. Wow. I can't believe how SMALL Blogland can actually be! Earlier tonite, I attended our local Resolve chapter's annual "Ask the Expert" night for the first time (more on that later). And who should I happen to come upon?! Not one ... but TWO of our fellow IF bloggers!! Now, I have to preface this by saying that I had a slight notion that I might see kcmarie122 tonite as I knew we lived in the same general area of the world. When I got the eblast from Resolve (and also a comment on my blog from MamaSoon), I thought that perhaps she might find this event interesting and posted a link on her blog. That's how I found myself continually glancing around the room to see if anyone looked remotely like her profile picture. I thought I caught a glimpse of her once while sitting in one of the session, but as soon as that session was over I suddenly lost sight of her. SO ... imagine my surprise when she came up to me during the dessert reception afterwards! Ah ... kcmarie122 ... you are just as sweet and kind as I imagined you would be. I am so happy we finally got to meet! Let me tell you a little more about why my Hubby & I decided to go to this event before I tell you who else I stalked met. When I received the eblast, I was a little hesitant to sign up to go. I wasn't sure if I was just about ready to take another step forward in my adoption past. I can't remember if I blogged about this, but the last time I inquired about adoption at this one agency, they were already calling me back after only one day and then called again a week later. Now for some people, that aggressive first part on the agency might be a good thing. But the fact of the matter is, it's taking me this long to make that first call (at least, this time around) ... I don't want to feel rushed or pressured into making a decision that I might not be that comfortable with. I'm sure there are agencies out there that are not like that, but this agency put a bad taste in my mouth at that particular moment. Who knows? Maybe when I'm finally ready to dive into adoption, I might want that type of "aggressiveness" on my side. But not just now. But I digress (yet once again) ... The thing is, we decided to go because we figured that this might be a way to get resources about adoption and not feel pressured into making a decision right then and there. Plus, the whole adoption forum of this night was basically a panel of different experts (lawyer, doctor, professor, counselor, and adoptive parent) discussing their experiences with the different parts of the adoption process. And then after they each spoke, they were asked questions written by us, the audience. Talk about major learning experience for me. It was refreshing to hear about the other aspects of the adoption process by actual "professionals" without having it be fed to us by an adoption agency, who really ... sometimes I think are mostly after the money that prospective couples are willing to shell out. (Okay ... yes, I know that's an irrational thought skewed by said-adoption agency above.) Hubby and I got a lot of good info and having gone to this forum has renewed my spirit and added a little more spring to my steps towards adoption.

Yes, Girls, I still support ART

Quickly though ... I should add that this Resolve event had a separate forum (or lecture, really) on ART, well. Truth be told, there were many many many more people in that forum than there was at the adoption one. But that's okay. This is the stage in my IF journey that I'm in. I now know (in my vast wisdom - so said, sarcastically) that my limit for IVF was one ... After all, I spent more that enough time and money doing unnecessary clomid cycles followed by more than enough medicated cycles before I was smart enough to figure out that the particular RE I was going to at that time was not suiting my needs. Yeah, that's how smart I was. Again ... I digress. (Sorry, my ADHD -- never actually diagnosed, by the way -- is on full tilt today.) At the end of both forums, there was the aforementioned dessert reception where I met kcmarie122 ( :-) still so giddy!) This gave us an opportunity to talk to the panel of professionals as well as meet and greet other professionals. Which was a good thing, because we were actually able to talk to the lawyer who specializes in interstate adoptions for a bit, and ask her about certain concerns we had about adopting domestically. In addition, this also gave us an opportunity to enter into some prizes they were given away including gift baskets, a free consultation with an adoption lawyer, a free acupuncture session, an others. But the two big prizes for the night were a $10,000 prize towards an IVF cycle or half off the price of an adoption homestudy (approx $700 in value). Hubby & I listened patiently as the organizers drew tickets for the smaller prizes. One of the names and the person's subsequent city called as a winner sounded just ever-so-vaguely familiar. And as this person walked up to claim her prize, she certainly looked just as familiar to me, too. I turned to Hubby and whispered, "I think I know that person." He looked at me quizzically as I told him that she might be someone that I might have seen somewhere out in the IF blogiverse. At the evening's end, the "Grand Prize" winners and alternates (just in case the winner decides to forgo adoption or the winner of the other prize, for some reason, is unable to complete the IVF cycle) were named. Hubby then urged me to go across the room and introduce myself to this mystery lady. "No, that's okay," I told Hubby, but he persisted even after I told him that I would feel as if I was stalking her. So finally after being pestered enough, I approached said-woman and said, "Excuse me ... you might think this is an outrageous question but .... do you blog?" And as this nice woman looked at me strangely (not to mention, a little leery ... I mean after all, we're talking about metro-Detroit here. You know ... "Murder Capital of the World." Yeah ... NOT!), she turned to me and said, "Yeah, I do. I'm SoapChick." And then I think I exclaimed, "I thought you looked a little familiar!," a little too excitedly and I might have startled her a bit. And then I introduced myself and the rest was history. We ended up talking for quite a while and it was just SO wonderful ... like meeting someone you think you know, but not really. And then the REAL weird part was that when I told her that I just met kcmarie122 earlier, Soapchick kept telling me that "the name" sounded familiar. She said that she sat next to someone during the raffle drawings that may just have been kcmarie122. And as we traded descriptions of this person, we both came to the conclusion that it was kcmarie122 that she was sitting next to. Then, just as Soapchick, Hubby & I parted paths, who should we run into again but kcmarie122 who confirmed that she was sitting and talking with SoapChick at the same table! How absolutely weird and awesome is THAT?! After attending this Resolve event tonite, I'm reminded of how far along I've come since even just starting to blog. Last year at this time, I was still struggling with even dealing with my feelings about my infertility. I had stuffed all my emotions inside of me that I was just waiting to explode. It didn't help that I was facing yet another Mother's Day childless. And it certainly didn't help that there were currently plans underway for a baby shower for my SIL who was then pregnant with Liam. It would only be another week later that Liam would be prematurely born; which then brought yet another wave of emotions that needed to be stuffed. Yeah, I was at a pretty bad place last year. And this year? Wow. I'm not only able to blog about these emotions, but I can actually talk about it. To total strangers. And be not only okay with it ... but completely thrilled about it. Okay, so we're not totally strangers, having shared our stories online with each other unknowingly. But still. WOW! So kcmarie122 and SoapChick ... I am so incredibly thrilled to have met you IRL. It's absolutely mind-blowing, knowing that I'm not only NOT ALONE in this big blogiverse ... I'm not even alone in my own county and state! My next goal ... meet the others in this fine state of Michigan ... Oh! And I forgot to mention the other fortunate thing that happened to me tonite. My name ended be pulled as the second alternate winner for the Adoption Homestudy prize! Woo-hoo!

THAT Day

Emily — Sat, 10 May 2008 14:42:53 +0000

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.

**************************************

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

002

Emily — Sun, 11 May 2008 05:41:43 +0000

Wasting Grey Matter

Emily — Sun, 11 May 2008 09:11:01 +0000

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!

So I'm A Little Late

Emily — Tue, 13 May 2008 16:19:38 +0000

Yep. Me, about a year after passing the RN Boards

No ... not that kind of "late." I mean really ... I'm on a medication that totally supresses my ability to become pregnant. So seriously people (or at least those non-IF people), don't get excited. But really, what I failed to do yesterday was to wish all those nurses out there a "Happy Nurses Day!" Now, in the US they celebrate a whole week for Nurses. It always starts on May 6th and wraps up on May 12th, which is the birthday of Florence Nightingale. For those of you that don't know, Flo is considered the "Mother of Modern Nursing," and that's why May 12th is recognized world-wide as Nurses Day. The good thing for me about this day of recognition for my profession? It typically happens right around the festivities surrounding Mother's Day. And it's a great distraction (especially at work where I spend most of my time) for me, the infertile. The bad thing about it? Well ... it's the same reason. Because, quite frankly ... most people "forget" about Nurses Day and remember THAT day instead.

Even back then, I had to be caged

Oh no ... I'm not bitter. Not bitter at all! Of course, having a whole day ... let alone a whole week here in the US ... that recognizes the achievements and the TLC of nurses is more than many other professions have. I swear ... Hubby keeps waiting for "National Graphic Designer / Art Director Week" to happen!

Special, Like Ed

Emily — Wed, 14 May 2008 23:54:33 +0000

I'm finally catching up on some Go.ogle reading that I've been putting off since the previous week. Yeah ... there's a lot of them. In particular there have been a flurry of pre- and post- Mother's Day posts. And that's completely understandable, given the nature of our blogs and our blogging community. Most noteworthy were two posts that I felt compelled to write more about rather than just posting a comment on their blogs. Ann at The Unlucky 20 Percent wrote about certain comments people have said to her on Mother's Day; particularly after finding out that she's not a "mother-to-be," but was already a mother whose first child was in heaven. I give her lots of credit for correcting those people she has encountered. Infertility and the subsequent loss associated with it is never an easy thing to talk about face to face. But just because infertility may not be discussed during any type of social gathering, doesn't mean that it should be forgotten or disregarded.

Yes, I know how easy it is for one to make "foot-in-mouth" statements ... I'll readily admit that I am usually the first in a group to do something like that and then quickly try to correct myself. But what I try to do after such statement is make light of it, or try and engage someone in conversation about what kind of stupid thing I might have said. No, it's not easy to do that. But if it brings about discussion and I learn something new from that discussion, I figure that I've gained insight into something I might not have fully understood before. So I wish that more people would do that in this world. I wish that when people do make some "off-handed" remark about how lucky Hubby & I don't have kids or tell us that we can "always just adopt," that they ... first of all, realize that saying those things are not comforting words (because that's the other aspect of this ... not realizing when they've put their foot in their mouths). And second ... be willing and patient to hear exactly why we don't have kids. Oh ... and offering things such as to "loaning" Hubby & I their kids for the weekend or telling us stories about how their best friend's sister's best friend adopted and miraculously got pregnant afterwards? Those aren't comforting either. And neither is telling us to stop stressing and "just relax." Just listening to us. Without feeling awkward about it. That's what we (or more accurately, what I) want. Now Shinejil over at Sluggish Butterfly wrote about wanting to be special. That it was in her competitive nature to want to be different than others and this is what she probably finds most frustrating in her IF journey. It's a post I can definitely relate to in some levels of my life. I'm not especially "competitive," however I've always felt a need to be different from others. I'm sure it stems from the fact that I'm a second-generation Filipino American and therefore, automatically different than others. Growing up, I was the only Asian girl in my class up through junior high. Once I got into high school, that number increased to 5 out of a class of 200. With the exception of one of these gals, we bonded quickly out of necessity and were pretty close to each other. In fact, we are still in contact with each other to this day. You'd have thought I would wanted to blend in with the rest of my classmates. Unfortunately, looking the way I did ... not to mention dressing the way I did (I was "Class New-Waver, after all :-P ) ... it would never be easy for me to blend in. I was friendly enough with most social circles that I could jump from one to another seamlessly, but I'm sure it's because I was just always accepted as the "Unusual Asian Chick." While somedays being "different" and coming from a different cultural background was downright a struggle, I pretty much embraced my "uniqueness" and have carried that on with me through adulthood. Except when it comes to my infertility. That's when I want to be "normal." And when I mean normal, I mean that I don't want to be that "One Couple out of Eight" or that "Unlucky 20 Percent" that is infertile. I would much rather be that couple that was able to get pregnant within one to three months of "trying." I want to have the ability to carry, labor and deliver my own biological child. I want to be able to dress my nursery and "nest" like any other pregnant woman would do. And although I'm not necessarily a "competitive" person in life ... I am a person that has been brought up to believe that if you work hard at something that you truly want, you will succeed. And I have to honestly say that I have managed to obtain all my goals in life by working hard ... except for bringing my own biological child into this world.

And that's how I find myself, yet again, different than most. Special, Like Ed. Riding the "Short Bus." So I guess what I need to do now is embrace my inferility and welcome it into my "special" and "unique" life. But writing it and actually doing it is definitely easier said than done.

My Furbaby Can Vote! ~100th Post~

Emily — Thu, 15 May 2008 23:04:43 +0000

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.

[rockyou id=112674556&w=426&h=319]

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!!

My Cousin, The Graduate

Emily — Mon, 19 May 2008 22:29:25 +0000

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!

[rockyou id=113210115&w=426&h=320]

No Outlet

Emily — Tue, 20 May 2008 17:23:53 +0000

I’m in a bad place right now. I’m frustrated with work and with my overall life right now. I’m not saying this to be melodramatic or whiny. I just am. Work has got me so overwhelmed lately. Too many “games” being played; way too much estrogen in our little area here that make trying to get actual work done difficult. It certainly doesn’t help that I’m on that d*mn Lupron right now. This morning, we had a flash team meeting. And it seems that everyone on the team visually sees that my one co-worker has stretched herself thin with orientating our new staff members. But no one (with the exception of my supervisor … who I suppose is the most important person in this group) seems to recognize that I, too, am stretched to the limits. Not only am I part of this work group, spending about 2 to 3 hours a day on these projects, but I am still handling my entire f*cking assignment as well. Not to mention taking a nice little bit of the other co-worker’s assignment while she continues to orientate our new staff. And maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m the one that’s extra sensitive lately. Maybe I’m just trying to take emotional responsibility for all the goings on with the issues at hand and the games that are being played amongst myself and other staff members. I’m trying so hard not to get sucked into their “games,” and for the most part I’ve been really good at it. But that still doesn’t stop me from feeling responsible for the emotional mess left behind from these “games.” And so by the time I get home from work, I’m tired. And so frickin’ exhausted. To top it off, after I get through yet another meeting for this work group, I see that I have a voice mail on my mobile phone. So I take my phone and what little time I have and head to the private bathroom on our floor so I can multi-task (if you catch my drift). Only to be interrupted by someone opening the door that I thought I locked. How embarrassing. But where was I? Oh yeah. The voice mail. Of all things, it was my Mom on the other end. And of all days, she called me to ask how I was doing. And that she was worried about me. And that’s when I lost it. In the private bathroom. At work. Yeah, crying at work is never a good thing. “How did she know?,” I thought to myself. “How did she know I was having a rough time all around right now?” I’m sure she’s probably had a chance to catch up on all my blog posts lately, which is why she called. Because, while this isn’t meant as any disrespect … my Mom doesn’t typically call just to see what I’m up to, or how I’m doing. There’s usually a purpose behind the call; a quick question or a quick communication of events, etc. And while I have yet to call her back and talk to her (I’m posting this illegally at work, by the by), I’m just not all there. And I can’t quite figure out what it is. Work is one thing to be upset and frustrated with. That’s a sure thing. A given reason for being overwhelmed. But life, in general? Why am I so stressed out over life? Could it be that this past weekend I watched my youngest cousin graduate from the same high school as I did eighteen years prior? And being so proud of her and seeing how much of her life is still ahead of her? While here I am, eighteen years later … and other than a husband, a degree and subsequent job, and a house (which I’m not doing such a great job keeping up, by the way) … I have nothing else to show for? Is it knowing that yesterday was Liam’s birthday something that’s affecting me more than I think? Knowing that as short of a life that he had, he was yet a child that was brought into this world while I can't even bring one? Is it the fact that frankly, I just feel stuck in life? Not able to move forward in life; paralyzed by fear of the unknown? Or the thought of taking one step forward is just going to end up in even more disappointment? Or sadness? Or failure? Or damnit … is it all just the stupid f"cking side effects of Lupron? Because in truth, I’m sure that it’s all of the above or some combination of them all that’s causing me to feel very raw right now. And I just don’t have any other means or outlet to deal with these emotions. So I'm very sorry, blog world. You’re it.

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Emily — Tue, 20 May 2008 23:09:52 +0000

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No Outlet Sign --- Image by � Photo 24/Brand X/Corbis

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Six Squared

Emily — Thu, 22 May 2008 02:33:48 +0000

Why So Squared?

It started out as my favorite number, Six.

Six was the day of the month I was born. Six was how many letters were in my maiden name. Six was the age I went to Dis.ney World for the first time. And Six also happens to be the name of a character in a once-popular TV show. Six also came just before Seven, which is my Husband’s favorite number. Six happens to be the year in the decade that we married. And why should I be so squared? Well this year, also happens to be the year I turn thirty-six. And what’s the square root of thirty-six? Yep … Six.

So this year, in 2008, I turn Six Squared.

Down for the Count ...

Emily — Fri, 23 May 2008 14:51:22 +0000

But like the Bozo Punching bag, I still come up smiling. Thanks for all the wonderful comments and words of encouragement that y’all have given me. I truly do feel the love out there. It literally made me shed a few tears … knowing that I’ve got some really good internet buddies and IRL buddies (soon to be both … can’t wait!) that care as much as they do about my well-being. Wednesday at work was extremely frustrating and … quite frankly … much too overwhelming to deal with. And after attending my weekly meeting for this work group, I decided to go home. Mentally, I could not even process what my tasks at hand were. What good am I if I can’t think? So I wrapped up what I was currently working on prior to the meeting, shut down my computer and promptly told my supervisor that I wasn’t feeling so well and was heading home. And seriously, I wasn’t … I had this horrible headache (most likely Lupron-induced), my nose was stuffed (d*mn allergies) and I was actually feeling quite nauseated (most likely from just the negativity at work). I slept away the rest of the afternoon. And boy, did I need that. Just the comfort of having my two kitties on either side of me as I lounged about was the best thing I could have done for myself. I totally needed to decompress. So the next morning, I reinflated myself (but not necessarily my ego. I have self-esteem issues ... can’t you tell?) and walked back into work with a smile on my face and my head held high. Because seriously … whatever bad day / days I may have … however many times I get knocked down … I still have to somehow pick myself off the ground and come up smiling. Thanks again for all your wonderfully warm wishes and sentiments. You. Guys. Rock.

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Emily — Fri, 23 May 2008 22:54:05 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 25 May 2008 14:35:31 +0000

pregnant woman holding her belly and flower

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Emily — Sun, 25 May 2008 14:37:56 +0000

At Arm's Length

Emily — Sun, 25 May 2008 14:38:55 +0000

Yesterday I realized that my SIL is due in a little over three months. And while I spent most of her pregnancy with Liam wallowing in self-pity and anger, this time around I've pretty much "ignored" the fact that she was once again pregnant. And I'm once again not. Okay, so I haven't completely ignored the fact that SIL is pregnant. Yes, we've talked a little about it, but mostly to see how her baby was doing. Because I know how difficult it was for her to go for so many tests, especially after she had found out that Liam would be born with some "imperfections." So yeah ... I've tried to be there if she needed me. Thank God she hasn't. Needed me, that is. Yes I realize how incredibly odd that sounds. Probably a little cruel, if I'm being completely honest. But there really is reason behind it. First of all, her baby is doing well. And thus far, there's no need for concern over the possibility of any major health issues for her OR the baby. So "being there" as a shoulder to cry on or someone to vent to ... as was necessary with her pregnancy with Liam ... is not completely needed this time around. And second of all, I've distanced myself purposefully for self-preservation. While I normally consider myself a kind person who is empathetic to most people's individual situations, this time around I can't be. Okay, so I do understand how scared my SIL probably is about this pregnancy, especially since it's been just over a year since Liam was prematurely born. But I just can't share those sentiments with her. Because I'm not, nor will I ever be in the near future, pregnant. Yes I could set aside that fact and just be 100% there for her. But as infertility is such a big huge ginormous part of who I am at this stage of my life, I simply just can't let the sadness ... the anxiety ... the anger of not being able to produce my own biological child go. So keeping myself at arm's length during my SIL's pregnancy is the best thing I could do for her. Because I don't want her to feel my sadness. And I don't want her to feel my anger. Because, quite frankly, she doesn't need to focus on any of those emotions except making sure she brings a healthy baby into this world. This time around. And once her baby is here ... just like her other children both past and present ... I hope she knows that (s)he will be loved by me. Completely. I just need to survive the pregnancy.

Ain't No Party ...

Emily — Mon, 26 May 2008 20:13:10 +0000

... Like a Dee-troit Party, 'cause a Dee-troit Party don't stop! These days there's not too much to be proud of when you tell someone you're from the Detroit area. First of all ... despite the fact that we are NOT the Murder Capital of the U.S. (that esteemed title goes to New Orleans for 2008), people still seem to equate Detroit with crime and violence. And then there's the whole Motor City deal. Yes, we're the birthplace of the modern automobile. Yes, we make gas guzzlers. Yes, we're a city that's literally dependent on fuel. That makes for a harsh economy, especially with many people losing jobs and a bad housing market. Oh, and of course there's the whole mayor fiasco, which I won't even begin to rant about here. So ... when good things happen in Detroit, it's always something to be proud about. And the fact that our sports teams are doing incredibly well right now is definitely a source of pride. Now, I have to admit ... I like blaming the fact that I'm a sports nut because of my husband. I always tell people that I never knew in the six years of dating Hubby that he was such a big sports fan until after we married. And that because of him, I started getting into our sports teams. That is not true. I fully admit that my fascination with watching professional sports started early in life. From watching Tigers games at the old Tigers Stadium ... to watching a very young Steve Yzerman play with the Red Wings at my first hockey game at 12 years old ... to listening to the "Bad Boys" of the Detroit Pistons play in the NBA finals during my high school graduation ceremony in 1990. In fact ... I can tell you with certainty, that watching sports is something that has bound my Dad and I together. And, of course, Hubby too. Well, so for those of you that don't follow sports ... let me just tell you how proud I am to be a Detroit fan. Currently, the Red Wings are vying for the Stanley Cup. If they should win ... our captain will be the first European-born captain to win the Stanley Cup. And the Pistons? Well, they're currently playing against the Boston Celtics in the semi-finals for the NBA Championship. And tonite? Well ... I'll be a little nervous. You see ... not only are the Wings playing, but the Pistons are playing at the same time!! D*mn. This is prime example of a Detroit party that don't stop ...

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UPDATE: And the par-tee continues ... Wings won against the Pittsburgh Penguins 3-0. Pistons won against the Celtics 94-75. And both games were played AND won here in Detroit. Talk about a great day for the city ...

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Emily — Mon, 26 May 2008 20:14:43 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 27 May 2008 03:38:59 +0000

Na Com Leav ... wha?!

Emily — Tue, 27 May 2008 15:23:50 +0000

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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Emily — Wed, 28 May 2008 05:14:44 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 28 May 2008 05:19:40 +0000

Required Reading

Emily — Sat, 31 May 2008 03:30:02 +0000

Holy Schmoly! (Try spelling THAT, you Spelling Bee kids!) NaComLeavMo ROCKS! I have read so many new blogs over the past 5 days that it's frickin' ridiculous. And I've gotten comments from so many new people that I feel like I've been voted in as Homecoming Queen! (Hey, what can I say ... I'm a Midwesterner and Homecoming Queen was more important than Prom Queen ...) Thanks to everyone that has stopped by to leave a comment ... all of your words mean more than you could ever know. Because, if I haven't outright mentioned it before ... prior to starting this blog, I felt I had little to no support as I've fumbled through this IF world. And now ... well, I'm ecstatic that I've found, not only an outlet for my frustrations, but a whole support system I never knew existed until just over a year ago. I truly wish I would have found out about you all ten years ago, when I first got on this d*mn roller coaster. And as I've been going down the NaComLeavMo list of blogs, I've started to add more subscriptions to my google reader. And since I haven't had a chance to read the blogs of those I've already subscribed to ... well, let's just say that I've got a lot of reading to do this weekend. I've tried to chip away at it night after night, but dangnabbit! That list still keeps growing. I swear, I spent the whole evening alternately watching the Pistons lose (grrr ....) and reading / commenting on blogs off of my google reader. And I'm not even halfway through all the posts ... Well ... I guess between going to a Bridal Shower on Saturday (thank G*d it's not the other variety of shower), watching the Red Wings game Saturday evening, and meeting up with fellow Metro-Detroit bloggers for lunch on Sunday ... I will have to do more reading! But right now I'm going to climb into bed and crash ... YAWWWWNNNNN

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Emily — Sat, 31 May 2008 14:07:15 +0000

About Me

Emily — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 02:33:38 +0000

Hmm ... How would I describe myself? In a few words ...

silly. insecure. sensitive. bright. insightful. naive. brave, yet terrified. loud, yet reserved. outgoing, yet shy. enigma.

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Told you I was an Island Girl at Heart

(Originally posted May 27, 2008 on this old post ...) 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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Update: November 23, 2009. To see where I'm at in my journey now, check out this post.

Get The Puck Out!

Emily — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 03:03:25 +0000

Ohhhh yeah ... The Detroit Red Wings are one more game away from winning the Stanley Cup! Yes, Mrs. Spit ... I know how upset this must make you. A non-Canadian team match-up for the title. But I must remind my friendly neighbors to the north, that Detroit has played a big part in the history of the National Hockey League. First of all, the Red Wings are one of the "Original Six" hockey teams still in existence from the first decade of the NHL. And second ... anybody who knows hockey (and even quite a few that don't) knows who Gordie Howe is. Yup. Mr. Hockey, No. 9 of the Detroit Red Wings. And finally, I do believe that Detroit is pretty much known league-wise as "Hockeytown." If you wanna know a really quirky fact concerning Detroit and Canada ... Did you know that Detroit is the only U.S. city in which you have to drive south to cross the Canadian border? Yes ... our friendly neighbor, Windsor, Ontario is the southern-most city in the great country of Canada, which makes many of those Cannucks that support our Red Wings have to drive north to catch one of our home games at "The Joe." And that, my dear blog friends, just might wanna make you scream, "Get the puck out!" Just like Hubby did multiple times tonite ...

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Emily — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 03:59:13 +0000

Swimming the Breaststroke updated

Emily — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 04:04:34 +0000

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 . Here ... 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!!

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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 ... :-)

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Emily — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 04:22:25 +0000

Three Overtimes ...

Emily — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 12:30:29 +0000

... and four loads of laundry ... AND one-hundred fifty-plus blog posts read on goo.gle reader later (Not. Kidding. You.) ... and our Red Wings LOST. In our own building, nonetheless. How crushed "my boys" must have been early this morning when the game finally ended. Because they literally played their hearts out. But alas ... all is not lost. Lord Stanley's Cup will be at tomorrow's game. In Pittsburgh. When the Wings play again!

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Emily — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 03:52:42 +0000

Stan the Man

Emily — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 03:53:55 +0000

Yes!! After six years, Stanley is coming back to Hockeytown! No, Stan is not an actual man. Well ... okay, so he was, but Lord Stanley is technically not alive at this moment to physically be coming back to Detroit. But the silver bowl, known as the "Stanley Cup" is headed back to my hometown. And Thank G*d this game didn't go into triple OT. Because now, instead of staying up and watching until 1 am like I did the other day ... I can stay up and pack for our mini-vaca to Florida!

Congrats to my boys, the Detroit Red Wings!

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Emily — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 03:47:38 +0000

Flying the Coop

Emily — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 03:58:18 +0000

Well, we made it down to Orlando safely. And I'm so frickin' glad to be here and on vacation. Even if it is only for five days! And it's all because of the days (and weeks and, heck ... who am I kidding? Months) leading up to today. Yesterday was a particularly crazy day. First of all, I was expecting things to go relatively smoothly at work. After all, the previous two days were productive, but not overwhelmingly busy. What I should have known was that all hell would break loose the minute I walked into work. Besides spending half my day scheduling meetings and updating things for our work group projects, I still had to cover my own assignment as well as another co-worker's assignment. So yeah ... I didn't get out of work until close to 9:00 pm. That's a nice 13.5 hour day. D*mnit ... why is it that you have to work your a$$ off in order to take some already-deserved time off?! Grrr ... And although I did the loads of laundry needed this past Monday during the 3OT game, I still didn't even begin to start packing. So I started doing that, all while watching the (nail-biter of a) hockey game. But of course I got side-tracked, especially once the game was over and the celebration began. Yep, that went on until about 1:30 am. Oh, and did I mention our flight was at 7:15 in the morning? Which meant we should be leaving our house by 5 am? Yeah, so we got little-to-no sleep last night. And didn't exactly get a chance to sleep very comfortably on the plane ride down. So after waiting for another set of cousins (siblings) who were flying into Orlando around the same time we were, we picked up our rental car and the four of us headed down to Hubby's uncle's house. And then proceeded to literally crash. So here we are, currently relaxing. Hubby's downstairs watching the Celtics-Lakers game with his two male cousins (a third cousin and S.O. and his 5 yo daughter arrived later this evening) and I'm upstairs literally trying to cool down after taking a cold shower. Ack. At least there's a ceiling fan in the room that's currently on the highest setting. And tomorrow, we're planning to hit Univ.l Studios / Isl of Adve.nture for the day. And then perhaps Dis.neyw.orld on Saturday. At least that's the plan. I think all six of us, quite frankly are already in vacation mode. In other words ... I don't wanna sit and worry about what we're going to do next ... let's see what the day brings us! Did I forget to say that I'm glad to be on vacation?!

Loopy Ron

Emily — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 04:30:30 +0000

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

Strength Pooh-Poohed

Emily — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 21:27:32 +0000

I love all things Disn.ey. Yes, I do admit it. Even though I know how the company mass-produces and over-commercializes everything ... I do love Disn.ey. So when Hubby, his cousins, and I all met at his uncle's house near Orlando ... there was no doubt in everyone's mind that we'd be heading to Disn.eywo.rld. Specifically the Magic Kingdom ... because I just HAD to go to the new Pirates of the Caribbean ride. After all, I also have a relatively healthy (?) obsession with Joh.nny De.pp. But as luck would have it, the ride had just closed for two weeks the day before we went. :-(

Hubby & Me with Shayna Notice all the red tshirts?

There's something about the Magic Kingdom that just makes me feel like a little kid again. After all, the first time I had ever gone to Disn.eywo.rld was when I was six years old. And once we entered the park and looked up at Cinderella's Castle, I was once again that six-year-old who just wanted to be a princess when she grew up. This is a comment I made to Luna before Hubby & I left for Orlando. Luna and I both found out that we were going to be in Disn.eywo.rld for a short spell of time. And even though I really would have loved to meet her IRL, unfortunately that small window of opportunity proved to be too small. (One day, though I may just find a way to meet up with the fabulous Luna!) That comment of just looking forward to being a kid again was in a response to Luna, who had mentioned that I was strong person to be excited to go to the kid-centric universe called Disn.ney. And I could see her point, as starting our own families and raising our own children has been, in part, a ginormous part our our lives. How was I going to survive being surrounded by hoards of families, with little ones in strollers and slightly larger ones (aka the 5-9 year-old range) holding on to the hands of their parents? Well, for one thing ... we found out rather quickly that the day we went was "Gay Day" at Disn.eywo.rld. Oh yes ... a sea of red t-shirts with interesting sayings like "Slut Puppy" or "The Best Marine is a Submarine" surrounded us at every turn. My personal favorites were "Closets are for Clothes" and "Brokeback from Waaaay Back!" Let's just say, it made the day twenty times more interesting! Not that they couldn't have children of their own, but frankly we just didn't see any young kids being pushed in strollers by them. Honestly, I think I was doing pretty d*mn good. Hubby and I were having fun with our cousins, especially our one cousin's 5-year old daughter, Shayna, who was just so excited to be there amongst all the Disn.ey characters. She had a special affinity to Belle ... as did our other older, single male cousin which we teased him relentlessly about. It wasn't until I hit the "Many Adventures of Wi.nnie the Po.oh" ride that it hit me. And thank G*d that we didn't get to that ride until later in the evening. Because quite honestly, the rest of the time I found myself struggling not to feel so unsettled.

This is me at 4 years old with my Po.oh Bear and Classic Po.oh Dress

You see, along with all things Dis.ney ... I especially love all things Po.oh, which started from the time I was very little. My favorite thing from childhood (which I still have) was my Po.oh Bear blanket. My bedroom, until the time I was 10, was decorated in Wi.nnie the Po.oh and his friends. My favorite storytime "record" (remember those?) was all about Po.oh. I loved Po.oh so much that back when Hubby & I were optimistic about having our own baby, we planned to decorate the nursery in all "Classic Pooh" items. And ten years ago, "Classic Po.oh" stuff was difficult to find. So any time we would find something that might fit in with our nursery theme we would try to pick it up. Now we have all this "Classic Po.oh" stuff collected and yet, no nursery to decorate. Or fill. And in those ten years I've now seen at least three of my family members and friends have babies and provide them with all the "Classic Po.oh" stuff that I wish I could give my own child. I managed to find ways to distract myself for the remaining time we were there, but there just seemed to be this miniature black cloud hanging over my head. And later on that night after getting back to our uncle's house after 2 am ... and after Hubby (who did all of the driving) crashed into bed, I stepped in the shower and silently mourned yet another wish unfulfilled. And I realize now that I'm not strong as I thought I was.

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Emily — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:04:49 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:06:17 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:07:44 +0000

Family Bubble

Emily — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 23:09:26 +0000

Well ... it's been a week or so since I last posted or responded intelligently to the few blogs I had a chance to read over the past week. Trust me ... it's not for lack of wanting. Rather, I appear to be "paying" for that mini-vacation I took to Orlando. Like I mentioned in this previous post, the theory of having more work to do prior to and after returning from vacation is a definite. Not only has work been a killer, but life after work has been pretty hectic too. Which, of course leaves little time to read, let alone comment on blogs or even write a post for me-self. But that ends today. On my scheduled day off from work. Well, at least for a couple hours anyway ... just got done running around town and doing yardwork. And now I've got a couple hours before Hubby gets home from work. How was our mini-vaca? In a word ... FUN! Our goal was to create time to spend with our cousins outside of the usual weddings and funerals. We wanted to make it a bigger group of cousins, but timing allowed for the majority of the cousins to do it on that particular weekend this year. We're hoping to start planning next year's "reunion" by the end of this summer. Hopefully that will give the rest of the cousins ... not to mention our parents ... the time to set aside the date. Next year, we're thinking lakefront cottages on the west coast of Michigan. If you've never been there, you're missing out! Did I mention we stayed at Hubby's uncle's house in the Orlando area? I say uncle, but really he's only a couple years older than Hubby. And although there's a bit of a "cultural difference" (a-hem ... meaning he was born and raised in the Philippines while Hubby & I have been strongly influenced by the American cultures, as I've mentioned before in passing), Hubby & I get along great with him and his wife as we have some similar interests. Hubby's uncle and aunt (we'll call them E and ML) met and married about two years after Hubby & I got married. Two years after that (in 2000), their son ME was born. And another two years after, their daughter, J joined their family. But because they lived in Florida, we did not get to see too much of them over the first half of this decade. It wasn't until about late 2005 that we finally got to spend a little more time with their family, when they came up to Michigan for the kids' first experience with a "White Christmas." Hubby & promptly fell in love with ME and J. The two of them were so smart and so affectionate to us. While ME was quiet and shy, J was "Little Miss Personality." Six months later, the family flew back up for SIL's wedding. J was the flower girl and was loving every minute of it, while ME enjoyed his time with the other younger male cousin's and with our nephew. Prior to the Orlando trip, the last time we saw ME and J was for Hubby's grandmother's funeral in Virginia Beach. And while it was overall a somber occasion, we did get to spend some fun time with them as well as the rest of the cousins. (In fact, this is what spurred the cousins to try to get together in the first place!) While playing a board game at this Virginia Beach gathering, I was amazed to see how incredibly smart and logical that ME and J were. Not that our other cousins and our nephew weren't also being smart and strategic ... it's just that with these two cousins, they had this reasoning behind their actions that reminded me so much of how Hubby & I think. I was floored by that observation. Also, during one of the more somber moments of that trip, I stumbled upon E and ML with their kids while they spent some private "family time" together. J was sitting on E's lap while ML and ME sat on either side of them. They happened to be reading a story book together and I could sense the intense love and closeness that they all had for one another. It was as if they were in their own, impenetrable family "bubble" that no one could ever take away from them. It was that image and the previously mentioned observation above that it suddenly hit me square in the chest. That ME and J were the living incarnate of what I always thought our children would be, if we ever were able to produce our own biological children. I can't remember if I told Hubby that comment back during that Virginia Beach trip or not ... but I certainly did this time, after our Orlando trip. On the car ride home after arriving from the airport, I turned to Hubby and told him how I thought ME & J were who I always imagined that our kids would be like. Hubby said nothing for a small spell and then said, "I know." Those two words simutaneously filled my heart with absolute pure love and broke it into a million pieces. That's because we won't be able to have a son like ME, who is shy and reserved just like Hubby. Who, as his parents claim, is such a big bookwork like Hubby & I both are. And who likes to draw comic books as much as Hubby loves to read and collect them. Nor will we ever have a daughter who has such an infectious laugh with enough sass to light up all of Disn.eywo.rld, just like (according to my Mom, anyway) I was when I was around her age. Who, in her parents' opinion, feels the need to include everyone in anything she does, much like Hubby & I do. And who loves to be out in the sun and at the beach as much (if not more) as I do. Because, while I know there are different ways that Hubby & I can have that dream ... have our own image of that "impenetrable family bubble" ... the reality is ... we are not going to be able to pass on those unique biological and genetic traits to our future children. And that's one H*LL of a big bubble to have had burst.

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And now, for your viewing pleasure ... some pictures from our Orlando Vacation

[rockyou id=115466203&w=426&h=319]

Dawn of Summer

Emily — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 13:04:49 +0000

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.

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And now pics from our impromptu Chi-town Trip

[rockyou id=115815389&w=426&h=320]

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Emily — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 04:17:25 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 23 Jun 2008 04:23:24 +0000

Heinz 57

Emily — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 15:53:06 +0000

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.

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Emily — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 20:10:20 +0000

029

Emily — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 20:11:23 +0000

Reading & 'Riting

Emily — Thu, 03 Jul 2008 20:13:25 +0000

Well, today is Day 5 of our vacation in the Banff, Alberta area. We've been so busy since arriving to this beautiful area that today is the first day I've actually had the chance to sit down and write. And to tell you the truth, I'd rather be finishing up the novel I started reading on the plane ride down here than compose a string of words to form a sentence. BUT ... I figured if I don't do it now, I may never get around to it until I get back. And quite honestly, I think I'd forget all that we've done here on our vacation. I have to tell you, I am so utterly enthralled with the scenery surrounding Banff National Park (BNP). Not only do the majestic mountains continuously surround you at every turn, but all the water ... Ack! It's pure heaven for the Cancerian water-sign girl in me. The colors are simply amazing. You know how when you see pictures of certain bodies of water that are so brilliantly blue in color but when you actually see the water with your own eyes ... it's just this brownish-greyish color? Nope. Not here. Every picture I've ever seen of Lake Louise captures the exact same hue of turquoise that I've now seen IRL. It's. That. Brilliant. And pretty much every lake we encountered was that shade of blue or ... gasp ... even deeper. The thing about Lake Louise though is that it's an incredibly calm and quiet lake. So quiet that the surface of the lake actually looks like glass. And because its surrounded by these beautiful mountains, you can actually see the reflection of them in the water. Hubby & I decided to rent a canoe for the hour to try to make it to the other end of the lake, but nope ... we didn't make it. However, in the process we were able to get some incredible pictures that we would have never been able to get otherwise. Out of all the things we've done thus far, I have to say that canoeing Lake Louise was one of the brightest highlights. Not that we didn't do other sightseeing things ... in fact we did do quite a bit in these past five days. We took a gondola ride up Sulfur Mountain and then proceeded to climb the up to the summit ... something my Dad didn't think he could do and then did it on his own time. (Yay Dad!) We drove west on the Trans-Canada Highway and then up to the highest point of passing in BNP. Along the way, we saw more beautiful lakes and glaciers! I've never seen glaciers in my life, so to see how ginormous one is ... it was incredible. We stopped at Crowfoot Glacier, which was named because it was appropriately shaped like a crow's foot with its three fingers clutching the mountainside. Unfortunately, the lower finger has pretty much melted (damn global warming!) and all that's left is the top finger and half a middle finger (oh ... the jokes I could make ... :-p ). We've done tons of walking that we would have probably lost some weight. If only we didn't go around eating lots of good meals! One of the best things we did for ourselves was an hour-massage at a spa located by one of the natural hot springs in Banff. And despite the fact that we arrived about 15 minute late, not only did we get an incredibly relaxing massage but the staff was kind enough to actually give us the whole hour massage! What a great way to help us destress. We spent Canada Day (July 1st, for my fellow Americans) with my cousin and her hubby & 10-month old son at their house in Calgary. And that was just simply wonderful. So wonderful that I'll probably post more about it in another future post. And tomorrow on the 4th of July, we're heading back to Calgary for the day. For ... da da da dum ... the Calgary Stampede! Who'd a thunk that a city-gal would want to go see a rodeo or a chuckwagon race? Or surround herself with all things Country-Western ... Well, hey, because Calgary is known as the "Nashville of the North," I figured that "when in Rome" ... So that's what we've been up to this week thus far. Perhaps when I get back I'll have more stories to tell, along with pictures of my cousin and Hubby with their adorable 10 month old. And now ... back to reading. And relaxing. Have a great 4th of July, everyone!

Blowing out the Candles

Emily — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 14:32:46 +0000

Yes. So today's the day. The day I turn a big whopping thirty-six. Woo-hoo. (Uhm, yeah ... that was a sarcastic woo-hoo, if you didn't catch on.) It's 9 am this Sunday morning and I'm back at home from vacation, after arriving from the airport at about 10 pm last night. Did I mention how much I missed sleeping in my own bed? As much as I love traveling and exploring new places, I do enjoy coming back home and climbing into my cool, soft, comfortable bed. Nothing says "I'm home" more than that ... Okay, so I lie. No matter where we're at, being with Hubby is always going to be home. Must be the Cancerian in me. Anyway, I decided today that there is no way in H*LL that I'm going to catch up with reading over two weeks worth of G**gle Reader posts. SO ... I've made the decision to just clear any new ones off my list for now. I promise to be much better at reading and commenting this year ... but right now I just don't want to be overwhelmed and stressed over something like that. At least I can control THAT stressor. Speaking of stress, I mentioned in a previous post that I'd tell you exacty how high my blood pressure (BP) got at my Doc appt on the Friday before I left on vaca. It was as high as 180/100. Yep. You read that right. And the scary thing ... that's not the highest I've ever been. The first time I was diagnosed with hypertension (HTN) was after the last laparoscopy I had in October of 2002. I was feeling dizzy at work that following Monday after surgery and one of the many nurses at work decided to take my BP which was 180/110. So I drove my butt to my primary doc at the time (and got a d*mn speeding ticket along the way ... grrr), and was promptly started on the lowest dose of hypertensive medications possible. They didn't want to put me on anything stronger at the time, as I was still trying to get pregnant. Flash forward five years. My HTN has been "controlled" through a variety of different BP meds. Because since I'm not actively trying to get pregnant at this time, we've decided to try a little stronger medication. My baseline BP has been running in the 140's/80's. But nope. Not that Friday before vacation. Of course, it could have been that I was affected by white coat syndrome. But the truth is, it's probably because of all the weeks months of stress I've been experiencing in my life. A-hem ... let's recap what has happened in the past 7 months, since the beginning of the year. Hubby's grandmother passed away (bad stress). Found out good friend in Portland, OR is expecting (bad stress, but gotten over it over time). And within that same week, found out SIL was also expecting (bad stress ... and the jury is out still on how I'm dealing with it). Dad had a heart attack and subsequently hospitalized for three weeks after complications from surgery (bad stress). And have been going with him to follow-up appointments (expected stress) to make sure he follows up on his health (bad stress). But since he's "master of his own body," I've all but told him it's up to him how he wants to keep up his health (good stress). I've taken part in a work-improvement group (good stress) and initially have gotten negative criticism from my peers (bad stress) but have since improved as we continue to roll out changes (good stress) and work towards our end-of-July deadline (bad stress). I've seen pictures of my high school friend's new baby ... whose middle name is that of a Red Wings player, just like his older brother (actually ... good stress. I'm happy for her!). And I've been to Chicago a couple times to visit with Dr. Bro, Dr. SIL and the cat-nieces and dog-nephews (good stress). And I've just recently been on vacation in Calgary and Canmore / Banff National Park (good stress) with my parents (mixed stress). Except on the morning we flew out, Hubby & I had to drive back and forth from the airport to pick up our passports that I thought we left from home (bad stress). And now I turn 36, knowing full well I'm on the downhill slope of my already screwed up reproductive years (bad stress). So there you have it. I'm stressed. But then the question I always ask myself is ... Is this any worse than anybody else's level of stress? And why should I be sitting here b*tching about being stressed when there are probably so many more people out there with much more stress in their lives (uh ... cancer or unemployment, for example)? Am I being such a frickin' sorry a$$ for feeling so stressed and letting my health be affected by it? Seriously people. I'm not just being rhetorical here. I really wanna know. On a separate, but somewhat related note ... while in Calgary, we visited with my younger cousin (M) and her hubby (D) who just recently had their first baby (J) last September. M & D have been married now for at least 5 years (I'm so forgetful with these things) and they are the absolute greatest couple together, so I can't be anything but completely happy for the two of them that they have this incredibly beautiful son who ... even at close to 10-months ... has this incredible personality. And to watch M & D with their parenting style ... I couldn't be more proud of the two of them, knowing how much they've grown since last spending this much quality time with them. But as I was already expecting (d*mn infertility!), the hour ride back to Canmore from Calgary and the day afterwards was tough. It's that desire to have what M & D have; the wonderful baby, the teamwork and ... most importantly, the happiness that they have with taking care of J. Let me be clear here (for those non-IF readers), I don't consider the desire to have what M & D have is jealousy. Because to be jealous infers that I'm envious of what the two of them have and that I wish that the two of them could experience even a fraction of what I'm feeling with my IF. No way would I EVER wish that on them; they are truly a couple that deserves to have this happiness in their life. Okay, now back to the previously scheduled blog session ... As I was saying, it was quite a difficult couple days after that visit. My mind kept going back to all the disapoinments I have with myself and with my infertility. I kept kicking myself down for not moving any more forward with the adoption process which then made me feel like I am such a wimp for being so afraid to take the next step. Which then made me just so ... sad. Sad because during that visit, I also saw how much my parents love babies. How great my Dad is in getting babies (and any kid, really) to play with him. How my Mom tried to sit patiently until J came up her, but in the end went up to him because she couldn't wait to hold him. And seeing the look in their faces. Seeing how happy they were to be holding a baby. No, they didn't have to tell me what I already knew. I saw it in their faces how much they really wish they had a grandchild of their own. And. That. Just about. Killed. Me. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to feel these things. And sometimes I wish I wasn't so attuned to other people's feelings. I truly wish I could go back in time and change some events that may have affected my reproductive health (eat better, exercise more, see an IF specialist sooner, etc). And I absolutely wish I could give my Husband our biological child. So on this birthday ... you know what I'll be wishing for. Better health. More emotional strength. And a grandchild to give my parents who gave ME life on this day.

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Emily — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 14:53:22 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 14:54:35 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 14:57:43 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 15:01:41 +0000

Frankie Says ...

Emily — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 02:09:22 +0000

I saw a heartbeat today on an ultrasound today. Naw ... not that kind of heartbeat. You know, the one that pregnant women all over the world are excited to hear every time they go in for a prenatal visit? The same one that I wish I could hear as well inside of my belly if I could only manage to actually get knocked up? No, the heartbeat I was actually looking at was my own. I went to our local hospital clinic today to get an echocardiogram done. And may I add that I was quite surprised that it appeared to be functioning okay. And it wasn't blackened or hardened either. And ... Whew! I was happy to see that even after all the years of IF heartache, I wasn't all "Tin Man" inside! I'm not sure what the final results are just yet, but should find out in the next week or so. My new primary doctor ordered for this test to rule out any heart abnormalities as a reason for my high blood pressure. Personally, I think it's an interconnecting web of issues from having PCOS which makes me insulin-resistant. Numerous medical studies have shown that those with insulin-resistance eventually develop atherosclerosis (or narrowing of the arteries) due to the excess build-up of insulin in the blood stream. And when you have narrowing of the arteries, you eventually develop higher blood pressure readings. But that's just in my humble opinion. Add to that the whole stress thingy. Yes, I do know I was whining about how stressed I was in my last post. (I'll chalk it up to being pooped from traveling the whole day before and to being overly emotional on my birthday.) And no, I didn't mean to say that I have it all so horribly bad. I was merely pointing out that I've been trying to deal with a lot of stuff over the past 7 months. And according to this Life Stressor Calculator, I apparently have a "medium susceptibility to stress-related illness". So yeah, I need to find a way to relax. Speaking of relaxing ... I was reading Kate's most recent post (and the subsequent posts she linked to) about the whole "Frankie.Goes.To.Hollywood" relax bit. And how none of us should discount relaxing as a technique (much like acupuncture) to prepare a woman's body, mind and soul into the next phase of her life. In this case pregnancy. And I agree with her, whole-heartedly. But let me emphasize one thing here. I. Still. Hate. Being. Told. To. "Just Relax." And if any one person gives me that sorry piece of a$$vice again ... I can't promise that I won't get physically violent. Just a warning ... :-P The sad thing (and trust me, I know this is sad. Really pathetic, actually), is that I simply do not know how to relax. Yes. Sad. Pathetic. And stupid, too. And probably the reason I can't promise to remain calm when someone tells me to relax. No matter what I do (deep breathing, meditating, exercising), I can't seem to calm down. My G*d, even while on vacation, I still couldn't 100% relax. It's like my mind constantly runs at 150 mph; always thinking, always problem-solving, always trying find a way to make things work. Like now. I'm actually running through my head exactly HOW I can get myself to just kick it back and chill. I've tried to take up different hobbies like knitting ... which I honestly like to do ... but then I find myself getting stressed over screwing up the pattern or something to that effect. I've tried to just sit in a quiet room and do absolutely nothing ... and then I start freaking out about all the other things I should be doing (like cleaning the house, or laundry, or yardwork). The same thing goes for anything else I might like to do ... like reading a book, or catching up on blogs, or even writing. I just simply find myself stressing out about everything. So ... for my health and my sanity's sake ... does anyone ... anyone have any ideas or suggestions on how I can "just relax"? Ack, so I just read the last few paragraphs that I've written. And once again, I feel like I'm painting a sad, pitiful and whiny portrait of myself. Maybe one day (you know ... the day I figure out exactly just how to relax), I'll find a way to paint a different ... sunnier or brighter ... portrait. Until then ... I give any of my readers full permission to simply just skip the pathetic parts.

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Emily — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 04:06:32 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 04:08:01 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 10 Jul 2008 04:08:50 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 01:11:17 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 01:13:14 +0000

Rinse and Repeat

Emily — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 01:14:29 +0000

I've finally sought some professional help. Okay, so technically I've already been seeing a wonderful therapist (... who completely ROCKS, by the way). But that's not the kind of help I sought out this morning. You see, I have been absolutely sick since coming back from vacation. Yes, I initially thought all the deathly-doggedness and weariness was simply from a stupid case of jet-lag. And then I thought ... only a 2-frickin'-hour time difference? How can it be jet-lag? And then I started with the runny nose. And the congestion. And then came the sore throat and the cough. By Wednesday, I thought I got over the hump and was back on the road to recovery. But then I lost my voice on Thursday and then developed soreness on my ribs from all the frackin' coughing on Friday. So after a night of coughing up yucky stuff ... oh, and my lung ... I broke down and went to an urgent care center this morning. Because I thought I might be able to kick this sickness with lots of juice and soup and fluids all on my own. Alas, the stubborn nurse in me finally broke down and kindly asked for some help (read: magic candy pills) in getting rid of this bugger. So Dr. Candyman so abliged after looking at my nose and throat (all swollen) and listening to my lungs (nice and clear). "Bronchitis," he says and tells me to take it easy for a few days. Sheeee-it. Can't I at least have a note for work excusing me for ... oh, I don't know ... the next twenty years?! Anyway .... Thank you thank you thank you for all those that have told me I'm not the only one out there that can't "just relax" and also for those that have offered wonderful relaxation tips. Reading all your comments has just made me smile a little longer, laugh a little louder. I seriously don't know what I would do without my bloggy friends. Geesh ... it still astounds me that after eeons of IF issues, I've only found this method of support a year ago. How I ever survived before finding you all is nothing short of a miracle. Oh yes ... now I remember. I just went day to day simply in survival mode ... Wake up, go to work, come home, spend time with Hubby, and sleep. Rinse and repeat day after day after day. It's still the same rinse cycle I live in, but at least this detergent has color-guard in it ... to prevent colors from fading. If you didn't get my sad attempt at making a clever wordplay ... you guys add color to my otherwise lack-lustered world.

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Emily — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 05:40:23 +0000

040

Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:48:06 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:50:15 +0000

042

Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:52:11 +0000

043

Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:53:17 +0000

044

Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:55:06 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 02:58:48 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 03:02:08 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 03:02:59 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 03:05:00 +0000

Birth. School. Work. Death.

Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 03:06:33 +0000

Kudos to anyone that can remember the name of the 80's band that recorded the title of this post. My last post had me pulling this song out of thin air. It was the whole rinse and repeat life cycle that I've been living in for so long that had me chanting the chorus (and subsequent title) of this song. I remember singing this song in high school thinking, "Oh G*d. Is this all I have to look forward to after college?" The thought of just working day in and day out for the rest of my life just seemed pretty, well ... boring. Now realistically I know that life is not broken down into just those four stages. There are many more milestones to pass before we can get from one stage to the next. Going through school alone takes, at the very least, 12 years of our lives. Personally, I can remember a lot of "firsts" during those years. The first day at school. The first time I got a bad grade. My first crush. My first boy/girl dance. My first kiss. My first job; which was also my first time being discriminated upon simply because of my ethnicity. My first road trip; which was followed shortly by my first speeding ticket. And I certainly remember the sense of accomplishment I felt after surviving all those "firsts." And then there was my graduation from college, which would symbolize the end of my formal education. I distinctly remember how wide open the world seemed after that moment; so many opportunities available within my reach. I could have traveled the world at that time. I could have continued on to get my masters in Nursing (which I still could, I suppose). But the truth is, I chose the path of which I thought was of least resistance. The Asian-American in me did what every good Filipina does. I lined up a job right away and started my orientation before even attending my official graduation ceremony ... before even taking the NCLEX (RN licensing board exam). Hubby & I got engaged shortly after that and then the focus was on saving money for the wedding and for a house. I don't regret the choice I made, because quite frankly, I had a lot of fun those first few years after college. I had an awesome job with awesome co-workers. I moved out my parents' home (against their wishes, mind you) and into my own apartment. And of course, had the joys of being newly engaged and planning a wedding. And then the fairy tale wedding. A gathering of family (trust me, there was a lot of extended family) and friends from both parents' side as well as our own. Great music, good food, and just pure joy and happiness. It was, and I can honestly say this without prejudice, the best day of my life thus far. We found our house within months of our wedding and moved in the day after Thanksgiving that year. We didn't have much to fill the home at the time, but it was our own abode. Our first home. Ten years later, we have filled that house, and have pretty much outgrown it. Too much junk for two pack rats that tend to keep everything. Too much clutter to constantly be picking up after. Two cats and a dog inhabit the home and shed all over our furniture and our clothes. We have shelves among shelves (not to mention random stacks) of books. We have a lawn that we can barely take care of, because quite frankly, we just hate yard work. And that's because we're work-aholics. While I'm not in love with my job, I'm good at it and I constantly have ideas to make processes flow better ... which tends to get me in trouble sometimes. But I'm appreciated at work ... and that makes the world of difference, knowing that I am making a difference. And Hubby? While he tends to downplay his talent, I consider him very innovative and groundbreaking with his design. He has this love of typography (that I have since picked up) that, in my mind, makes for smart and witty design. I respect him immensely because, as a Filipino-American ... going into an industry that isn't related to health care or engineering or accounting (at least here in the Midwest), is a sacrilege. Unfortunately, since moving to a smaller ad agency with more conservative clients, he has not had that much opportunity to do the innovative design work that he loves to do. And that simultaneously frustrates him and pushes him to work harder. And longer. So what am I getting at with my rantings about the life cycles ... and particularly work? Well, it goes back to the song. And where I'm at. Or rather, where I'm stuck at. It's that part of life that comes after love and marriage. Yup, that baby carriage. Or in my case, the lack of one. And here Hubby & I lay. Stuck in the "work" cycle of our lives. Our lives revolve around what we do best in life ... which is work. Many family members and friends claim that we devote too much of our lives to work. That there is more to life than working. And for them, there probably is. They have family to tend to. They have children to care for, to raise ... to be responsible for. They have other priorities in life. While being childless certainly makes a big difference in the priorities of our daily life. And while it's also the largest disappointment in my life that I can't produce a biological child of my own ... that's not the only reason I feel stuck. It's that feeling of being alone. Because, in my humble opinion, being childless (and not by choice) tends to lead to a somewhat isolated life. Yes, I realize that this is no different than most people with a life-threatening disease or condition may feel. And I know it's no different than, let's say the loss of a child. While I, in no way, mean to belittle these circumstances ... it's just that it goes back to the "physical-ness" of these events. These are things that people can actually see. Or touch. Or understand why someone would feel so hurt or heartbroken. These are things that people can actually "put a finger on" when it comes to expressing sympathy for someone. With being infertile (and therefore childless, in my case), most people cannot comprehend the pain that comes with being left childless. Most people that I have encountered that see we are without kids automatically assume that it's by choice. And since we spend so much time at work, that we're just not "settled down enough" to start a family. Thus the conversation always turns to why we don't want kids ... which of course, is furthest from the truth. And the subsequent nodding and vacant stares from these same people, as we vaguely explain that we're "still waiting for our miracle." And so that's how the isolation begins. We've either became isolated because a) we've refused to fully divulge our infertility issues, or b) we have told them too much and have thus eliminated about 90% of conversation with those who do have children. Because really ... how can life with children not encompass every aspect of a person's life? How can one with children not be able to bring up what their sons or daughters are up to? Or how their children are taken into consideration when deciding on simple things ... like what they're going to do for dinner. Or even more complex things ... like deciding on which presidential candidate will best help their children's future. Depending on the person or persons, I can handle conversations like that. And I can have great conversations with certain people and relay to them that not everyone can identify with how it's like to live a life with kids. But for the majority of people ... I find that I'm too nice of a person to push the subject. And besides, I hate confrontation. In addition to being stuck, to remain childless, especially after this past birthday, has also created the feeling of being "left behind." Over the past ten or so years, Hubby & I have encountered many couples who have since gotten married and subsequently started their family right away. Some of those couples have also had issues trying to get pregnant, but had ultimately been successful. We've watched other family members and friends move forward toward the next milestones in their lives ... their first pregnancy, their first child followed by many "firsts" for that child (first smile, first word, first step, etc). While Hubby & I are simply left in the shadows. Ironically, Hubby & I were one of the first couple among our friends and family to get engaged. The first ones to plan a wedding. The first ones to get married. I can say, hopefully without sounding arrogant, that we were a couple that many of our friends and family looked up to. We were not the usual older Asian couples that most of us grew up around. They were more afraid to show any type of affection amongst the conservative Filipino peers. And they, at many times, communicated with double-edged passive-aggressive tones with each other. We, on the other hand, were a couple that weren't afraid to show some PDA. We were a couple that geniunely listened to each other and communicated openly. And to the parents of our Filipino friends and family, we were used as "good Filipino-American examples": Happily married after finishing college and establishing our careers. And now ... we're the ones left behind. We're the ones looking up to those family and friends who have now gone through all the milestones in life that we have ... and now have surpassed us. We're the one's on the outside looking in. We're the ones that long for the children that aren't coming. We're waiting for the next milestone to surpass, to knock my wedding day off its pedestal as the best day of my life. The next stage in the cycle of life ... And if we keep going in the childless direction we are at ... perhaps the next stage in life will be that very last one. Yes ... realistically I know life is not all about milestones and stages. Life is exactly what we make of it. And how we want to fill those times in between these moments is much more important the milestones that we pass. I'm just trying to feel my way around the filler time. And trying to find a way to feel less isolated and less like a fifth grader who just failed sex ed.

048

Emily — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 03:09:28 +0000

049

Emily — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 03:16:07 +0000

050

Emily — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 03:31:29 +0000

051

Emily — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 03:43:06 +0000

A "Hula"-va Birthday

Emily — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 03:45:20 +0000

Happy Birthday, dear Hubby of mine! I know I'm a day late in posting my birthday wishes to you on my blog, but as you already know ... we had one busy weekend!

First there was heading out to the movies on Friday night to watch "The D.ark Kn.ight" which you and I agreed was awesome. Too bad He.ath Ledg.er won't be around to reprise his role as the Jok.er ... :-(

And then Saturday ... on your actual birthday ... we spent the day in Ann Arbor, our stomping grounds during the fall football seasons for the Wolverines. Wasn't it fun checking out the Ann Arbor Art Fair? I love going to there every year because it always reminds me of the summers when we were still dating and the fun and interesting conversations we'd always have on the way to and from the Art Fair. I just find it humorous that we always come back from the Art Fair with more books from Shaman Drum Bookshop and clothing on sale from the various boutiques than we do actual art work! It's just so sad that very few indie record stores (that actually sell vinyl) exist in the area anymore ...

Ann Arbor will always bring back such fond memories of us and our college years ... when we would spend countless hours driving back and forth from Oakland University and the University of Michigan, just so we'd be able to spend time together. Remember the times we'd risk life and limb in the dead of winter just to make it to each other's place? Apparently not much has change in the eighteen years since we've been together (not to mention the twenty LONG years that we've been friends).

Okay, so that's not exactly true. I mean, geez ... we did age twenty years since then. We finished college and we've managed to have pretty successful careers. We got married and we bought our house. We've managed, between the two of us, to fill our house with books. And movies. And music. Not to mention photo albums. And cool electronic gadgets. And computers (many of which have been relegated to the computer "graveyard"). And pets, which have become our little mutt of a family.

But let's not forget the one thing that has always filled our home and our hearts since that incredible day almost 12 years ago. And that's the love that we have for one another. The one thing in my life that I am most grateful for. I thank my luck stars every day that we share the same love for one another, the same heart.

So today ... err, or rather yesterday ... I want to wish you a wonderful birthday. May the fun and happiness we've had in Ann Arbor and in every moment of our lives ... continue for years and years (and years) to come.

Sun-soaked*

Emily — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 03:48:03 +0000

I am home. Or at least where I feel like Hubby & I should be if we ever could afford to move out of Michigan. Hubby & I, along with our good friend J are here in San Diego, Cali. We arrived around 11:00 Tuesday night and spent the following day at the beach. Well, at least some of the day. We started the day out driving up to La Jolla where we had a late breakfast. The minute I stepped out of the rental car, I suddenly felt giddy. I turned to J and said, "I can already smell the ocean." The complete happiness around being close to the ocean must have been really evident, because this led to quite a discussion around my apparent need to constantly be around a body of water. "It's the Cancerian in me," I explained to J. "I just have this longing to be around water." Which is so true; the desire to constantly be close to a river, a lake or an ocean. "That, and the fact that I'm such an Island Girl at heart," making reference to the fact that I'm 100% Filipino. "Which is rather funny," said J, "seeing that you were born here in the US and have never lived in the Philippines." I could hear my Hubby chucking. After all, he was actually born in the Philippine Islands and moved to the US when he was 5 years old. "Yes," I said to J. "I know. It is rather odd." I explained to J that somehow being around water makes me feel so content. And happy. And less anxious or highly stress. Like I do when I'm back in my regular environment. "It's like I let go of my Type-A personality when I'm in places like this." "I had no idea you were Type-A," J deadpanned. And we all knew that was furthest from the truth. But there's really something about being around the water that calms my anxiety. As we all sat on our towels later that afternoon on Pacific Beach, I felt peaceful. After playing in the waves, Hubby & I plopped down next to J, who was reading a book. We laid down on our towels, pulled out our books and proceeded to do the same thing. As I lay in the sun-soaked beach, I took in all the action around me. The chatter of the families around us ... the toddler next to us who was shoveling sand to make a castle ... the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore and then retreating back into the ocean. Wow, I thought to myself. Reading a good book and being at the beach?! Next to Hubby, these are the other two loves of my life. That's when I turned to Hubby and said to him softly, "I'm home. * Unfortunately, I forgot to bring the appropriate cables to download any of the pics I've taken thus far ... so check back next week when I get back to MI to see some amazing beach photos I've taken. Ack! How un-Type A was that?!

052

Emily — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 01:06:52 +0000

053

Emily — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 01:07:32 +0000

054

Emily — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 01:09:55 +0000

Blue Steel*

Emily — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 01:10:57 +0000

My day started of with Hubby not feeling so well. We're still in San Diego and, as of the end of today, we have two more days left to enjoy sunny California. I feel bad that he's got the scratchy throat and the hacking cough (which has progressively gotten worse), because I'm pretty darn sure I was the one who gave it to him. I tried to convince him to stay in the hotel room today and sleep, but Hubby insisted he wanted to return back for the second day of the San Diego Comicon. Apparently his love for all things Comics (which, by the way, is the main reason we're here in SD) superceded his need to get some well-needed rest. The next silly thing I did after dropping Hubby and our friend J was drive down a one-way street. But I swear to G*d ... the street was two way five feet ago! And then, in a blink of an eye, I'm suddenly dashing cars headed straight towards me. Probably not a wise thing to do, especially in the midst of morning rush hour traffic (and not to mention Comicon traffic as well). Last night, however, I vowed that nothing ... including almost getting into a head-on car crash ... would spoil my day today. That's because today, I had plans to meet up with Kara. As I approached the strawberry blonde gal studying in the cafe at the La Jolla mall we agreed to meet at, I was suddenly struck with such an almost indescribable feeling. It was like seeing someone I hadn't seen in a very very long time. And, at the same time, meeting someone for the very first time. Which, in essence, is the truth.

I've never met Kara in real life before, but by reading and commenting on each other's blogs, we both agreed that we felt we knew each other ... really got each other. And that was what made it seem like we've been the oldest and bestest of friends. Or,as we joked around, that we have been really good friends for like twenty or so "internet years." You know ... kind of like dog years in comparison to human years. So getting to really know one another, that is without the barrier of cyberspace, felt like a total piece of cake. I mean seriously ... the minute we started talking, we talked about everything. Even the things we couldn't really talk about on our blogs or comments. And we especially talked about all the emotions we had about our inability to have children of our own flesh and blood. And it was raw ... and sometimes tearful (okay, Kara ... I'll admit it! I was the tearful one! :-) ), but yet it was like a breath of fresh air. Because you know what? For once in my life, I was eager to talk about what a number IF has done to me. And how it's wreaked havoc on my otherwise normal existence. Or how it's changed me from a normally upbeat and happy person to such a jaded and sadly disappointed mess. And I could cry about it and not feel ashamed for who I am and what I've become. Because Kara understood. Without hugging me or saying a word ... I just knew she knew the shoes I was walking in. And I hope I did the same for her. So after like, more than an hour of gabbing at this cafe ... Kara insisted that we head out towards the beach. Because really ... I was perfectly content in sitting at this place and talking. But since I had already confessed to her (and the rest of the blog world) that I love the ocean and the beach, she was intent in bring me to the coast. And after a beautiful drive up the coast, we ended up at Il Fornaio, a wonderful Italian restaurant in Del Mar that has this amazing view of the ocean. We then proceded to devour the excellent breads and thin-crust pizzas we ordered. And we continued to talk non-stop. We talked about our parents and family. We talked about our love of 80's music. And, oh ... we talked about how our cute waiter with dark hair and gorgeous eyes reminded us of B.en Sti.ller with his trademark "Blue Steel" look in the movie, Zoolan.der. Lucky for us, he was a nice guy who, not only provided us with more of their excellent bread to take home, but also was more than willing to take a picture for us. (It's just too bad that I still can't download any of my pics until I get home ... grrr!) After lunch, Kara and I had to part ways. And yes, I was incredibly sad to say goodbye. And even though my Hubby's love of comics got us to visit San Diego, being able to meet Kara in person totally made my day and ... I'm being totally honest here now ... made my entire vacation! So Kara ... whenever you make it out to Michigan, you and Duane are more than welcome to visit us. And then we'll plan a Michigan IF blogger round up. Or better yet ... when should we start planning our trip to Las Vegas with the other bloggie friends?! Ack ... I miss you already! * Again, pictures to follow once I get back home. :-)

055

Emily — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 05:13:48 +0000

056

Emily — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 05:15:48 +0000

Emily Goes Green

Emily — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 02:40:17 +0000

First things first. Go over to Kara's blog and give her a virtual hug. She needs it right now. Alrighty then ... now that we got that bit out of the way ...

*********

So the title of my latest rambling is "Emily Goes Green." (Duh, sayeth the reader. The title is right there!) And no, I don't mean that I'm going "green with envy" ... although the fact that my SIL is due to deliver by c-section in a mere 4 weeks might have me feeling more blue-ish/green (turquoise, if you will) for a spell. I just hope it's not one of those spells that have me riding up and down and upside-down, much like a roller coaster. [caption id="attachment_290" align="alignleft" width="204" caption="Check out the "green" toilet in the Portland, OR airport!"][/caption] Nah, I'm talking about the "social awareness" type of green. You know, save the environment, Mother Earth needs to be nurtured, etc. You see, I've always been "green" in some sort of way since my later years in high school. Did a lot of recycling of paper, plastic and aluminum for most of my life. Collected newspapers for school recycling projects. (Heck, I've also been known to use the Sunday Comics as wrapping paper!) In fact, at work I've been called the paper recycle queen. I've collected the stupid d*mn banner sheets off of our printer / copy machines and have forced people to reuse the back of the banner sheets in our fax machines. I've encouraged people not to print up things that they can readily access off of their computer. I've helped to establish desktop faxing so there is less waste of paper. I've stopped buying bottled water and instead have been filling up my reusable water bottle from the filtered tap water in our cafeteria. [caption id="attachment_291" align="alignright" width="253" caption="Here's a closer look at the "Green" toilet instructions!"][/caption] And I do all this because I know (even before watching "An Incon.venient Tr.uth" ) that mass consumption is going to be the death of our earth. (Go see "W.all-E", by the way ...) So imagine my surprise when we went to pick up our rental car during our recent trip to San Diego (which, by the way ... pictures are forthcoming!) and found out that the rental company assigned a hybrid vehicle to us. Yeah, I was ecstatic ... because for the past couple years, Hubby & I have been thinking of getting a hybrid vehicle. Let me preface this by saying a couple of things:

We live in the Motor City, so everyone (and I do mean everyone) owns a vehicle because ... G*d forbid, we have any reliable source of mass transportation (and no, the Pe.ople Mo.ver does NOT count) ...
Hubby works approximately an hour and a half away from where we live and has single-handedly put on over 200,000 miles on both of our cars over the past five years or less ... AND
Gas prices just SUCK

So yeah ... having rented this vehicle just happened to provide us with a great opportunity for us to test-drive a hybrid. If only the first half hour wasn't so damn funny ... and I do mean funny as in "strange" and funny as in "ha ha!" Now, Kara ... I have to warn you, you've already heard this story ... so, turn away if you must!

*********

Okay, picture this. It's 11:45 pm California time (PST). Our friend J and I are waiting for Hubby outside in the rental car lot while he signs the paperwork. Hubby come out and excitedly tells me that they rented out a hybrid vehicle to us. And because we have about 5 bags (including our carry-ons) among us, Hubby said that he'd walk to the rental and then drive back to pick us up.

[caption id="attachment_296" align="alignleft" width="178" caption="The Magic Key"][/caption]

About ten minutes later, no car. Suddenly my mobile phone goes off and I immediately know that it's Hubby. "I need your help," he says. "Can you walk over to the car and take a look at something for me?" So I walk a couple hundred feet to the white To.yota Pr.ius, where Hubby has the car door open and is handing me a keychain containing two keyless entry remotes. "I can't figure out how to get to the key out to start the car."

I look at the little black rectangular keyless entry remotes and think that perhaps there's some sort of button on it to "release" the key; much like some other cars do. After about 5 minutes of pushing and pulling and sliding different thingies on the remote, Hubby decides to walk back to our friend J so that the two of them can bring all our baggage over.

In the mean time, I slide into the driver's seat to get to the compartment where the owner's manual should be. And then I see this green, glow-in-the-dark rectangle by the steering wheel. No way ... I remember thinking. It can't be that easy.

[caption id="attachment_303" align="alignright" width="213" caption=""By the Power of Greyskull ...""][/caption]

But sure enough, I take the keyless remote and slide it right into the green rectangle. And suddenly there's lights and a beeping noise as if I left the car door open (which I did) with the keys still in the ignition (which apparently the remote was the the key).

And yet ... no sound of the car running. "Oh," I say out loud, as I notice this big round button that says "Power" on it. Perhaps if I push the button .... but still nothing. By this time, Hubby & J are by my side, amazed that I even figured out how to get the keys in the car. And yet, every time any of us go to press the "Power" button, we would get no indication that the car was actually running.

So now it's about 12:15 am PST, which ... for those who just flew in from Michigan ... is about 3:15 am EST, the three of us had poured over the d*mn owner's manual with absolutely no idea on how to start the car. And all we wanna do is get to our hotel room so we can crash for the night. "This is ridiculous," says Hubby. "I'm gonna ask the girl inside." And so off he stalks.

Within 3 minutes he's back at the car. "She says to press the brake while pushing the power button." (Because that little bit of info is nowhere in the owner's manual!) And so he complies. Bingo ... the digital odometer finally appears as well as a slew of other important car features (climate control being my priority, of course!). "There we go," says Hubby, as he starts to shift the car into drive. [caption id="attachment_300" align="alignleft" width="251" caption="The Funky Gear Shift (and the Park button, too!)"][/caption] "Wait," I say to Hubby. "Are you sure it's even running? I don't hear a thing!" "It is," Hubby assures me. "The girl said the engine is extremely quiet, so it always tends to fool first-time hybrid users." After that, he presses the brakes and places the car into "Drive." And once he lets go of the gear shift, it promptly returns back into neutral. "Weird," Hubby says and tries it again. And once again, the gear shift returns to the neutral position. J and I look at each other and I know we're both thinking the same thing: "How the h*ll do we get this car to move forward. Or backward. Or at all?!"

"Oh, I get it," says the driver. "I think the gear shift is a simple lever." Sounds strange, but I knew that Hubby meant that really ... the car could move either forward or reverse at the touch of a button. But because we've all gotten so used to the concept of a gear shift, the carmaker developed a contraption that works very similar to what we were familiar with. And once we all understood that, Hubby "pseudo-shifted" the car into Drive," and finally got the car to move forward.

[caption id="attachment_299" align="alignright" width="220" caption="Wicked (and I mean WICKED) Interior"][/caption] In the midst of our short drive to the hotel, we discovered other crazy things about the car. For instance, the digital display monitor is multi-functional and controls not only the interior climate but the radio tuner as well. And when the car is placed in reverse, the digital display monitor functions as the screen for the "backup camera" feature, which allows for a view of the car's rear area. "How frickin' cool," we all think when we see it for the first time. By the time we pull up to our hotel, it's about 1:00 am PST (4:00 am EST, if you're keeping track of how long our day has been). "Uh ...," says Hubby. "Now how do I put this sucker in park?" I glance over at the display and confirm that there is no "Park" option in the gear shift. I shrug my shoulders as Hubby and I both happen to catch this little sticker label right by the gear shift. "Push the 'P' button to place in Park," Hubby reads out loud.

*********

So yeah ... that was our first ever experience with a hybrid vehicle. I have no idea if this is what other hybrid vehicles are like, but this one certainly had the three of us simultaneously banging our heads up against the car window and laughing our a$$es off.

[caption id="attachment_301" align="aligncenter" width="339" caption="Making the world a little greener ..."][/caption]

Now ask me if I'd ever drive another To.yota Pr.ius again, and the answer is a resounding yes. After figuring out how to work everything in the car, the little bugger was so d*mn cool. But the best part was ... after about six days of driving the car essentially all over San Diego and as far up as Del Mar, we only used a half a tank of gas. That's almost 250 miles of driving at a mere 4-5 gallons of gas.

Makes me wanna paint the whole world green ...

057

Emily — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:16:07 +0000

058

Emily — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:20:26 +0000

059

Emily — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:22:39 +0000

060

Emily — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:24:21 +0000

061

Emily — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 04:32:21 +0000

062

Emily — Sun, 03 Aug 2008 23:48:48 +0000

063

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:25:18 +0000

064

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:31:57 +0000

065

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:34:03 +0000

066

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:36:18 +0000

067

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:39:20 +0000

068

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:57:15 +0000

069

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 00:58:05 +0000

Emily the Groupie is Dead

Emily — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 01:04:32 +0000

[caption id="attachment_325" align="alignright" width="219" caption="INXS Album Cover, circa 1985"][/caption] Alright kiddies ... this is gonna be one of those posts where we go back in time. Where we peer into the past to discover a little more of my younger years. And why, may you ask, did I decide to to this today? Well because today marks twenty-two years since the beginning of my obsession with all things INXS. So sit tight ... and prepare to laugh your a$$es off ...

****************

Picture this, I was all of 14 years old about to start my first year in high school. My cousin in London, Ontario called up and said, "Hey Em. Are you and your brother interested in seeing INXS over here?" Of course, I jumped at the chance ... what teenage girl wouldn't? [caption id="attachment_317" align="alignleft" width="222" caption="The first band I ever "loved" ..."][/caption] My cousin and I have been known to share such similar tastes in music ever since a road trip to Florida when we sang the soundtrack to "Grea.se" pretty much all the way down. And with the advent of MTV and MuchMusic (Canada's MTV) in the early 80's, we were exposed to so much more diverse music. D.uran D.uran was one of our first "loves" of many to come over the next decade. Anyway, INXS was another one of those bands that I began to really like ... first because of their interesting videos, and then because of their music. I can remember being 11 years old and fascinated by watching "The One Thing" video ... you know, the one where they completely gorge themselves with this massive table of food? And I just remember really liking the catchy beat of "Don't Change". But I never thought more about them, other than really liking their music until that one fateful night on the 2nd of August, 1986. The year INXS was on tour for their "Listen Like Thieves" album. [caption id="attachment_329" align="alignright" width="163" caption="The glory of "Hutch" on stage"][/caption] At 17 and 14 respectively, my cousin and I had this need to somehow be in the front row for this concert. And since the tickets were general admission, we found ourselves sitting outside of the auditorium well before the doors would open. Our patience was justly rewarded as we managed to plant ourselves at front and center. What I can recall of that concert was just how incredibly raw and powerful their performance was. Even at 14 years old, I can remember thinking that I was witnessing an amazing band. Of course, it didn't help that my raging hormones couldn't keep my eyes of Michael Hutchence. Yeah ... back then, I had a thing for men with long hair and cool shoes ... After the concert, we thought of nothing but grabbing some food and getting back to my cousin's house, where we could just hang out with some of her friends. So we drove by the T.im Ho.rton's close her house, which just happened to be by one of the hotels close to the freeway. When we pulled around back, we happened to catch a glimpse of a purple tour bus. And earlier in the day, while waiting outside of the auditorium, we happened to see a purple tour bus. "Nah ...," we all thought. "What are the chances?" "What the hell," we all thought. "Let's just see if maybe they're hanging out close by." So imagine our surprise when we happened upon a very drunk Tim Farriss. But despite being completey sh*t-faced, he was a really great person. He was gracious enough to sign some autographs and pose for some pictures. And because he was so wasted, I'm sure he didn't mean to tell us that they were going to be checking out tomorrow morning. :-) So after staying up all night (fueled by T.im Ho.rton's coffee, of course), we came back the next morning. We did end up waiting quite a while in the car, but eventually (probably around 9:30 or so), one by one, the band started to surface. And honestly, since it's been more than twenty years, I can't remember all of the details of our chance meeting. (Although I'm sure I could probably dig it up from some of the old letters that my cousin and I wrote to each other.) I do remember that they were all incredibly nice and friendly. And probably pretty hungover, too. (Or maybe they just had cologne that smelled like bourbon? :-P ) [caption id="attachment_330" align="alignleft" width="229" caption="INXS, circa 1988, at the height of "Kick""][/caption] One memory I will always hold close to my heart is when Michael Hutchence found out that we (my two cousins, my brother and I) were all related. "No way, really?," he asked us. And then he spontaneously broke out into song with S.ister Sled.ge's "We Are Family." And now every time I hear that song, I can't help but smile and think of that day. And thus started my love affair with INXS. No, I did not follow them from city to city. Besides, back then I was (still?) a good Catholic Filipino-American gal. I did, however, religiously watch MTV trying to videotape any and every video / interview / performance I could manage to get. I never did join the fan club at that time, but somehow between my cousin and I, we would know exactly where the band was and what they were up to. Because of that, I consider myself very lucky to have caught INXS on tour back in September of 1987. This was only the second date of the US tour that the band did prior to the release of "Kick". It was one of those tours where the band would "practice" their new songs off their latest album to test it in front of an audience. And because the album was not yet released, there were very few new songs that any of us knew. But yet, I can remember being completely enthralled with it. Because, looking back now, I can remember thinking, "Wow. What a culmination of all their styles" ... Yes, the music geek in me thought that these songs combined the R&B / Soul of their "Shabooh Shoobah" album with the "'80's New Wave Alternative" album of "The Swing" and the ultimate "Rock 'n Roll" of their "Listen Like Thieves" and album. In.Cred.Ible. And may I remind you, once again, that this was even before the "Kick" album was even released?! (I must have been a "special" 15 year old back then ... yeah, special like "Ed.") [caption id="attachment_331" align="alignright" width="281" caption="I found this pretty funny ..."][/caption] Flash forward to college. By 1990, I had seen INXS a total of five times. (One instance back in 1988 had my mother helping my cousin and I "stalk" the band while they were back in Michigan. By then, they were incredibly huge and there was no way we thought we would find them. But alas, my Mom found them at a larger hotel where we were able to meet Kirk, the guitarist / sax player, in the lounge. Again, what another fun experience.) The album "X" was released that summer and I was working at a local record store (yeah, how '80's "Prett.y In Pi.nk" could I be?!). While those songs, especially "Disappear", served as awesome drinking songs during dorm room parties, I just didn't have the inclination to go see them when they came around in concert. First of all, they were huge. And second of all ... They. Were. Huge. How fun is it to go see them in concert when all I'd be able to see is a "leeetle" tiny spec of them from the nosebleeds seats? (Hey, I was in college then. I couldn't afford to buy the more expensive main floor jumbo-arena tickets!) So I passed. And then the last time I ever saw Michael Hutchence in person. It was 1994, the "Get Out of the House" tour. This was a tour to promote their latest album at the time, "Welcome to Wherever You Are". This was the type of tour where INXS wanted to return to the small bars and clubs of their earlier years. This was one concert I felt that I could not miss ... where else would I have the opportunity to see them up close and personal? By then, I was already in Nursing school and was dating future Hubby. I admit, I was a little concerned about taking future-Hubby to this concert. It would mean that I would have to "introduce" future-Hubby to the "other" love of my life. BUT seeing as future-Hubby stood in line all night long (while I worked the midnight shift at the local hospital as a Nurse Assistant) at the venue where the band would be playing ... the only location that tickets would be sold available ... I couldn't not take him. How cruel would I have been? [caption id="attachment_323" align="alignleft" width="146" caption="Uh ... yeah ..."][/caption] But even Hubby couldn't discount how incredible it was to see them at such a small venue. The fact that we happened to make it to the front of the stage just made it more spectacular. Also was the fact that we didn't get completely crushed up against the stage. Future-Hubby managed to make his way out of the crowd, while I wanted to bask in all of INXS (well, who am I kidding ... Michael Hutchence's) glory. And when a nice guy ended up shielding me from the pressing crowd and at the end of the concert gave me a guitar pick that he managed to catch ... well, I don't think that made future-Hubby very happy at that time. Today though, it happens to be a running joke about the one time I picked up some stranger at the INXS concert. And how he had the nerve to leave me to be crushed by the crowd. Good thing we can joke about those things! [caption id="attachment_327" align="alignright" width="201" caption="What an incredible loss ..."][/caption] And then came that fateful day on November 22, 1997. Yes, I remember that day clearly; the day that Michael Hutchence died. It started out with an early morning call from my cousin, of all people. The one and the same person who took me to that fateful concert 11 years prior. Both her and I were in complete shock. That summer, Hubby & I had plans to go see INXS again at a music festival put on by the local radio station. At the last minute, we decided not to go ... me thinking that I had already seen them so many times and that we'd have more opportunities to see them again in the future. How wrong I was. And for years I mourned what I considered "the end" of an incredible band. Flash forward again to 2005. Earlier in 2004, I had heard rumors about INXS working with Ma.rk Bu.rnett on a reality show to find the band a new lead singer. "Wrong," I remember thinking at the time. "Just Wrong." My thought is that the remainder of the band had every right to carry on ... but, how could INXS still be INXS without "Hutch"? Why not do like the remaining members of J.oy Divi.sion (who subsequently became Ne.w Or.der, for those that didn't know) and rename themselves? But ask me if I tuned in to watch "Rock.star: INXS", and I'd tell you that I did so religiously. I even voted every week online. Multiple times. H*ll, I figured that if my favorite band was going to invest in a new lead singer, I had to put my two cents in. I was originally opting for a female lead singer (LOOOVED Jor.dis U.nga), but then she got the boot. Then for me, it was a toss up between Mi.g Aye.sa and Mar.ty Ca.sey. Mi.g Aye.sa was half-Filipino ... so I reeeally wanted that connection to the band. And Mar.ty Ca.sey ... well, he was just different than Michael Hutchence. And if INXS was looking to go in a new direction ... well, I didn't want someone who try to "fit the role" of Michael Hutchence. Which is the reason why I was initially disappointed that J.D. Fo.rtune won. [caption id="attachment_328" align="alignleft" width="224" caption="Who's better ... Michael? Or J.D.?"][/caption] The absolute last time I saw INXS was early 2006; when they toured with J.D. as the front man. I just had to know ... had to see for myself if they made the right choice. I managed to get 2nd row and was I was incredibly happy that it was an assigned-seated event. (G*d musta known my 30-something body could no longer take the beating ...) And while I now know for sure that the remaining INXS members did choose the right person, I feel I can no longer enjoy the band as much as I did before. Don't get me wrong ... their songs are still incredible (especially "Afterglow" and "God's Top Ten", both which coincidentally happen to be songs written about Michael Hutchence) ... And my ears will probably have a tendency to perk up if I ever hear news about the band ... I just won't have that same love or passion as I once did for INXS. And thus, I'd say that 2006 was probably the year that Emily, the Groupie died.

****************

And now here are some personal pictures from my experiences with INXS

[rockyou id=119367685&w=426&h=320]

Emily Talks in Third Person

Emily — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 02:42:53 +0000

Emily realizes that, for the past couple posts, she's titled them in 3rd person. Emily thought it might be funny to do a 3rd title in 3rd person ... just because. But Emily also realizes she's promised to post pictures from her latest trips. Unfortunately, Emily's been known to be "trigger happy," so Emily has TONS of shots. So Emily has put them all on a few P.ica.ssa photo albums. Click on the album you'd like to see ... Emily hopes you enjoy the pictures ...

Banff / Calgary Vacation

San Diego Comicon 2008

San Diego, 2008

Going for the Gold

Emily — Thu, 14 Aug 2008 21:47:00 +0000

I've got to quit staying up so late watching the Olympics. Last night was the fourth night in a row that I've stayed up way past midnight glued to the peacock channel. Will any of the US men's gymnastics medal in the all-around? Will Phelps (Go BLUE!) break yet another world record? Will the women's gymnastics team get gold or silver? (And, by the way, who the heck names their baby girl Nas.tia?) Geesh, it's not like I could watch the highlights on the Today show the next morning. I admit, I've been a bad blogger as of late. I've not posted anything nor have I commented on anyone else's blog over the past week. And yet, I've been itching to do so. I've wanted to give Sara a big hug after hearing about her weekend trip the the hospital. I've wanted send happy vibes to Hope as she posted about meeting potential birth parents. I've wanted to actually DO the meme that VA Blondie tagged me to do (which I will eventually get to). And really ... I should be planning the future Vegas trip with Kara. Instead ... not only have I been watching the Olympics religiously, I've been diligently working on a secret project, which will soon be revealed in a later post. Oh, and working. Yeah, so let's talk about work lately. It's. Been. H*ll. And I don't mean that I've been completely swamped and haven't had a time to even take a potty break ... because that's pretty much every day. I mean that it's been very difficult to come in every day because of the people. Which sucks, because these are the people that you spend most of your days with. And normally, it's not so bad. I genuinely like and respect most of the other nurses that I work with. Each one of us bring unique knowledge and experience to the table and are easily approachable. But with the Michigan economy the way it's been, our department has been asked to work harder with less resources. Recently, we've been told that our company will merge with our bigger parent company to decrease overhead costs. Which of course, has all of us wondering if our Care Management department will be absorbed into our parent's Care Management department. Then came the other news. That apparently our department was a little "top heavy." And that two of our managers would be reassigned to other positions, if they so chose to. None of us saw that one coming, especially since one of those managers was mine. What seemed even more cruel was that the manager that would be taking over our area had made it known months ago that she was planning on retiring at the end of this year. So, of course the speculation is that upper management already has an idea about whom they would like to take over at that time ... and it might just be someone from our parent company. So that's the "politics" of what's been going on at work. Now ... the reactions amongst the staff have been ... mixed. For the most part, all are sad as we know how much our manager had contributed to the department. But then there are some that are extremely angry, while there are others that are relieved. Either way, it has created such a palpable tension in the area that it makes coming to work difficult. For me, it's been especially rough. Remember that work group that I was part of? The one that was working on improving processes within our department? Well, within days of this big news I started getting this gut feeling that those that were most mad about the situation, were blaming this work group ... and specifically me ... for the loss of our boss. (Hey! I rhymed!) And at first I kept thinking that I was just being paranoid. So what if the people whose desks were right next to mine would start having whispered conversations with those who came to visit them? Or if intense conversations would suddenly stop once I walked into a meeting room or the kitchen? I refused to believe that these professional people would stoop to gossip and rumors. But this is what these certain people did around me. And, I swear to G*d, it was just like being in high school again. I'd get the sideways look whenever our manager's name would be brought up. I'd get the blatant comments about certain things just so that they could judge my reaction to whatever they say. It was such typical catty high school female behavior. And maybe it's because I never had a sister, or a sister-like bond growing up ... but I had no idea how to act savvy or return the cattiness with any of my responses. So I've said nothing. And I've learned to stick my earbuds and turn up my i.Pod whenever I hear whispering around me. Maybe it's not the best thing to do, but it's the only way I know how to protect myself. And then yesterday happened. Which definitely confirmed that my gut feeling was right. Yesterday my now ex-manager returned to work. You see, she was on vacation (planned before she was ceremoniously "dethroned") for the past week and a half and was supposed to return to help transition our replacement into the role until her reassigned position was available. Except she apparently decided not to take that position and instead found employment elsewhere. But don't ask me to confirm this info, as she only decided to share this with a few select people. (Except maybe the fact that she was later escorted off the premises by our director was a good indication ...) No, my Ex-M wouldn't even look me in the eye. Nor would she say one word at all to me. And when I went up to give her a hug (as we've done before on other occassions warranting a hug), she stood as stiff as a board with her arms at her side. And then she walked away. Now, prior to all this drama I had a really good work-relationship with Ex-M. In fact, before Hubby & I decided to try IVF, I directly reported to her as a supervisor so I worked very closely with her. Even after I resigned as supervisor and once again became a regular Case Manager, I still felt we had a good trusting relationship. There were many times that I knew she had my best interests at heart and I know, for a fact, that she respected my decision-making abilities. So much that she was the one that asked me to volunteer for this process-improvement work group. And now ... she is, for a fact, going around telling other co-workers that I was the reason she was "demoted." That this process-improvement work group was the reason that upper management has decided to downsize leadership. And that somehow I was the one that had upper management terminate her position. As if ... (in my best "Clueless" voice). As in, how does a lowly pe-on like me have such clout? I mean, really ... So I was right to trust my instincts. And not get sucked into the whole "high school" games that are (still) being played at work. But now the question remains ... how am I going to survive going in to work every day? And crap. Guess I won't be using her as a work reference any time soon. Ack ... that trip to Vegas is sounding good, like right now.

I Almost ...

Emily — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 21:49:21 +0000

[caption id="attachment_361" align="alignright" width="151" caption="Hmm ... Didn't know storks needed parking spots"][/caption]

I almost ran over a pregnant woman today.

Really, I didn't mean to ... but her and her female fanfare (with her leading the way) were crossing the road at the most inappropriate spot at a local shopping plaza.

Being the decent (?!) person I am, I tried to pull down one of parking lanes to try to avoid the "preggo posse" ... especially since I was right in the middle of a complicated and busy intersection. But alas, they decided to walk towards my car instead, as if trying to cut me off.

So I did what any other person would do, regardless of whether the person was pregnant or not. I sped up in order to clear the path. And just as I turned down the lane, I heard two of the posse scream, "Hey! We're crossing!" Which was then shortly followed by "Can't you see she's pregnant?!"

[caption id="attachment_363" align="alignleft" width="179" caption="I "expect" to be a Mom one day ... so can I park here? "][/caption] Which, of course, I responded by giving the gang the universal sign for "F*ck Off."

But what was really going through my mind was ... "Exactly how many points would I get for running over a pregnant gal and her entire group?"

I am so going to H*ll ...

070

Emily — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 03:53:55 +0000

071

Emily — Sun, 17 Aug 2008 03:57:21 +0000

072

Emily — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 02:56:49 +0000

Penance Purls

Emily — Fri, 22 Aug 2008 03:30:21 +0000

In the years since my failed IVF attempt and the end of pursuing further infertility treatment, I learned to knit. A good friend of mine, who also happens to be a co-worker, taught me the basics of knitting during our lunch hours. And as I learned to knit, I found that it was a great way to distract me from the emptiness of infertility. Knitting gave me a purpose; it gave me something to work towards. Each knit and purl stitch I made got me closer to completing a project. And once finished, I felt as if I've put every effort I could into crafting something unique. I felt as if I've given birth, so to speak, to the sweater or hat or purse that I've made.

In the knit / crochet world, there is such a thing called a prayer shawl. The idea behind crafting this type of shawl is to give it to someone in need of prayer. Someone perhaps, who is going through a difficult time in life in which prayers are needed. That is because with every stitch that is knitted or purled (or crocheted), the person creating this artwork is literally saying a prayer for the receiver of such a gift. The best way I can describe it (in my Catholic-school upbringing) is that it's much like saying the rosary, but at the end of the prayers, you actually have something to show for all that you've done. And the best part of it is that you have the opportunity to give such a gift to the person you've made it for, knowing that you've sent good vibes / well-wishes (or whatever word you'd like to replace "prayer" with) to a person who is in most need of such sentiments.

I, myself, have never made such a shawl. Instead, I've made other thing like chemo caps for kids or premie hats for the babies in the NICU. What started out as a hobby for many of us at work, soon turned into a project last Christmas to make as many knitted or crocheted caps and hats for the children at a local hospital. For me, it was a way of honoring my nephew, Liam, who spent his whole 4 months of life in that particular hospital's NICU. When my SIL announced she was pregnant with Liam, the bottom dropped out beneath me. By then, I had spent ten years trying to get pregnant and had one (and only one) failed IVF attempt behind me. It had been two and a half years, at that time, since Hubby & I stopped actively trying. And as a first (or second, I can never get it right) generation Catholic Filipino-American girl, I worked very hard at stifling the sadness, hurt and anger so that I could save face. But the thought that my SIL (who, by the way, is the same age as I am) was able to get pregnant within five months of getting married completely and utterly devastated me. And when my SIL found out at 24 weeks that Liam would most likely be born with some congenital imperfections, well ... I guess you could say that I felt guilty (darn Catholic in me!), as if my jealousy and thoughts of ill-will were the reason behind such a difficult pregnancy. So what does all this have to do with knitting and the "prayer shawl" (besides the obvious reason for making caps and hats for the babies and kids in the hospital)? Well, during my SIL's 2nd trimester with Liam, I knew that I had to come to terms with this pregnancy. While I knew my feelings of longing for my own pregnancy would never be fully resolved before Liam's birth, I still felt as if I needed to do something to make sure that Liam (and subsequently, my SIL) knew that I would love him with every fiber of my being ... despite the sadness I felt for myself.

And thus, the "Therapeutic Baby Blanket" project began. Much like the prayer shawl concept, I crafted this blanket with an image of Liam in my mind. With every knit stitch I made, I wished love and happiness for every single day of his life. And with every purl stitch I made, I wished for forgiveness from both Liam and his mom for any ill-will I ever thought. I put my heart and soul into this blanket and its matching hat and booties. And because Liam came much earlier (by 9 weeks) than expected, I can remember rushing to finish this massive blanket in time for the baby shower (the sucker measured 4 ft x 4 ft!) , which subsequently turned into a "Welcome Liam" party instead. What makes me a little heartbroken is that Liam was never able to come home from the hospital and actually use the blanket. Regardless though ... I have to say that doing that blanket was simultaneously the hardest and simplest knit project I have ever done.

Now ... in a little more than one week's time, my SIL is scheduled to deliver (by c-section) a baby girl. For reasons that are hers and her husband's alone, the two of them decided to start trying immediately after Liam passed away last September. By end of December, she was once again pregnant. And while their new still devastated me (I mean, really ... how can she get to be pregnant twice in one year and I can't even get a frackin' positive pregnancy test?!), this time my feet managed to stay firmly planted on solid ground.

I can't say that I handled this pregnancy any better or worse that I did with my SIL's pregnancy with Liam. There are days where I still feel incredibly weary and downtrodden. And yes, there are days where I frankly don't think things are fair. However, I do know that I'm not as heartbroken and devastated as I was the first time around. I'd like to think that knitting Liam's baby blanket had a part in reeling back some of those emotions.

It was only natural for me to want to knit something for this pregnancy as well. Because yes, the good (?!) Catholic girl in me still felt horrible about feeling sorry for myself. And, at times, succumbing to jealousy. So with yarn purchased from both here in Ann Arbor and in San Diego, I started to knit my next project while on vacation in California.

I've poured my heart and soul into this project, officially known as the "Therapeutic Baby Sweater." And just like the blanket, I've projected my love and happiness with each knit stitch. And with every purl stitch ... well, it's as if I'm trying to make amends for every bit of sorrow and jealousy I've felt in these past 9 months. A penance, if you will, for the sins I've committed. My only hope is that whenever my SIL dresses her baby girl in this sweater that she knows, despite my actions (or lack thereof), that I love her baby girl with all my heart. That I am truly and honestly happy for her. And that despite the hardships endured over the past 18 months, she truly deserves this happiness.

"The Girl with a Thorn in Her Side"

Emily — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 22:42:28 +0000

Yup. There's always something about "The Smiths" that I can always relate to whenever I'm in a sad or pissy or panicky mood. And right now, I'm pretty much feeling all of those things. So, it's no wonder I've got one of my favorite albums of all time, "The Queen Is Dead" streaming from my ipod. And not in shuffle mode either ... because there's just something lyrical about the way the whole album plays out. Anyway ... As mentioned in my last post, my pregnant SIL is scheduled for her c-section later in the week. And I thought I was doing relatively well reeling back all of those waves of emotion. Really. I did. For a while there, I was actually excited for the end of the week to come. I mean, after all ... I absolutely love everything about a newborn baby. And I'm always in such awe when seeing this little life eat and sleep and coo ... So much that at times, it supercedes the feeling of sadness or jealousy. I would have been absolutely content going on feeling excited about my niece's impending birth, but then since when does anything ever stay the same? (Well, except for the fact that after ten-plus years I still can't get pregnant).

Behind the hatred there lies a plundering desire for love."

Yesterday at work, a co-worker who is aware of all the trials and tribulations of my IF journey, randomly asked how my SIL was doing. This is the same co-worker who's daughter at one time was also going through IF issues but with the magic of one f*cking round of Clomid managed to get knocked up. And now, four years and three kids later (the last two were completely "natural" as I've been told), this co-worker is just the proud little grandmother. But I digress ... Anyway, when this co-worker found out that my SIL was going to deliver in a matter of days, she was absolutely over-the-top excited about it. I mean really, she was literally jumping for joy. Now, okay. I understand being excited and happy for someone you know. But being that animated over a pregnancy for someone that you've never met? I mean, really ... don't you think that's a little too much? Alright ... given the events that had happened with my SIL's pregnancy with Liam, I'll give my co-worker that much. However, all I wanted was just a little bit of sympathy for me. I mean seriously, people. A little loyalty concern for my well-being would be appreciated here.

How can they see the love in our eyes, but still they don't believe us?"

Ugh. As if that doesn't make me feel sad and pissy and panicky (not to mention guilty) enough ... today I had a follow-up doctor's appointment after that first appointment back in June and the news wasn't so good. Blood pressure is still high (but not as bad) and my cholesterol and triglycerides are not good. So my doc and I talked about diet and exercise again and what I can do to get those blood levels down. And naturally the topic led to decreasing the stress in my life. And when she asked me exactly whether or not any of my stressors would be ending any time soon ... well yeah. I lost all composure. And that feeling emptiness ... you know, the one where it feels like you don't have a heart in your chest (or a uterus in my pelvis, in my case) overwhelmed me. Because the reality is that this feeling of stress and anxiety is not going to be over any time soon. Okay, the work one hopefully should wrap up in a couple of weeks once we officially close out this work improvement group. But the fact that in a few days there will be yet another child in this world ... in this family ... that I did not give birth to? That one will sting for quite a while.

And after all this time, they don't want to believe us."

I thought that maybe once the pregnancy was officially over, I might start to feel a little more happiness. That since my SIL will no longer be pregnant, I can start to mend my pain. And not to mention ... mend the relationship I have with my SIL. Especially with this pregnancy, as it's expected with relative certainty that my niece will be 100% healthy. The truth is, I should know better. Sure I still felt lousy even after my SIL's last pregnancy with Liam. I chalked it up to the fact that Liam was premature and was in the NICU. It would be only natural to feel upset and depressed over that. But today I realized that it wasn't just the fact that Liam was experiencing so many health issues that had me so sad. Oh no ... that sadness was just a branch stemming from my overall IF journey.

And if they don't believe us now, will they ever believe us?"

Because as I look back now... despite all the heartache and pain that came with my SIL's pregnancy and Liam's short life, I would do anything ... go through anything ... just to be able to experience creating and sustaining a life that biologically belonged to my husband and me. Even if our child would only be physically with us for four months. And now, knowing that my niece will be entering this world in a few short days, I will once again be witness to a biological life that won't be mine.

And when you want to live, how do you start? Where do you go? Who do you need to know?"
"The Boy with a Thorn in His Side" - The Smiths
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DYp2LGKOF_M]

073

Emily — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 02:18:52 +0000

074

Emily — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 02:30:28 +0000

Cue the Violins ...

Emily — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 09:00:39 +0000

... because it's a Bittersweet Symphony ...

We love you, Kairi ... Welcome to the World!

Love, Auntie Em & Uncle

[rockyou id=121489140&w=450&h=338]

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kairi Caitlyn (pronounced "kiy-ree")

August 29, 2008 7 lbs 14 oz 19.5 inches

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

075

Emily — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 10:38:27 +0000

076

Emily — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 02:45:22 +0000

077

Emily — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 02:50:35 +0000

Bring on the Comets

Emily — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 04:00:46 +0000

My Darling Husband,

Words alone cannot describe how incredibly lucky I am. Despite what my actions and/or facial expressions might sometimes portray, I am genuinely happy whenever I'm with you.

You alone, can see who I truly am. You are the one person who knows me inside out. You've seen my good days and my bad. You've seen my worse days ... and you still stand proudly next to me.

For that, and for many other reasons that I can't write in one simple post ... I am truly blessed to have you as my best friend, my husband ... my soulmate.

Happy 12th Anniversary to you, Hubby ... the love of my life

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Bring on the Comets"

[caption id="attachment_432" align="alignright" width="253" caption="Our Wedding Day ~ August 31, 1996"][/caption]

Suddenly, we were left Without the worry of tomorrow And comets fell from the sky I took your breath You took my sorrow

You walked sad in a dream But count your days boy, they are fading You set a fire in my heart One chance in a lifetime was worth the waiting [caption id="attachment_434" align="alignleft" width="196" caption="Ringmaster & Tightrope Walker "][/caption]

Let us go easy As we watch them hit the ground When the light is gone the memory of nothings left to sound Memories sweet whispers are all that we'll have left So fall into these arms tonight and share this one last breath

Bring on the comets Bring on the comets

Bring on the comets Bring on, Bring on Bring on, Bring on (repeat 3x)

- VHS or BETA

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4BL7JnJCVc]

078

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:16:25 +0000

079

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:21:13 +0000

080

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:27:18 +0000

081

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:28:46 +0000

082

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:31:11 +0000

083

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:34:52 +0000

084

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:38:08 +0000

I Don't Hate You

Emily — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:52:11 +0000

[caption id="attachment_453" align="alignright" width="133" caption="Hubby & Tyler (at 3 yo) "] I don’t hate you; because to hate you would mean writing you out of my life completely. And I simply will not do that. However I am guilty of other sins. Envy. Guilt. Complacency. And for that, I am truly sorry for. I am hurting. And the only way I have found comfort in this pain is to write exactly how I feel. As it is the same for you, I cannot speak of such pain. And to verbally tell someone of such emotions, truly makes me feel like I’m an idiot for feeling such things. Because what right do I have to feel this way? Am I not blessed to have a relatively good (but stressful as of late) career? Do I not consider myself lucky to have found my soulmate so early in life? Am I not happy that I still have the love and support of a husband who I can turn to in such times of deep sorrow and pain?

[/caption] For that, and so much more … it seems pitiful to “complain” about how I feel. So writing … yes writing … has been my only solace. It’s my only way to let others, who would otherwise not feel comfortable discussing such pain, know how I feel. My way of voicing those things I cannot say out loud. My only way to save face, so I don’t look like a complete sniveling doofus in the midst of everyone elses’ happiness. Because I don’t want to shove aside anyone else’s happiness. And yes, this includes yours. My wish is that my writing allows for those friends … those family members … to understand what both Hubby & I are going through. It’s so that you and others can know what it’s like to walk in our shoes. Because infertility is not a topic that anybody wants or likes to discuss. It’s awkward. And quite frankly, it has been my experience that not many people make the effort to ask us directly how we’re dealing with it and (more importantly) what is appropriate and not-so-appropriate to say to us. [caption id="attachment_460" align="alignright" width="149" caption="Hubby & Kairi"][/caption] So yes, I admit it … I probably do set myself up for the fall. But I’d really like to have some words or action … some indication, if you must know … that there is a safety net below. That there will be someone there, other than my husband, to catch me. Because what I say in this blog is my way of letting you in. I wish that everyone would understand that it is very difficult to just “let it go.” And to know that it isn’t so easy to “just adopt.” That to me, not being able to have my own kids is more than the ability to become pregnant. That not being able to form a life out of the love that my husband and I have for each other is THE ONE THING that hurts me beyond anything in this world. It is incredibly painful to me that I won’t be able to pass on my Filipino nose or my larg(er) ba-dunk-a-dunk to my child. Or that my child won’t have the lifeline palm or the short big toe, signature to each and every one of Hubby’s family members. And most importantly, I'm tremendously heartbroken that I am not able give this gift of life and love to my husband, my parents, my brother … and yes, to you and my niece and nephew. And that I failed miserably in life because of that. [caption id="attachment_456" align="alignleft" width="163" caption="SIL & Kairi"][/caption] So please tell me, as I have obviously not been able to move on … how do I get over my hardships and heartache? How do I mourn not receiving the one gift in a woman’s life that I’m not obviously meant to experience? Because I do want to take that next step forward. And I do want to stop feeling so miserable about the predicament I’m in. But … unlike you, who was able to ease your heartache with another pregnancy … (and please note that I said “ease” and not “forget”) there is no “Get out of Jail Free” card for me. There is simply NO EASY SOLUTION for me. [caption id="attachment_457" align="alignright" width="116" caption="Auntie Em & Liam"][/caption] I am honestly and truthfully happy for you. And I’m happy and proud that you have been strong enough to survive all of your struggles and heartaches you’ve experienced. And that you’ve been given multiple second chances in life. But I … right now, I choose to keep the one chance I have in my life because I love my husband and I love all the other things that I have accomplished in this one life thus far. And I'm simply just not ready to let it go right now. [caption id="attachment_459" align="alignleft" width="107" caption="Auntie Em & Kairi"][/caption] Because at this moment, moving forward to that next step of adoption … my second chance in life, if you will … would mean that I have to give up those certain dreams that I have wanted so desperately in my life. It means I have to, once again, lose control of my life when I just got some semblance of order. It means I have to find the strength and courage, both of which I have very little of right now, to start a new dream.

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Emily — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 21:00:00 +0000

Dirty Laundry

Emily — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 12:13:25 +0000

First of all, thank you for all that have commented on my last post. Your words have made me feel as if I'm not a complete a**hole for writing what I wrote. Because for a while there I felt that I was completely off-base and horrible to have said some of those things "out loud." And to some extent, I still do feel that way. I'm sure that this guilt stems from not only my formative years in Catholic school, but from my cultural upbringing as well. I've found out (from the years of working as an RN, alongside many other Filipinos) that most people perceive that Filipinos are hard workers and, no matter what gets thrown at them, they are always happy. Well, let me let you in on a clue ... That's because Filipinos are expected to be happy. Or at least appear to be happy. In my experience, Filipinos are expected to hide any emotions that appear negative. So if we're feeling sad, then the expectation is to hide that sadness. And (again) in my experience, the way that Filipinos hide that sadness is by focusing their energy on something that will "distract" them from feeling such sadness. And to me, that's probably where the "Filipinos are hard-workers" perception probably comes from. Because of that expectation to always appear happy, many Filipinos are not willing to talk about their sadness. It's that whole "saving face" issue. Expressing any negative emotions out loud would "doom" us to a life of isolation. We'd lose that ability to be amongst the "norm" of society. We'd be different and therefore others cannot relate to us or talk to us because they don't know what to say or how to act. And because sadness and anger make others feel uncomfortable, saying these things out loud ... or God forbid, even just looking or appearing despondent ... is considered airing out your own dirty laundry. Now, imagine having gone through 10+ years of not being "able to" express any of these emotions. Especially on how it relates to infertility. It's like having to sort through ten years of "dirty laundry" that's been piling up just to find my favorite t-shirt or pair of jeans. It's going to take awhile ... maybe not as long as it took to pile up ... but I've got to do a few loads and iron out a few details before I can once again wear those articles of clothing that made me look and feel my very best. In addition, imagine writing a blog all about what's bothering me. I'm absolutely positive that I've "lost face" within my Filipino circle of family & friends. Because believe me, I have felt the avoidance of engaging me in any conversation. And I've noticed the lack of effort on their part to find out how to appropriately discuss what Hubby & I are going through. So to those Filipino family and friends (and any other readers out there ... if I have any left ... who might not understand my cultural considerations) who say that it's been ten years and that I should just quit b*tching & complaining and "just move on" ... I hope they know exactly how hard it is to do so. Because there is TEN LONG YEARS of stifled emotions that need to be addressed before I can move on. I need to peel back the layers of disappointment, fear, anger and pain in order to find that happiness that I know is somewhere inside of me. And that is probably THE MAIN reason for writing this blog.

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Emily — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 14:14:44 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 14:20:32 +0000

Recharged

Emily — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 03:20:50 +0000

Last week went by in such a blur; not so much because it was a short work week from having Labor Day off. I think it had more to do with the emotional downfall I seemed to be experiencing since the days before Kairi's birth. Yes, I sucked at trying to stay off the not-so-amusement park ride, otherwise known as the roller coaster of infertility. But today ... this week ... I am making an effort to pick myself up and move right along. As to where I might be moving along to on this IF journey still remains to be seen. I still have a lot of "issues" to work out before I can completely move on. This relatively small turn in tides is due to a few things that have happened as of late. First of all, writing this post was certainly cathartic, despite the brief bit of guilt I felt for about three days after posting it. Then there were those readers ... those friends ... who actually made the effort to comment on both of those posts. Your words do mean a lot to me and I do take what all you say very much to heart. It shows to me that, despite the ramblings of anger, sadness, guilt and confusion, I'm not alone in feeling or expressing them. To me, that makes me feel less of a silly, pathetic person who "obviously can't let go" and more of a real person with justified thoughts for all those emotions. I cannot thank each and every one of you enough for all your kind words. And not that I'm fishing for more comments about my posts ... but for those IRL friends and even those that may just be "lurking" ... trust me, a simple acknowledgement (whether by comment or quick email) to those bloggers that may be calling out for some love or support goes a LOOOONG way. And you never know, this may be the only way a blogger is able to let you in past the brick wall he or she may have inadvertently built around his- or herself. The last thing that helped me get through this difficult time was a quick trip to London, Ontario to attend LJC's bridal shower this past weekend. The two-hour drive one-way would be the first time I've ever made that trip by my lone self. During my childhood, the trip was made with family. And in the later years, it would always be with Hubby. Hubby was supposed to be with me on this road trip. However, a last minute decision (like less than 2 weeks) on his family's part to throw a surprise birthday party for his mom on the same day as the shower threw off those plans. Part of me was honestly kinda ticked at that. We had already made plans to make the trip to London to do a quick getaway from "things." And when I mean "things," I mean that we knew that the weekend before would be surrounded by "all things baby." Not that we didn't want to be there to meet Kairi and congratulate the proud parents, but we knew ... at least I knew ... that I would need to step back and recharge our emotional batteries. [caption id="attachment_561" align="alignleft" width="216" caption="Hubby & I as "Positive" and "Negative"][/caption] Because I knew that, even though we made the effort to physically visit SIL and Kairi twice while they were in the hospital, seeing that vision of "Mom and Baby" would stick with me (and to some extent, Hubby) emotionally long after we kissed and said goodbye to them. But now it was just going to be me going to London. And poor Hubby was going to stay at home and help out with the surprise party. And the introduction of Kairi to the rest of the family. Hubby, unfortunately, would have to deal with the family & friends ooh-ing and ahh-ing over Kairi (rightly so, by the way ... did you see how cute she is?!) and then turning to him to say, "Still no kids for you, huh?" So yeah, that's what ticked me off. And what also made me feel guilty for leaving Hubby there to fend for himself. I also can't deny that I was also excited to go to London by myself, either. This quick overnight jaunt to visit with the cousins I always felt were the "sisters I never had" ... Well, this would be the first time in a long time that it would be "just the girls." It would give us the opportunity to talk about "girl things" and other things that we haven't been able to talk about in a very long time. And although I didn't get to spend as much time with LJC, as she already had other wedding-planning related plans, there was still a good time to be had. Also, the one "sister" from Calgary wasn't able to make the shower either. But despite this, I was still able to spend lots of time with the youngest "sister" and her Mom (my Uncle's wife) and her Mom's two sisters. And while it may sound strange ... for the longest time, I thought that my cousin's aunts were also my aunts by blood as well. So after all the guests had left and the dishes cleaned, it was no surprise that we all sat down in the kitchen to relax. After all, that's where I can remember many long conversations and discussions taking place in my youth. Except this time I'm much older, as is my youngest "sister." And we're talking about American and Canadian politics. And infertility. And all of my "aunts" and my "sister" are asking me honest-to-God actual questions and actually looking at me and responding to me at the appropriate times. Yup, that's right. These family members that I haven't had much contact outside of weddings (and more weddings) over the past ten years were genuinely interested to know how I was doing, and how I was dealing with things. Real people. Right in front of me. Showing empathy and compassion for me. What. A Breath. Of. Fresh. Air. And at exactly the right time that I needed it, too. It was precisely what I needed to energize my batteries so I could still keep going (and going and going) ...

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Emily — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 07:07:42 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 07:12:53 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 07:14:22 +0000

Not Really In Your Head

Emily — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 20:52:22 +0000

Rollercoaster

[caption id="attachment_460" align="alignleft" width="119" caption="Hubby & Kairi"][/caption]

I still haven't got over it even now I want to spend huge amounts of time on my own I don't want to cause any serious damage I want to make sure that I can manage because I'm not really in your head I'm not really in your head

And I see love and disaffection and the clouds build up and won't pass over This is my road to my redemption And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway [caption id="attachment_577" align="alignright" width="159" caption="Tyler & his Uncle"][/caption]

I still haven't got over it even now I want to spend huge amounts of time in my room And I'm not coming out until I feel ready not running out for a while my heart's unsteady and I'm not really in your head I'm not really in your head

When your sky falls to minus zero well some things must disappear Oh this is my road to my redemption [caption id="attachment_574" align="alignleft" width="134" caption="Hubby, Jakobi & Me"][/caption]

And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway The names may have been changed but the faces are the same The names may have been changed but as people we're not the same And I'm not, no I'm not, no I'm not really in your head And my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway Yeah, my life is just an image of a rollercoaster anyway

-- Words & Music by Everything But The Girl

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3PSgM5yG9c]

Blogged with the Flock Browser

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Emily — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 20:54:13 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 21:09:37 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 21:18:35 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 03:35:49 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 03:41:57 +0000

Shades of Turquoise

Emily — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 03:45:48 +0000

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:

The weather's been incredibly crappy outside. It has been raining, what seems to be non-stop, since Friday night. And ...
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 ... [caption id="attachment_590" align="alignleft" width="144" caption="Another hand-knit Hat & Booties gift set to mail ... "][/caption] 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). [caption id="attachment_591" align="alignright" width="214" caption="Beautiful Turquoise Moraine Lake in Canada's Banff National Park"][/caption] 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.

Is There A Reason?

Emily — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 23:19:38 +0000

DENIAL

Is there a reason why the birth announcement was addressed only to my Hubby? Did you mean to only send the picture to your brother? Is it because you feel I don’t share in your happiness for the beautiful addition to your family? Because I am happy for you. I am excited for the birth of your daughter. This was something I know you’ve been looking forward to since the birth of Tyler. And since the passing of Liam. I know how much having a daughter means to you. I know that buying cute girly outfits was something you looked forward to doing when Tyler was first born. I know that you will savor the opportunity to dress your daughter; more so now, because you weren’t able to even dress Liam in the latest and cutest boy fashions. I know that you look forward to when Kairi starts to grow. To crawl. To talk. I know you are excited that this time “potty training” shouldn’t be as hard, as girls learn quicker than boys. I’ve known you for twenty-plus years. And even though lately we haven’t been on the same page, I can still read you. I know that what might sound vague, like a random Face.book status, is actually something quite literal. And I also know that when you try to make something random, like addressing a birth announcement only to your brother, it is actually quite deliberate. And the sad thing is? By addressing that announcement to your brother firmly puts him, once again, in the middle of things. Did you ever stop to think how this affects him? Your brother? My husband? But I digress …

ANGER

You can justify your actions by saying you’re “protecting me,” but I know d*mn well that you are angry at me. You are angry that I cannot share in the same joy that you have. I cannot jump up and down with excitement for you. And trust me, I know that it hurts like hell when you expect someone to be there to share these experiences with you … but they can’t. While I truly share your happiness for having that daughter that you’ve always wanted … I just can’t express it as you would want me to. And while I know that you want me to be around when Kairi smiles for the first time, or babbles her first word, or finally roles over on her own … I simply cannot be there. It’s not that I don’t feel love and affection for you or don’t love Kairi. It’s just that I cannot physically and emotionally be there for you at this moment. Because as much as I don't want to feel sad in front of you and the rest of the family, I cannot guarantee that I won’t be strong enough to hold back my emotions. Besides, if you really think about it … I don't think you'd want me to be there. You don't want to see me to cry in front of you. You don't want to see me quietly walk away into another room because I simply don’t have the strength to hold back the tears. And because I know you like I do … I know that you don't want me to feel the things I do. And you don't want to approach me at those times when I’m most vulnerable (which, by the way is probably the best time to do so). And it’s probably because it makes you feel uncomfortable. To put it simply … You don't want to have to deal with how I feel. That … That last statement is the gist of the problem here. This is why we’re at a standstill.

BARGAINING

You’d like me to be there with you … to put aside my own feelings and share with your happiness. To be the bubbly, excited person I can … and, quite frankly, am known to be. To simply be strong. To “buck up, l’il camper,” as we used to tell each other whenever we were sad. But the thing is, I just can’t “buck up.” (I can f*ck up … but that’s another issue). This is what got me into trouble in the first place. This holding back on my emotions … This stifling of all the feelings of sadness, resentment and anger and yes, jealousy … Bottling up all those things is what has held me back from progressing to the next step in grief. Remember Kubler-Ross? And her stages of grief? Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. We must pass through all, if not most, of these stages before we can fully move on. And as her model states, I may not necessarily go sequentially through each stage. I can be at the depression stage at one point and then in a nano-second, flip back to anger. H*ll, some days I’m right back in the “denial” stage! But the point is, I need to work through these steps ... these emotions ... before I can fully accept whatever the next stage in my quest for children may be.

DEPRESSION

So right now … at this moment … not being there to share in your joy is what I think is best for all involved. I protect myself from "putting my hand in the boiling pot." And you ... well, you don't have to snatch my hand out of the pot and run it under soothing cold water. I can save face. And you can go about being happy without worrying about what I might do or say. And although you've told me that you'd be there for me when I need it … let’s face it, you’re simply not. You’re way too uncomfortable to discuss these things. And me … well, I don’t want to take away from your happiness. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to enjoy all the things that come with having the daughter you always wanted. You don’t need me to be the “Debbie Downer” in it all. And I simply do not have the strength to hold back my emotions right now. The flood gates have burst wide open and every single thing I’ve felt about my infertility is finally … finally being released. After TEN LONG YEARS of stifling it … it’s time to let them out. Now whether you want to be there for me, as you’ve indicated in the past … that’s up to you. And your own comfort level. But truthfully, I no longer expect you to be there for me. Years of not physically reaching out to me when I needed it the most (like, for example, right after my failed IVF) have taught me that lesson. So maybe you should no longer expect me to be there for you, either.

ACCEPTANCE ... ??

And where do we go from here? I honestly don’t know. Believe me, I want to be by your side during this happy in your life. I want to help pick out cute funky stuff to dress Kairi up in. I want to be able to be the cool Auntie Em that takes her to do girly stuff when she’s older. And I want to be more than just your sister-in-law. I want to be that person that was friends with you before I started dating your brother. Before I got into nursing school and you didn't. Before I got engaged and you ... you just got dumped. Before things started to go so wrong in my life ... and so right in yours. Before our friendship became more of a competition about who's got it better. Or who's got it worse. Because this friendship was NEVER supposed to be a competition. This friendship was supposed to be about supporting each other through thick and thin. And if you were being honest with yourself, you'd realize that despite my (lack of) actions since announcing your recent pregnancies ... you'd realize that I HAVE been there for you. And despite how difficult it was for me to be with you during your pregnancy with Liam and through his (way too) early departure ... I was there. I just don’t know if you’re willing to accept that I do need your friendship. And that I do want to work things out. And most importantly, I don’t know if you’re willing to be the one to reach out and save this friendship. Because I’m just not that strong right now.

This and That

Emily — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 23:21:22 +0000

I debated for a bit whether or not I should have posted the previous blog entry. And then I decided I would … but would then password-protect it. After all this is my blog. It’s my journal and my lifeline to dealing with my daily life. For those readers out there that wish to read that post and follow along in my journey towards a healthier me … I welcome you to comment on this post. Thanks for your understanding …

We Interrupt ...

Emily — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 03:28:33 +0000

We (or rather I ) interrupt this regularly scheduled time for whining to bring you this special video. I am not much of a politically savvy person. However, when election time comes around, I do make an effort to find out more about each political candidate's platforms. Whether if it's by reading the paper or if it's by watching interviews or debates on TV ... I try to gather as much information about what each candidate can provide for us as the leader of our nation. Because, come Election Day ... I want to make sure that I'm making an informed decision. I'm not sure if it's the older I get, but the more interested I am in politics. Perhaps it's because what happens now will affect my immediate future ... unlike when I was young(er) and (more) naive in my early 20's. Or it could be because this election year has been one of THE MOST interesting "campaign seasons" EVER. Either way ... I just know that as an American citizen, it is my given right to vote and I should take that responsibility seriously. So with that said ... take a lookie-see / listen to this monologue by Craig Ferguson, which aired on his CBS late night show last Wednesday.

It's sexy (damn Scottish brogue ... melts me every time!!)

It's funny.

And it's IMPORTANT.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pdRVQ4xwwmQ]

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Emily — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 15:19:46 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 15:24:07 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 15:28:20 +0000

A Year Ago ...

Emily — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 04:01:21 +0000

A year ago this morning, I got a phone call from work. I looked down at the caller ID on my cell phone and saw that it was my SIL. And because, for various reasons, she rarely called me anymore ... I knew something was wrong with Liam. [caption id="attachment_628" align="alignright" width="251" caption="Mom & Dad with Liam after his 1st surgery"][/caption] And as I picked up the phone, right away I could here her sobbing. And as she talked, I found myself walking away from my desk at work and into a private place where we could talk. Phrases like "worsening pulmonary edema" and "lungs too premature" was all I really heard amidst her sobs. That, and the one phrase we all didn't expect to hear. That the doctors didn't know how much longer Liam might hang on. So I quickly shut down my computer, gathered my belongings and ran out the door after telling my boss what was going on. I headed to the local hospital and up to the NICU area where I saw my SIL in the waiting area. She was talking with one of the chaplains who was trying to console her. "I couldn't be in there while they were rounding," my SIL told me, referring to the attending doctor and residents. I understood what she meant; she didn't want to be in the room when these professionals would discuss Liam's case. [caption id="attachment_626" align="alignleft" width="185" caption="The first time SIL got to hold Liam"][/caption] We eventually made it back to his room, where I was so surprised to see how ashen Liam looked. The weekend before, he was bright-eyed and playful. And he was taking a bottle ... one of the first time he was doing so. Now, because he must have aspirated, they had him being fed by a tube. And while the everyone thought he might pull through this bout of pneumonia, his poor premature lungs weren't able to do so this time around. Most of the day was spent in a blur. My SIL's husband was finally able to make it down to the hospital around lunch time. My in-laws came in and brought Tyler with them to visit. Tyler, I can remember was pretty upset ... not knowing how to react as an 11-year old wouldn't know. My husband, who worked an hour and a half away, left work in the early afternoon, but because of traffic made it in just around dinner time. And then about an hour later, Liam was gone. There's nothing more gut-wrenching than watching my BIL hold Liam as he took his last breath. To hear the aching bellow as he cried out Liam's name, while holding him close. Nothing more heartbreaking than watching my SIL's eyes overflow with crocodile-sized tears. And there's nothing ... nothing at that moment, that we could do at that moment to console them. Because simply, we couldn't bring back Liam. [caption id="attachment_624" align="aligncenter" width="274" caption="Strength in Liam's Hands"][/caption] It's now been a year since that day. A year of missing Liam. A year of praying that he's safe and happy up in the heavens. I pray every day that Liam looks over his parents and brother ... and now for his newborn baby sister. And every single day, I pray that he gives me the strength ... that same strength he had for the four months he was with us ... to put one foot in front of the other and move forward.

Placing Stock in Bonds

Emily — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 23:30:34 +0000

Today is my day off this week. I planned on working on special project for most of the day (details still forthcoming in a future post), but first I had to head over to my parents' house to pick up more stuff for said project. I forget what it's like to be out driving around 10:30-ish on a week day. Mostly because 10-hour work days are spent indoors working furiously at my desk. So yes, I forget about the old folk out driving about 20-zillion miles below the speed limit. Or the multitude of service cars and trucks that zoom around you as if there was no one else on the road. Or in my case today, watching at least three different groups of women walking around pushing baby strollers. Okay, so not all of them were pushing strollers. Some of them were holding their pre-preschool kids' hands as they walked. And others, well ... they were pregnant. It was that image of pushing the baby stroller and/or being pregnant that reminded me of what I don't have. Or rather ... not necessarily what I don't have, more than what I haven't been able to experience. In this case, it's not about being pregnant or having a child. It's more about the ability to form friendships with other women who are at the same stage of life that you are. A tribe of women, as a good friend once mentioned in her blog, that I can bond with and share. I've always said that not having a sister to grow up with has limited me in my ability to form female bonds. There's something to be said about having another female (about the same age) around to learn how to act and react to different social situations. Whether a woman is close to her sister or not, this relationship still teaches that woman about the female mind in ways that another "sister-less" woman cannot experience or understand. I tend to think that this is one of my biggest flaws within my personality. This social ineptness, when it comes to forming relationships with other women. Up until Hubby & I started trying to start our family (and failing miserably), I would say that I had a fair amount of female friends. Ones that I would call up and make plans to go shopping or out to eat just so we can hang. Being in a profession dominated by women also helped form these friendships. But the longer Hubby & I went without having children, the more isolated we became. And that's because these female friends went on to start their families and began to relate more with other women and couples that also had children. More and more, I began to have less in common with these friends. Oh, I know not to place all the blame (if any blame at all) on these friends, who are now more like acquaintances. I know that friendship goes both ways. And I know that there are the times that I just didn't make the effort to continue the friendship. But I also know that there are the times that I just couldn't be the friend that they needed ... my own pain, in my opinion, would have caused more of a rift in that friendship. There's another part of me that I believe has limited my ability to form long and lasting female friendships. And that is being a first-generation Asian/Filipino-American. (And for clarity's sake, this means that my brother and I were born here in the US, while my parents were both born in the Philippines.) Growing up in my household always meant you had one foot in the traditional Asian mindset, while your other foot was learning to survive in the American culture and way of life. The traditional Filipino way meant that family and God (followed closely by education) always came first and anything else, such as friendships and after-school activities came in a distant last. And although the "American" part of me always wanted to make tons of friends and be involved in lots of activities, the "Asian" part of me held back considerably. Mainly because when I looked outward at myself and my family ... I always knew that I was "different." So how about forming friendships with other first generation Asian- or Filipino-American women? Believe me, I do have those few friendships. And quite honestly, they're probably the ones that have lasted the longest. I strongly believe that this is the case, mainly because we've stepped outside of our "Filipino-American" selves and truly know one another, outside of our personal issues (read: Emily's infertility). That is simply because we've known each other for years. And we've bonded. And if they're not family, then they are certainly the closest thing I have to family (without, of course, all the dysfunction). The rest of the Asian/Filipino-Americans ... definitely different story. Especially as it relates to infertility. Loribeth recently shared an article from Newsweek on her blog. While this article's primary subject is about infertility and the lack of treatment in developing countries , there is a small focus about the ostracism of infertile women in these countries. Here's a little taste of it:

The stigma that infertile women face can infiltrate every aspect of life. They may not even be invited to weddings or other important gatherings. "People see them as having a 'bad eye' that could make you infertile, too," says Inhorn. "Infertile women are considered inauspicious." Other people simply "don't want to have them around at joyous occasions," says Frank van Balen, coauthor (with Inhorn) of "Infertility Around the Globe" and a professor in the department of social and behavioral sciences at the University of Amsterdam. Their reasoning: "they could spoil it," he says.

The thing is ... this article doesn't just pertain to these women living in that particular country. This article reflects just about everything that I've, as an infertile, encountered here. In the US. Amongst family and friends. Within my culture.

That article basically summed up the reason why I started this blog in the first place. Because what I write here is everything I feel about myself and everything I could never say out loud. This blog was meant to help me work my way through my infertility issues. It was a way for those family members and friends who would always ask us why we still didn't have children know why without me or Hubby having to spill all the details out loud in which I would inevitably cry. It was a way for me to feel comfortable telling my story, without having the other person feel uncomfortable. But apparently even by just writing these things, I still make certain people very uncomfortable and therefore ostracizing myself even moreso amongst my family and Filipino/Asian friends. Certain actions have made it quite evident over these past few weeks. Certain things have forced me to evaluate exactly whom I want to be closest to me at my most difficult times. It's because of those actions, I have debated about taking down this blog. Or making it strictly password-protected for those who would be genuinely interested in following my rants. But then I thought ... how many other Asian-American / Filipino-American women or couples are out there that are going through similar things that I've experienced? How many are out there longing for some sort of bond with others going through something just as painful? How many more of us are out there that feel ostracized and alone? I know what it was like to meet all of my infertility friends through blogging. And even though we might not share the same cultural considerations ... I do know that they are going through the same (or similar) hurt and anger and pain that I've gone through while traveling on my IF journey. And it's because of you girls I've felt less lonely ... less ostracized. I've felt as if I could go out to meet you for a "virtual walk" at around, oh ... let's say 9 pm ... (when most of us are known to read/blog the most) and bond. So I decided to keep my blog "password-free" (except maybe for the occasional post). My hope is that this blog is still a way to communicate with those people who want to continue with me along my IF journey. But it is also my hope that it be available for those Asian- and Filipino-Americans (as well as those that are not ... Asian, that is) traveling down the infertility road alone and looking for some company.

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Emily — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 16:35:37 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 19:19:18 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 19:24:28 +0000

Weight Weight ... Don't Tell Me, Pt 1

Emily — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 19:32:15 +0000

(Update 11.17.2008: I've decided to split up this post into two parts in order to allow for parts of this previously PWP post to be finally visible.)

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There are a few things that have been weighing on my mind lately. Things that I would rather not share with the rest of my non-bloggy friends at this time. Things that I hope those bloggy friends that I know IRL will not share with those people that we both have in common. Believe me, the following things will be coming out in all due time, but right now ... I'm not ready to share it with the rest of the world. So what's been going on? Well for starters, yesterday Hubby & I got an envelope in the mail the other day. Addressed to the "ApronStrings" family. From my SIL. And inside the envelope was an invitation to Kairi's baptism. Which, I must add, we were aware about ... but didn't think we'd need an invitation mailed to our "family" to remind us about it. Okay, really ... what "family" is she talking about? Could it mean that this invitation means that I'm *gasp* invited to this event as well? And does this mean the the rest of our "family" is invited as well?! Oh wait ... there are no other members in our "family" except for the two of us. Unless she means that we can bring along our "furbabies." (Hmm ... that ain't such a bad idea!) Of course, our youngest "furbaby" is our black cat, Yami, who we coincidentally took in from the very same SIL, who gave her up when she moved into a new apartment. And then within the same year, adopted another cat ... that she subsequently gave up after Liam was born. (The girl goes through pets like tissue paper ... Grr!) Honestly, I was relatively okay about that aspect of this piece of mail. I mean, if she mailed a birth announcement and addressed it only to my husband / her brother ... what more is she capable of? Right?! Well, the school picture of our 12-year old nephew, Tyler, that was included in this invitation reminded me that there was yet one more thing that SIL can take away from us. And that's the relationship that we've formed with our nephew. [caption id="attachment_670" align="alignright" width="195" caption="Tyler at around 8 months old"][/caption] I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned it here on this blog ... (most likely not, as I knew SIL reads it), but Hubby & I have always had a special relationship with Tyler. He was born just 5 months before we got married and to me, he became a symbol of one of those moments in life that I was so looking forward to once Hubby & I got married. When SIL and Tyler's dad separated, the two of them came to live with me & Hubby for almost a year until SIL could get back on her feet. Tyler was about 18 months old when they first moved in. And because he spent the majority of time with us, he became very close to me ... and especially Hubby, who became somewhat of a "father-figure" to him. Hubby was the only other male in the house, so Tyler just naturally gravitated to him. In fact, there were times when he had actually called him, "Daddy." (Oh, how that breaks my heart even now ... after all these years.) And yes, we did correct him. Every time. And when Tyler went to live with his dad for a spell (when SIL moved to NYC for about 10 months), we made the effort in having him spend every other weekend with either my in-laws or with us. We just wanted to make sure that he knew he was loved by us. To this day, Tyler is always happy to see us. And I think sometimes it's to the dismay of his mom. Because quite honestly, he is genuinely excited to be with us. I believe it's because he knows that we take the time to listen to him and to play with him. And he knows that he's safe with us and completely loved by us. Unconditionally. I would hate to think that my SIL would do such a thing; limiting our contact with her son, our nephew. I would think that she might realize that by removing us from his life, she would be hurting to Tyler as well. But somehow, I just don't think she will. I mean really ... if she's already making passive-aggressive moves in regards to her newborn daughter, it's only a matter of time that she'll be doing the same thing in regards to Tyler. But I can't ... nor will I ever be able to ... get her to see how self-centered and egotistical she's being about our current situation. The more I think back over this past decade of our "friendship," the more I realize how much she's an "It's all about me"-type of person. And I truly just need to accept that this is who she is ... nothing I can say or do will change her. And whatever hurtful actions she may consciously (or unconsciously) perform, I should expect that pain and anger will be my typical first reaction. I just now need to find a way to redirect those emotions into something more healthy and productive. (See Part 2 for continuation of this post )

All Things Considered

Emily — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 19:33:02 +0000

I love NPR. I'm not sure when I started really listening to it, but I do know that I've lately found myself switching the radio station in my car to our local NPR station more often. But I digress ... Special project has been kicking my a$$ these past few weeks. So much that I've been such a bad bloggy friend and a bad blogger lately. I should hopefully be done with special project in the next week or two, so hopefully things can go back to somewhat normal. I decided to password-protect (PWP) the previous post for a reason. There are a few things that have been weighing heavily on my mind lately. Things that I would rather not share with the rest of my non-bloggy friends at this time. Believe me, the following things will be coming out in all due time, but right now ... I'm not ready to share it with the rest of the world. And quite honestly, having PWP'd the other post, I've found much comfort from those that have commented on it. They were very honest comments, and ones that I truly appreciated. So ... if you're interested in reading this post, you can comment on this post for the password. For those that have the password for the previous PWP post, it's the same password ... however (since I now know it's a case-sensitive password) you might want to capitalize the first letter.*

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(* Update 11.17.2008: The password for this post has officially been changed to reflect the same password for all PWP-ed posts)

Weight Weight ... Don't Tell Me, Pt 2

Emily — Sat, 04 Oct 2008 22:24:42 +0000

(Update 11.17.2008: I've decided to split up this post into two parts in order to allow for parts of this previously PWP post to be finally visible. To view the first part of this long post, click here.)

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Which brings me to the next item of things I'm keeping under wraps for now. This one concerns my career; which has been absolutely blooming as of late. An interesting turn of events, given what happened in my last work-related post. For starters, the Continuous Improvement Workgroup (CIW) has officially closed out its first phase. With the exception of having to participate in a couple of presentations (one of which is to the major Senior Executives and Board members ... yikes!), I am all but done with my commitment to this group. Except ... well, of course there's always the next phase. Otherwise it wouldn't be a "Continuous" process. [caption id="attachment_671" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="One of the "gifts" we got after completing the first phase of the CIW ... Oh, the irony! (click to enlarge)"][/caption] Those of us that participated this time around were invited back to continue the work that we had started. After all the h*ll I went through these past 10 months, I took a couple weeks to decide if I wanted to throw myself into the fire again. And I did decide not to participate this time around. The reason I gave in my email to the CIW project manager and our Vice President for our department was that participating in this group had consumed much much much more time than any of us expected. And this was blindingly obvious by the decrease in our "numbers" in comparison to the other staff. But then I get the email from my VP specifically asking me to reconsider, as I apparently brought a lot of insight and ideas to the CIW. And if that wasn't a request for me to participate, then the fact that our VP specifically sought me out in a department meeting to ask me again in person ... well, that certainly did. So really ... how can one say no to something like that when your big big boss singles you out? Uh-huh ... So yay! Big pat on the back for a job well done. And ugh! How much more "good work" can I take on? But that's not what I've been all hush-hush about. Shortly after finishing up on the first phase of the CIW project, our whole department found out that our Director (who reports directly to the VP I mentioned above) accepted a VP position for one of our sister companies in another state. One particular state that Hubby & I had seriously considered moving to at one point in our lives. And because my Director and I had talked casually about this particular city in the past, I jokingly said to him that if a position should ever come available, he should think of me. His response? "Well if you find yourself moving into the area, you should definitely contact me. I know we have positions and if not, I'll find something for you." Wow. That was all I needed to hear. And after Hubby & I discussed it at length, we decided that now would be the perfect time to take advantage of this type of opportunity. So as I type, hopefully the email I sent with my resume attached finds its way to his desk. At work. As the new VP for our sister company. And hopefully I'll hear some good news soon. The reason I haven't said anything to other friends and families is because it's too early in the game to spill the beans. Plus I'd hate to get my hopes up in the event that it all falls through. And if anyone else IRL (and in close proximity of me) knew that this is what we're planning on as our "next big step," I guess I'd feel as if I was jinxing myself. Make any sense? So just keep Hubby & I in your thoughts and prayers so that I might get this opportunity, because I find myself really really wanting to make this change. Part of the desire, of course, is to put all the hurt and pain of infertility behind me. Don't get me wrong. I love my city. I have great pride in saying that I'm from Detroit. It's just that the longer I'm here, the more the sad moments start to overshadow the happier moments. The more I feel left behind while others keep moving forward. The more I feel stuck, tied down ... weighed down. And the longer I stay here, the harder it gets for me to try to change the course of my life. Because I do want to move forward past my infertility. I do want infertility to stop being who I am. I want to take that step away from "Emily the Infertile" and become just "Emily." Smart & witty Emily. Silly & fun Emily. Happy Emily. So do I think moving away will solve my problems? No. I'm not as naive to think that running away will make things better. I know it will take a large part of strength to start a life in another city. I know I'll have to work hard at making new friends (or perhaps reconnecting with old ones). I know that I won't have the security of having family close by. I know that it will be just Hubby & me. But I'm okay with that. And I'm pretty sure Hubby is okay with that as well. Because quite frankly, this "trying to start a family" thingy has taken a toll on the two of us. (Oh, who am I kidding? I'm sure I'm the one that stressed over the whole IF thing and therefore stressed Hubby out because I was majorly freaking out.) And perhaps rather than focusing on what's happening with every one else around us and what's not happening with us ... we can start focusing on just us again. Because even though it's just been "Us" for the past 12 years (read: no kids), infertility has definitely changed the two of us as a married couple. We're no longer that young, fresh-faced optimistic married couple that feels impenetrable. We're no longer that couple that thinks that the harder you work towards something, the more we're ensured to get what we want. We're ... or rather I'm ... more jaded and disappointed; hesitant to trust that everything will work out in the end. That what goes around might take a little longer to come back around. Yet despite those challenges we've faced, there's not a day that goes by that I don't I thank God that we are still madly in love with each other. So if this opportunity to move out of state happens, I will definitely be comfortable with life just revolving around the two of us. And I think that placing some distance between those things (and people) that remind us on a daily basis of our hurt and disappointment will be a good thing. Which brings me to the final reason I've kept this post PWP for now. And trust me ... this is definitely the one thing I want to keep under wraps for now. So again ... if I know you IRL and you run into people whom we both know, please please please do not spill the beans. So here goes ... Hubby & I both realize that with everything that has happened over the past year (both good and bad), we have reached a crossroad in our lives. We've come to the point where we need to know what to do next. And so ... with the possibility of moving out of state and with the most recent emotional pain I've been through ... Hubby & I have made the decision to take a stab at living child-free. Yep. You read that right. Child-free. And believe me, once I said it out loud (during a major cry session with Hubby, btw) it was as if a HUGE weight was lifted off my shoulders. And suddenly I felt like I could breathe again. And I finally felt as if I could confidently take a step away from "Emily the Infertile" and a step towards the other Emily, as in "Hubby & Emily" and their "infinite playlist." (Lame reference to "Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist." Which, if you're a fan of making great mixed tapes or ... ahem, I'm dating myself ... mixed CD's, you must see this movie!) And another step towards the "other" Emily; the smart and sassy one who does the best that she can possibly do to be successful in her career (whatever that may be). This, of course, is not to say that we've closed off any notion towards starting our family at a later date. I mean, who knows? Maybe having the opportunity to choose to live child-free will give us the ability to not always think about the whole "we have no kids" issue, which could (hypothetically) lead to the whole "It finally happened when I *cringe* 'just relaxed'!" Or it could afford us the strength and the finances we'd need to go through the adoption process. Either way, this removes the focus of our relationship from "must have kids to care for" to "must care for ourselves and each other." And hey ... since we've really enjoyed traveling this year, perhaps this choice to live child-free will allow us to continue to travel with each other and explore different countries and "re-explore" ourselves together. So those are the big things that have been weighing on my mind and in my heart lately. I know, I know ... monstrously BIG decisions. But I hope that they're ones that will eventually lead my down the road to being happy and content with who I am as a person and who Hubby & I are together as a happily married couple. And where do I go now with this blog? Yes, I'll still be keeping it. And yes, it will most likely still be about longing for something. But perhaps maybe these "Apron Strings" are no longer symbolic for just the longing to have kids ... it'll be symbolic to the want ... need ... desire to find happiness and balance in both my personal and professional life. Both of which I'm sorely lacking any sense of of balance lately ... Wish Hubby & I luck and please send any prayers up to the "Big Guy" up there to help guide us in the right direction. And as always ... thanks for being the best listeners / readers in the whole wide world.

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Emily — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 04:23:51 +0000

Have a ... Wha?!

Emily — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 04:26:18 +0000

[caption id="attachment_692" align="alignright" width="173" caption="As if I wanna see THIS during my "favorite" time of the month ..."][/caption] 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:

Never had seriously heavy crampy "can't take a sh*t" periods (yes, waaay too much TMI), and
Never had difficulty procreating.

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

Voiceless Monday

Emily — Mon, 13 Oct 2008 17:16:28 +0000

I've officially lost it ... my voice, that is. There's this bug that's been going around work lately and I've finally succumbed to it. Definitely a pain in the butt, especially since my job requires interaction with both patients and providers (hospitals, home care agencies, etc). And that's why I'm home sick today instead. On the upside, I did get to see Kairi for a spell this past weekend. Unfortunately, I didn't get to hold her for fear that I'd get her sick. That, and well ... it's not like her mom and I are on speaking terms at this moment. I have to admit it, I felt really crappy afterwards ... not having even acknowledged my SIL. And I'm sure it's because I'm the type of person who totally hates confrontation and would rather sacrifice my own happiness in order to make things more comfortable for others. So yeah, part of me felt as if I should have been the bigger person and be the first one to make a move. But then I remembered that I wasn't the one that struck first. After all, what I've said in this blog has always been open for everyone to read. It's been my way of letting off all those emotions I could never show or express in real life. It's been my one way of letting people "in" to my life and inviting others to participate in my journey where, in real life, they might not be as comfortable in walking by my side. And then I also remembered that since my one "strike back," I've been hit ... not once, but twice. However, rather than retaliate, I will simply continue to keep my distance. Because to me, not responding to those passive-aggressive behaviors * seems to be a much better move. The way I look at it, my SIL can continue to deliver all the "blows" she wants but I'm still not going to give her the satisfaction of a response. Perhaps then she'll realize that this "argument" (or whatever you want to call it) is not all about her. That her actions directly reflect who she is as a woman and as a friend. And that her behavior now will affect not only her relationship with me, but any of her other female relationships ... especially the one with her daughter. Quite frankly, I'm tired of always being the one to make the first move. I'm tired of the one having to be the one to help smooth things over for the sake of peace. To make things more comfortable for others. And all at the expense of my own health and happiness. So whenever she's ready ... she can make the first move. The ball has ceremoniously been left in her court to do as she pleases with it. I don't know ... what do you guys think? Do you think I'm being way too harsh?

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* NO ... I don't think I'm being passive-aggressive by posting this on my blog. After all, these are my feelings on my blog. At least I'm being direct about it.

Oh, the Irony ...

Emily — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 21:58:23 +0000

Day 3 of "Voiceless Emily." I made the attempt to go to work today and promptly fell back into bed after taking a shower wiped me out. So today, I make the trip to my doctor's office to hopefully get some "magic pills" to make me feel better. Oh, don't get me wrong. I hate having to get antibiotics to get rid of a bug. I'd rather do it the old-fashioned way with lots of fluid and lots of rest. But this one ... I don't know, I just haven't been able to "break" it just yet. And I've gotta be better by this weekend, as it's my cousin's wedding! Thank you for those that responded yesterday to my post. Part of me knows that I'm just being stubborn and spiteful. And the other part of me knows that I'm doing this for self-preservation as well. Because if I continue to subject myself to "saving face" just to "keep the peace", then I'd be back-pedaling in my progress towards happiness. It's just rather strange for me to be listening to that "other part of me," because I feel as if that's the selfish part of me. The one who only thinks about herself. The one who was told time and time again in her youth that it was bad to be thinking about my wants and my needs. My job ... my duty, was always to think and care for others. (No wonder I became a nurse!) And I'm sure that lesson was reinforced over and over again by both the Filipino culture I was brought up in, as well as the twelve years of Catholic school. And not that I mean to emphasize the point over and over again ... but this is probably the biggest reason why it's been so difficult for me to deal with my infertility. First ... let's not talk about my issues so as not to make you feel uncomfortable. Next, let's take care of everyone else's needs rather than take care of my own health. And finally, let's just stifle all that unhappiness away and pretend that it doesn't exist. In any case, it took a long time for me to realize that I couldn't continue to live this way. That my own body was telling me that I could no longer hold things in. Seriously, when your blood pressure continues to sky-rocket despite taking medications and you find yourself having a tremendously difficult time performing such simple tasks like taking a shower ... and your mind is so muddled because you can't even begin to determine what to "fix" first ... well, then it's time to seek some professional help. So yes. I admit it (as it's hard to do for most Asian-American's), I broke down and called my former RE's office and asked for a good therapist; one that had experience in dealing with infertility issues. And from that first meeting with her, I felt as if I struck gold. She has been that wonderful. From our sessions, I've learned that one of the biggest things I needed to do was listen to my body. Which, of course, was hard for me to do ... as throughout my IF journey, I've felt I've been betrayed by it month after month. But it's those headaches that I frequently got that told me that my blood pressure was bordering at extreme highs. And it's those days where my body refused to get out of bed that told me that I had stuffed waaay too many emotions inside that my body simply refused budge until I felt or expressed something. And that's why I began to blog. My outlet. My way to talk about the complex things and complex relationships I have going on in my life. Duh, I can hear y'all saying ... it's not like I haven't said this twenty zillion times before in previous posts. But then part of me begins to wonder. Am I revealing too much? Am I expressing those feelings too intensely? Am I hurting others by writing exactly how I feel about the situations I've been in? Is the proverbial pen mightier than the sword? The reason I pose these questions is because I've been "asked" to refrain from blogging about certain people and certain situations I'm placed in, Which my gut instinct is to say, "F*ck you. This is MY blog. And you don't have to read it, if you don't like what I have to say." But then I began to think that maybe what I say in this blog may push things to the limits. That instead of making it easier for others to understand what I'm going through, I'm making them more uncomfortable. And hence making it more awkward for them to talk to me in real life (IRL). That I'm further isolating myself by "talking" about these things. (Of course, this pertains to IRL people and not you, my dear bloggy friends.) Then there's the Filipino-Catholic in me. The person who feels like she's being self-centered and only thinking about herself in these situations ... and not about how others might react to what I've said. That I'm hurting others by the words I write. And that I'm now sufficiently doomed to H*ll. I have, in the past, PWP'd (password protected) a few blog entries, but have hated to do so, for reasons I've mentioned before in this post. I think it protects certain incidents and people involved in them; which could be good. And yet it also isolates a potential reader .... someone, who like me is looking for someone to relate to ... from not feeling comfortable in asking me for a password. And while I might continue to do so in some instances, I don't like it. It makes me feel, for lack of better words (ha!), "voiceless." And the irony of it all? I can't even speak a word above a whisper right now. What do you suppose my sick body is telling me? Is it just telling me to shut up and not "say" or blog about the emotions attached to those complex relationships and situations? Or is it telling me to ease up on myself; that I'm once again being too harsh on myself that my body, or rather my voice needs a rest? All I know now, is that I'm seriously doubting myself ... if what I do and say on my blog is helping me IRL or hurting me even more. And if I should permanently remain "voiceless." Help me, oh bloggy friends. What should I do?

October

Emily — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 15:29:59 +0000

October And the trees are stripped bare Of all they wear What do I care? October And kingdoms rise And kingdoms fall But you go on -- U2

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Emily — Wed, 15 Oct 2008 15:35:34 +0000

... In My Court

Emily — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 06:36:02 +0000

The following is an email that I received from my SIL in response to this blog post from three days ago.

I just wanted to say that I apologize if what I wrote in my photo journal offended you in any way. It wasn’t meant to be taken that way... It was a way for me, just like you, to get things off of my chest. I was hurting at that time because of the animosity that I felt (and still feel) written in your blog about me, Liam & my family. But I truly am sorry if you took offense that... I know things between us have been strained ever since my pregnancy with Liam and I don’t think things between us will ever be the same. So please know that I don’t harbor any really bad feelings towards you as you think I do. I just feel that I don’t and can’t offer you what you need as a friend because I have tried before and it has not worked. I will never know what it’s like to be in your shoes, nor you in mine...so it’s best that you don’t include me or my family in your blog because words do hurt. (consciously or unconsciously) And it really comes down to what you said that distance is perhaps better between us.

I'm not sure how to respond to this. I know that this is her way of ceremoniously tossing the ball back into my court. Part of me wants to reply to this, but yet ... the other part of me wants to stubbornly ignore her once again. What has particularly gotten me riled up lately is that she has assumed that I'm trying to bring her "down" with my blog. That I'm purposely sabotaging her happiness by posting the emotions that I'm feeling. That I shouldn't post hurtful things about her and her family. Newsflash ... this blog is not about her. It's about me. And my true emotions. And until her recent actions ... I thought that this blog was letting her know how my emotions were from day to day. Because, quite frankly ... she (along with quite a few other people) stopped asking how I was doing for the sheer awkwardness of how I'd respond. This blog has always been two-fold. One was to find an outlet for all the emotions that come with infertility. And the other was to let people in my world, so they could have somewhat of an idea of what goes through my mind (as it relates to infertility) on a daily basis. But apparently, it is seen by my SIL as a way for me to purposefully hurt her. The thing is ... I don't hate her. Quite frankly until the birth announcement addressed only to her brother (my husband), I didn't harbor any animosity towards her. And when she did it a second time by addressing the baptism invitation to our "family" (which of course, is just her brother and I ... so I'm *guessing* that it includes me ... unless you count the furbabies as well), well yes, that animosity grew. But if you look back at my previous posts (before this post), you might notice that I have never posted anything that outrightly showed direct anger towards her or her family. These are my words ... the way that I've thoughtfully chosen to express how I feel. I have always been conscious about how my words may affect others. But apparently, no matter how hard I consciously try ... certain people will only read into things what they want to read. And certain things will apparently always get lost in translation. While some of this may be a repeat from previous posts ... I think it's best to go into a little more detail about how my relationship with SIL has culminated to this point. When SIL told us about her pregnancy with Liam, it literally knocked the wind out of me. Here, I had been struggling with IF for close to ten years by then. And within months of her 2nd wedding, she is able to get pregnant. Not that I'm angry at her for being able to get pregnant ... but at this point in time, I'm thinking that it's Just. Not. Fair. After 3 months of trying to deal with that news (which included starting therapy), I finally got the courage to tell her in person how hard her pregnancy was for me. That I was happy for her, but it was going to be incredibly difficult for me to watch her go through this pregnancy. Because it was everything I hoped and prayed would happen to me. So I asked her that day to respect my need for limited pregnancy talk around me; specifically not to talk about her pregnancy unless I brought up the subject. I explained to her that it was because the subject was too close to my heart and that it hurt me too much. And after much crying (on my part), I believed that she understood what I was asking of her. And yes, things felt much better after that talk. But then ... less than a week later, I got a call from her. About how her ultrasound showed some anomalies. And how some of her preliminary labs were showing signs of genetic issues that might result in fetal death. So yes, it was a very scary time for her. And yes ... I was just as scared and worried for her and her baby, too. I was there for her to call about a medical question she might have or simply if a downright scary thought would cross her mind. I was there for her to talk through her decisions if further testing revealed that her baby might survive the pregnancy but not be able to sustain life outside her womb. I would ask her if she needed someone to be there with her for moral support during the amnio or the genetics counseling. And I would make the effort to call and follow-up with her to see what the results were. And after Liam was born ... okay, yes it was hard. For all of us. Yes, I can empathize on how difficult it is to worry 24/7 about a son who wasn't born in the best of health. And yes, I can understand how difficult it must be to make it a routine to go to the hospital's NICU every day just to spend time with your son. And not to be able to hold him for the first time until he was a month old? G*d, that would absolutely kill me. And yes, I do know that I wasn't there for my SIL and her Hubby as much as I could have been. Truth be told, I was scared. And I was sad ... not just because of the situation that my SIL & her Hubby were in. But because again, here was a child ... however sick he was ... that wasn't mine. That I couldn't take care of. Or make decisions for. Or claim as my child. As a baby that belonged to me. Call it selfish, but as someone that has been longing for any experience to have a biological child of my own ... it f*cking hurt. But I made the effort. Hubby & I would visit at least every two weeks or so just to see how Liam was doing. To lend whatever we could so that my SIL & her Hubby knew that we loved Liam. And when things took a sudden turn for the worse ... Bobby & I were the first ones to lend our support. To do whatever we could to make sure that we were there for the two of them. And as hard as it was for us ... or rather me ... to be there, I was there. In short, during my SIL's pregnancy with Liam and his short life, I put aside my uneasiness and heartache to open my arms for a friend who needed the love and support more than I did. Something I would have hoped that a friend would do for me when I needed it. So when my SIL announced less than four months after Liam passed that she was once again pregnant ... well, part of me wasn't surprised. I knew that she and her Hubby would want to have another child as soon as possible. And I was happy for them that they were being given that "second chance." The other part of me was back at that point when she announced her pregnancy with Liam. That it just wasn't fair. That my SIL & her Hubby were able to catch a break ... but here, I couldn't even get a stick thrown my way. Was it jealousy? I hesitate to say that it was, but I'm sure that there was an element of envy. Did I hold it against my SIL and her Hubby? Well, if it felt that way ... I certainly didn't mean to. Again ... I was back at the stage where seeing and hearing about her pregnancy was difficult for me. And while I should have reiterated that I didn't want to talk about her pregnancy unless I brought it up ... I didn't. So when others would bring up her pregnancy and be all excited for her because her last pregnancy was difficult ... well, yeah. Who wouldn't go on and on about how things are much better this time around? It would be at those times that I'd slowly (and hopefully invisibly) back out of the room, so as not to hurt myself. (And note that I said "myself" ... meaning I wasn't doing this to purposely hurt the other person ... rather I was protecting my own sanity.) So flash forward to the end of August of this year, my SIL is set to deliver by c-section on the 29th. The closer the date gets, the more anxious I become. And it's because I'm once again grieving another loss for me. Another moment that I'm never going to be able to experience. And okay ... so my choice of words on this post (however indirect they were) about how I would give anything, even if it was a small 4 month window, to experience having a biological child of my own ... maybe those weren't the best of words. But that was how I was feeling at that moment. It was my way of working through my grief at that time. It was never meant to hurt anyone ... it was my way of expressing how much sadness I felt for the loss I was experiencing. In no way was it meant to express any type of hatred or jealousy for my SIL or her Hubby. But apparently that's how it was taken. And suddenly I'm pointed at as the bad person for expressing how I feel. And I'm now not supposed to "talk" about them in my blog. The only outlet I've ever had to talk about these emotions. The one way for me to muddle through these horrible emotions that I'm going through. It only took a few seconds after reading my SIL's email for me to feel like I was indeed a horrible person ... that I shouldn't be feeling these things. That I'm abnormal for expressing sadness abnormal for someone else's happiness. That I'm being selfish for feeling this way. That, frankly, I'm once again alone in my IF journey. Dr. SIL (Dr. Brother's wife) said it perfectly ... it just sucks that my biggest grief coincides with her biggest joy. And it seems that no matter what I do, I can't to do anything "right" about it.

The Ball is Ceremoniously ...

Emily — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 06:37:20 +0000

I am warning you now ... If you haven't gotten the gist from the title of this post, this is a lengthy one about the current "issues" I've been dealing with. If you haven't enjoyed my apparent "angry tirades" that I've been posting for the past month ... then it's best you skip this one. I'd PWP this post ... but F*CK IT. * * * * * * * Just kidding. If you want to read my latest post ... the password remains the same (lowercase letter, by the way). If you're interested in reading it and don't have the password (or if you don't remember it), feel free to comment below.

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Emily — Tue, 21 Oct 2008 19:00:17 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 21 Oct 2008 19:01:28 +0000

Crouching Dragon Lady

Emily — Tue, 21 Oct 2008 19:09:36 +0000

Well ... For those of you that have read my last PWP post and commented or emailed me personally, I very much appreciate all that you've said. There were definitely points that were brought forward that I haven't thought about in my angry haze, and for that I am grateful. All of your words definitely made me stop long enough to breathe in some fresh air rather than breathe out flames of anger. I'm still trying to decide what I want to do with this blog. Don't know if I want to continue to post on this blog, or if I want to move elsewhere. I've already got another blog site all set if I decide to move, but for now I think I will continue to just PWP those posts that I assume would "hurt" other people. Which (okay ... one last b*tchy statement and I swear I'm done for now ... ) just still gets my goat (goad?) Because seriously, while I understand sometimes words do hurt ... by having to "censor" myself ... well, it just makes me feel like I shouldn't be "allowed" to express how I truly feel. Like I have to "butter up" my words (or rather kiss a$$) just to avoid hurting someone else's feelings. But G*d forbid that I'm not allowed to have my own feelings hurt! Woops. I believe I just got side-tracked from what I was originally going to blog about. Now what was I saying?! (Ugh. Mind is in a haze ...) Oh yeah. In one of the comments I received, there was a statement that I feel I need to clarify. Actually, there were two: There was a comment indicating that I've made this particular relationship into a competition. That I "think" that my loss is "bigger" than this other person's loss. Or that this person's life is much "better" than my life. I'm "saying" this loud and clear ... it has NOT BEEN ME that has focused on this part of our relationship. To me, I have never thought that one person has it worse or better than the other. To me A LOSS IS A LOSS ... it doesn't matter how small or large the loss is, it still hurts like h*ll. As I've (obviously not-so clearly) mentioned in this post, I never wanted this relationship to be a competition. All I wanted was the support. Which leads me to the second point of clarification ... I want to clear up the statement I made about not considering Hubby & myself a "family unit." It wasn't that I didn't think Hubby & I were a family. No, I was more irritated at the way the envelope addressed. Because that action was just a very passive-aggressive way to include me ... and yet to not mention me by name. It was a subtle dig (whether consciously or unconsciously) to let me know that I was still on a certain person's sh*tlist. Yes, I know Hubby & I are a family ... we're a family of two; which is how it has always been. Especially as we have been going through this infertility journey alone. And that's in sharp contrast to what our Filipino culture is supposed to be. As a "family" (which ultimately includes all immediate family members, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc), we're supposed to be supporting each other, fighting for each other, holding each other up when another person in the family needs it most. And while I feel as if I've done my fair share (and sometimes above and beyond) of support, I just don't think it's ever been reciprocated, leastwise from this particular person. At least in the way that I wish it would. The way that I've done for others. Truth be told, I want someone to speak up for me when I'm tired of giving explanations. I want someone to fight for me when someone says something inappropriate. Or at least diffuse a potentially uncomfortable situation. And I want someone to hold me up when I'm weak from having to do all those things mentioned above. Tell me the truth people ... if YOU held someone up at one (actually two) of their most difficult times in their lives; if YOU fought battles for people when you felt they couldn't fight any more; if YOU put aside your own uncomfortable feelings in order to support someone that you knew needed it ... wouldn't you hope that when YOU needed the support, these same actions would be returned? I suppose I'll get the responses like ... "Well, you can only expect to get what a person is willing to give." Or "some people aren't built like that." And I can honestly say that it's taken me over twenty years ... but I've finally accepted those answers. I might not like it and may still b*tch about it from time to time (in a PWP post, of course) ... but I accept that I shouldn't expect anything more from this particular relationship. With that said ... I want to share an article with you that a co-worker thought I could learn from. I enjoyed reading it and ... who knows? Maybe it's lessons will come in handy in the (very near) future!

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Emily — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 02:49:08 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 03:09:12 +0000

And Finally ...

Emily — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 03:30:17 +0000

Special project can, once and for all, be revealed. (Woo-hoo! I can hear y'all *excitedly* cheering ... NOT!)

Yeah, I just have to show this off because I honestly spent a lot of man-hours on it. And well ... the end result was more than I ever imagined. SO ... without further ado, here is the special wedding gift I presented to my cousin this past weekend.

[caption id="attachment_740" align="alignleft" width="186" caption="My Special Wedding Gift"][/caption] If you might recall in a previous post, my cousin and I were very close growing up. We wrote detailed letters of our daily life, including many of our hopes and dreams, our troubles and concerns. And in return, we would receive lots of encouragement and support. I guess you could say that we were "bloggers" about 20 years ahead of our time, as the first of our back-to-back correspondences started around 1985. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="196" caption="All of My Cousin's Letters to Me "][/caption] I can't even imagine how many letters I sent to my cousin over the years. I suppose I could go back to my own special wedding gift from her, but quite frankly I'm too lazy to count. In total we must have exchanged well over two hundred letters amongst ourselves; some of them as long as 40 back-to-back, handwritten pages. And the only reason I'm guesstimating is because I must have scanned in more than 100 of her letters to me over the period of 6 weeks. That, and pictures of us growing up.

Hubby, the graphic designer, helped design the covers to the three books. Each book with a title taken from lyrics to an '80's song. And after doing some research, we were able to self-publish this book by uploading the pdf files to this site. I think they turned out awesome ... don't you?

Okay, so what happened when my cousin opened her gift?

[rockyou id=125284174&w=426&h=320]

Uh-huh ... it was quite emotional for the two of us. But just to see the look on her face, and how happy she was? And to know that I finally fulfilled a promise we made to each other back in our youth? It was worth all the sweat and tears.

Now ... bonus points for anyone that can name the title of the song and the artist for each of the three books!

Music Snob

Emily — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 02:51:59 +0000

Okay, totally stole this from Mrs. X. That, and spending time with my cousins this past weekend had me reminiscing about the styles and fashions and music of our day. So this is the deal.

A) Go to this site B) Enter the year you graduated from high school in the search function C) Copy and paste the list of 100 most popular songs of that year D) Bold the songs you like E) Strike through the ones you really hate I must preface this by telling you guys that, back in the late 80's-early 90's, I was a big music snob. I thought I was supremely cool for working at a "Rekka Sto" (as in Prin.ce's "Under The Cherry Moon"), and thought that I knew anything and everything about alternative music. G*d forbid I listen to anything "Top 40!" And that's probably why there isn't much I know or really like on this list. However ... today, I'm pretty much open to anything that has a good beat and/or a catchy lyric. And if something is amazingly written (instrument-wise), then that's definitely a bonus. And now, when I listen really closely to some of the songs that I hated back in "the day," I suddenly find myself appreciating some of them more than I did back then. The best example I can give you is this: I utterly despised GnR's "Sweet Child O'Mine" when it first hit the airwaves. Yuck, I remember thinking, here's yet another "big hair" 80's metal band. But today, when listening to the song "closely" on my iPod using my excellent d-JAYS earphones ... I am completely enthralled by how the song was written both lyrically and melodically. So, with that said ... I'm adding another rule to the above, which is to:

F) Bold/Italicize the songs that you hated in high school but appreciate today ...

And with that said ... Here's how my list for 1990 turned out:

Hold On, Wilson Phillips (uh-huh ... the harmonies ROCKED!)
It Must Have Been Love, Roxette
Nothing Compares 2 U, Sinead O'Connor
Poison, Bell Biv Devoe
Vogue, Madonna
Vision Of Love, Mariah Carey
Another Day In Paradise, Phil Collins
Hold On, En Vogue
Cradle Of Love, Billy Idol
Blaze Of Glory, Jon Bon Jovi
Do Me!, Bell Biv Devoe
How Am I Supposed To Live Without You, Michael Bolton
Pump Up The Jam, Technotronic
Opposites Attract, Paula Abdul
Escapade, Janet Jackson
All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You, Heart
Close To You, Maxi Priest
Black Velvet, Alannah Myles
Release Me, Wilson Phillips
Don't Know Much, Linda Ronstadt and Aaron Neville
All Around The World, Lisa Stansfield
l Wanna Be Rich, Calloway
I Remember You, Skid Row
Rub You The Right Way, Johnny Gill
She Ain't Worth It, Glenn Medeiros Featuring Bobby Brown
If Wishes Came True, Sweet Sensation
The Power, Snap
(Can't Live Without Your) Love and Affection, Nelson
Love Will Lead You Back, Taylor Dayne
Don't Wanna Fall In Love, Jane Child
Two To Make It Right, Seduction
Sending All My Love, Linear
Unskinny Bop, Poison
Step By Step, New Kids On The Block
Dangerous, Roxette
We Didn't Start The Fire, Billy Joel
I Don't Have The Heart, James Ingram
Downtown Train, Rod Stewart
Rhythm Nation, Janet Jackson
I'll Be Your Everything, Tommy Page
Roam, B-52's
Everything, Jody Watley
Back To Life, Soul II Soul
Here and Now, Luther Vandross
Alright, Janet Jackson
Ice Ice Baby, Vanilla Ice (admit it, it has a catchy beat!)
Blame It On The Rain, Milli Vanilli (so the lip-syncing sucked, but the song was still cool!)
Have You Seen Her, M.C. Hammer
With Every Beat Of My Heart, Taylor Dayne
Come Back To Me, Janet Jackson
No More Lies, Michel'le
Praying For Time, George Michael
How Can We Be Lovers, Michael Bolton
Do You Remember, Phil Collins
Ready Or Not, After 7
U Can't Touch This, M.C. Hammer
I Wish It Would Rain Down, Phil Collins
Just Between You and Me, Lou Gramm
Something Happened On The Way To Heaven, Phil Collins
Black Cat, Janet Jackson
Can't Stop, After 7
Janie's Got A Gun, Aerosmith
The Humpty Dance, Digital Underground
I'll Be Your Shelter, Taylor Dayne
Free Fallin', Tom Petty
Giving You The Benefit, Pebbles
Enjoy The Silence, Depeche Mode
Love Song, Tesla
Price Of Love, Bad English
Girls Nite Out, Tyler Collins
King Of Wishful Thinking, Go West
What Kind Of Man Would I Be?, Chicago
Get Up! (Before The Night Is Over), Technotroic
Here We Are, Gloria Estefan
Epic, Faith No More
Love Takes Time, Mariah Carey
Just Like Jesse James, Cher
Love Shack, B-52's
All Or Nothing, Milli Vanilli
Romeo, Dino
Everybody Everybody, Black Box
I Go To Extremes, Billy Joel
Whip Appeal, Babyface
Oh Girl, Paul Young
C'mon and Get My Love, D-Mob With Cathy Dennis
(It's Just) The Way That You Love Me, Paula Abdul
We Can't Go Wrong, Cover Girls
When I'm Back On My Feet Again, Michael Bolton
Make You Sweat, Keith Sweat
This One's For The Children, New Kids On The Block
What It Takes, Aerosmith
Forever, Kiss
Jerk Out, Time
Just A Friend, Biz Markie
Whole Wide World, A'me Lorain
Without You, Motley Crue
Swing The Mood, Jive Bunny and The Mastermixers
Thieves In The Temple, Prince
Mentirosa, Mellow Man Ace
Tic-Tac-Toe, Kyper

* Huh ... Just noticed how a lot of the songs on this list are more "Dance Tracks" (remember 12-inch maxi-single remixes?!) Again, goes to show how I fancied more the stuff played elsewhere (-ie- clubs, house parties, etc) rather than on the airwaves. ** Double Huh ... Also noticed that I seriously did not fancy any R&B artists back in the day.

Uh-Oh ...

Emily — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 13:40:54 +0000

I had a feeling this day would come. And I'm surprised it's only happened now ...

This is what I get for dressing in the dark!

As Hubby pointed out earlier, I suppose I could bring back the whole Kris Kross look.

'Cause "it's wiggidy wiggidy wiggidy wack!"

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Emily — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 14:43:11 +0000

Show and Tell: Yami's Holiday

Emily — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 14:45:33 +0000

So I decided that in order for me to post regularly, I should probably join an activity amongst our IF / Loss community. I made the attempt earlier this year to join the predecessor for IComLeavWe, but failed at it miserably. Trust me, it's not from lack of trying, it was more because working 10-hour days with nary-a-break (other than to nibble on lunch) leaves me incredibly exhausted with little brain-power to do much else. Which brings me to this post. I have decided to join the Show and Tell weekly thread, a week-to-week commitment where each participant brings something fun to share. Yes, it sound like fun and it does sound just like kindergarten! Anyway, for my first week I decided to share pictures of my cat, Yami. Now, I bet you're wondering why the title of this post says "Yami's Holiday." Well, it's because our kitty is a black cat and this coming Friday is Halloween ... the day for black cats to rule! :-) Seriously. Check out how MEAN she looks?!

Actually, Yami (pronounced "Yah-mee") is the most adorably precocious cat we've ever had. And, no ... she's not intentionally bearing her teeth at us. I just happened to snap a picture of her at the end of a yawn. This is how she normally looks like.

Ain't she adorable?! Well, that ain't the most adorable picture I've taken of her. That one happens to be this one.

Yup, I managed to catch the normally hyperactive kitty , who hates to be held, snuggling next to one of my stuffed animals. Busted! And actually, she does love to snuggle ... it just has to be on her terms (of course). We acquired Yami from our SIL about four years ago, when she moved into a new apartment and wasn't allowed to take more than one cat. Her name means "The Chosen One" in some variation of Japanese lore. Quite appropriate, as she seems to think she rules the household. Did I mention that she was smart?! Yes, this girl has managed to open doors and get herself locked into bedrooms she's not allowed to be in. And some days, I wonder what kind of trouble she gets into when we're not home. Seriously, do you think she might be posting stuff on my blog?

Oh, but Hubby & I love her so much. Our lives would be so much boring without her in it. So Yami, if you happen to be "googling" yourself ... I hope you know that you are my most favorite indoor indoor black kitty ever! Not to be confused with my most favorite indoor kitty ... that title is reserved for your sister, Rain!

BUSTED again!!

To read others' Show and Tell items for the week, click here!

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Emily — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 14:52:42 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 16:09:42 +0000

Me! Me! Pick Me!

Emily — Sun, 26 Oct 2008 16:43:00 +0000

Two posts in one day?! Oh. Em. Gee. (As my younger cousin would text, as an added emphasis on "OMG"). What the bloody heck is goin' on?! Well, I finally have a Sunday of absolutely no plans to do a little catching up on bloggies. And seeing as if I've recently been tagged for a meme, I figured I do it today. And actually, come to think of it. I've been tagged a few times with different meme's ... so might as well do them all!

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The first one was waaaaay back at the beginning of August from VA Blondie at Do Without Doing. Uhm ... yeah. So sorry it's taken me this long to do it!

The Rules

Link to the person who tagged you
Post the rules on your blog
Let the tagger know when your entry is posted.
Let each person you have tagged know by leaving a comment on their blog
Tag 6 people at the end of your post and link to them

Okay, six random thingies ...

I'm such a procrastinator. Oh yeah, right ... like you didn't already know!
I'm a coffee snob. Hate the nasty stuff at work and have to pick up "the good stuff" or brew my own before heading to the office.
I'm a sucker for word games. Throw a Scrabble board or a NYT Crossword in front of me, and I'm game. Not good at them, but I love doing them!
I have trust issues with my hair. Not that I do anything extraordinary to it (like cut/dye/style it a special way), I just don't like anyone I don't know or trust playing with it.
I'm not as daring or brave or as impulsive as most people (IRL) think. I'm actually quite a deliberative person who has to be excessively prepared before heading into a situation. (Okay, maybe I should have just said I was "anal-retentive"!)
Sunday mornings are probably my most favorite time of the week. I love sleeping in, but the utter quietness of Sunday mornings makes me feel at peace ... even for just a minute

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The next one is from Kara at Becoming Parents. (Okay, wow ... this one was from back in June! Talk about procrastination!) This meme was prompted by the book written by Larry Smith & Rachel Fershleiser, Not Quite What I Was Planning: Six Word Memoirs by Writers Famous & Obscure. Apparently, Hemingway once bet ten dollars that he could sum up his life in six words. His words were, “For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn.” The book is a compilation of similar 6 word stories. This meme challenges us to do the same:

Instructions:

Write your own six word memoir.
Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.
Link to the person who tagged you
Tag 5 more bloggers
Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play

Here's my Six (okay, really seven) Word Memoir and visual illustration:

(A) non-fictional account of triumph over tragedy

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And finally, Kate over at Bee in the Bonnet tagged me for this one word meme. Apparently I'm supposed to stick to a one word answer ... which, just like Kate, will be torture for someone who loves to just babble on and on and on ...

So here's my attempt

Where is your cell phone? Purse
Where is your significant other? Table
Your hair color? Black
Your mother? Religious
Your father? Traveling
Your favorite thing? Reading
Your dream last night? Scary
Your dream/goal? Far
The room you’re in? Cafe
Your hobby? Writing
Your fear? Failure
Where do you want to be in six years? Happy
Where were you last night? Football
What you’re not? Ignorant
One of your wish list items? Travel
Where you grew up? Suburbia
The last thing you did? Type
What are you wearing? Underwear
Your T.V.? Off
Your pet? Family
Your computer? MacBook
Your mood? Content
Missing someone? Cousins
Your car? Orange
Something you’re not wearing? Socks
Favorite store? Target
Your Summer? Gone
Love someone? Hubby
Your favorite color? Blue
When is the last time you laughed? Today
Last time you cried? Friday

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And if you've noticed, I've already broken the rules / failed to follow instructions. I've decided that I'm not going to tag anyone. So ptooey!

Boy, this was fun!

(Not so) Serious Rants

Emily — Mon, 27 Oct 2008 15:55:03 +0000

[caption id="attachment_795" align="alignleft" width="254" caption="Pictures from Football Saturday"][/caption] Well, I can't believe the last week of October is already here. It seems like just yesterday that it was Labor Day weekend and Hubby & I were celebrating our 12th wedding anniversary. And even though the past two months felt like they've flown by ... when going over the blog posts I've written during this time period, it feels as if the end of August was a lifetime away. Yes, I did not deal with certain events during this interval very well. And to some extent I'm still not doing so hot. But I think I've come to the decision that there isn't much more I can do that would make things any better or any worse for me at this moment. As my Hubby is so fond of saying, "It is what it is." In other words, accept it and move on. This coming Saturday will include a family function that ... I'll be honest ... I'm a little apprehensive to attend. However, I will do so only for the love of these children and for the love of family. I'm not exactly sure how the rest of the family will treat me, but I will make the effort to be on my best behavior. I have a feeling I will be full of anxiety for the duration we are there, but perhaps the little white magic pill I'll take before heading out the door will help. Thank G*d for modern chemistry. In addition, I'm already expecting work to be extremely busy this week. (Okay, so when is it not busy?!) The Process Improvement group I'm part of is presenting it's results from our first session to the big-wig execs tomorrow, which means that I should find something other than jeans to wear to work. And yes, I am lucky enough to work for a company that sees the value in promoting casual work wear (which includes jeans, in our case). And I think it's great as a Health Insurance Company, that they did this to help promote exercise, activity and overall healthy living. But crap ... I haven't worn "business-wear" in years. Not since the days of being a "stupor-visor." Do I even fit into any of it? Somehow methinks not. Anyway ... This past Saturday, Hubby & I spent the day in Ann Arbor doing a very typical Midwestern-y Fall Activity. Well typical for those that enjoy watching sports. We spent the day watching the annual "Battle for the State" game; the University of Michigan vs. Michigan State football game at the Big House. We were expecting it to be a very cold and wet day, but the weather gods apparently decided to be kind to us instead. Unfortunately the sports gods weren't too kind to my team, as we lost. It was an exciting game, nonetheless. Oh, and I just happened to snap a picture of this:

Yep, that's right some of the University of Michigan students supporting "Oba-den" (uh-huh ... I like combining words). It's seeing those things that remind me why I enjoyed college life so much. Those were the days where I felt I could make some sort of difference in the world. The days where I felt invincible. Not that I'm not contributing to society and making a difference in this world right now ... I think I find myself more invisible these days than invincible. In any case ... the picture ROCKS! And I'm so surprised that there weren't too many "McPalin" supporters at the game; especially because I have this image of the rich, older U of M alumni being more Republican than Democratic. Anyway (as I continue to babble), on the 40-some minute drive to Ann Arbor (and afterwards, as we were stuck in post-game traffic), Hubby and I were listening to a couple of NPR podcasts we downloaded onto our iPod. One of the podcasts came highly recommended by a co-worker/NPR-listener/friend of mine, as it was an episode of "This American Life" that broke down the current economic crisis in terms that everyday people could understand. And while searching for that episode online, Hubby found another episode aired in May of this year and was actually the predecessor to this October episode. [caption id="attachment_796" align="alignright" width="284" caption="The Wolverine fan in me is still trying to understand how Sparty is College Football's most favorite mascot "][/caption] Now, I can't claim any prior knowledge (other than what we typically hear in the daily newscasts) on exactly why our country is in such economic turmoil. However, I can tell you this. The more I listened and learned, the more I found myself getting angrier. Seriously. Nothing says "Let's make more money off the poor so we can get richer" like listening to some of the stories told. And the fact that none of these financial "schemes" (for lack of better word) have been regulated?! Well ... it totally pisses off the RN Case Manager in me that works for a Health Insurance company where ... anything and everything (in terms of dollars and cents) is scrutinized by the government. Okay, so I totally understand that regulating health care is a matter of life and death. But really (in my humble opinion), by not regulating our financial market at all ... well crap! We're letting strangers bet on our livelihoods. And when you think about it, that's what these financial people are doing ... gambling with our lives! Okay, I will get off my high horse for now. But again, I strongly recommend you listening to these podcasts. There's a 95 cent fee to download the podcast from the website. Or you can always listen to them free directly on the site. Oh, and while I'm on the whole NPR thing. Here's a little tidbit I heard on the radio this evening. Apparently there is modern version of the "New Testament" coming out tomorrow that supposedly is very "pop culture"-ish. The little bit I caught talked about having images in it like Co.ca.Co.la and Gandhi. But the best part was hearing this girl say, "Can't have a bible without Bono!" And with that crack of lightning (from the heavens above) ... I'm "Audi 5000"!

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Emily — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 04:04:02 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 04:07:30 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 28 Oct 2008 04:09:43 +0000

Cool Breaths ...

Emily — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:30:51 +0000

(Update 11.17.2008: I’ve decided to split up this post into two parts in order to allow for parts of this previously PWP post to be finally visible.)

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Well, I have to say ... it's officially fall here in SE Detroit. The air has finally chilled to the point where I really shouldn't be walking around in just my Mary Jane Crocs sans-socks (heh, I rhymed) anymore. But more importantly, I feel as if I've cooled down from the two months of anger I've been feeling since the end of August. Which is strange, because it's not as if anything major has changed in my relationship with my SIL. I came to this realization this afternoon while talking with therapist as she asked me how things were going with my SIL. And I responded by simply shrugging my shoulders. The truth is, I know that the ball is ceremoniously back in my court. And I think I'm going to hold it for a while. Believe me, it's not as if I'm holding onto it just to be spiteful. Actually, that's furthest from the truth right now. The only reason I'm just not ready to toss it back just yet is because of my fear of how she would respond. I know you all think I'm crazy. But this is the same college roommate who, when I kindly asked her to perhaps spend some time at her boyfriend's apartment instead of always in our small dorm room, screamed loudly at me and told me that I was just jealous. In which afterwards she called said-boyfriend to have her pick her up. (Uhm ... jealous of what? I was already going out with her brother by then.) So that night I wrote her a letter apologizing and telling her that I've just been stressed with my classes that semester and needed some quiet time in our room to study. And before leaving for my classes the next morning, I left the note on her bed (since she never came back that night). When I came back later in the afternoon, I found the note back on my bed, shredded into pieces. Which was then followed by a few days of the silent treatment, of which was broken only after I started to talk to her again. Yeah, so much for apologies. Anyway, that's one of many examples of why I'm hesitant to extend an olive branch just yet. Believe me, I am sorry for how these past two months turned out. I hate that it puts strain on my husband. And I hate that it makes me anxious to attend any family-related functions. So I will make the effort to be civil and courteous to her. And I will be taking Io's advice and breathe slowly; take some of that chilly air into my lungs. (See this next post for continuation of this original post ...)

... Of Fresh Air

Emily — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:30:51 +0000

(Update 11.17.2008: I’ve decided to split up this post into two parts in order to allow for parts of this previously PWP post to be finally visible. To see the first part of this post, click here.)

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So let's see. What else can I tell you? Uhm ... things are looking good on the job front. After several phone conversations back and forth with the Nurse Recruiter at our sister company in another state, I have a formal interview scheduled at their company on Nov. 10th. And the thing is, they were really asking me to come out and interview sooner, but because of scheduling conflicts (big exec presentation this week and Election Day / cousin's cotillion next week) we couldn't do it until that date. And the other thing is, they've already sent a benefit package for me to review. And they've asked me to fill out some paperwork to start the background check. Uhm ... maybe I'm being waaay to optimistic, but something tells me that they reaallly want me to start ASAP if I should get hired! Which means that they're thinking that I'll do swimmingly well on this interview. Which means I may actually be moving out of state ... !! I can't tell you how even just the thought of moving out of state excites me. As weird as it sounds (okay maybe not that weird), I'm looking forward to the possibility of a new beginning. I'm looking forward to purging out all the old bad "stuff" and starting over. And when I mean "stuff" I do mean all the junk we've collected in our house and in our (or rather MY ) heart and mind. I'm looking forward to finally getting my second chance. Oh, but I hope I'm not setting myself up for a big disappointment ... So if anybody's got clout with the Big Man upstairs, can I ask you to put a good word in for me?

Dedseas

Emily — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 21:41:00 +0000

Okay, anybody else gettin' funky "Word Verification" words on Bl.ogger lately?! I think over the past few days I've had "trashed", "winced", "feared" and "bloodread." And just now? I got "dedseas." Just found it rather humorous. Yep ... just letting you know that the password remains the same. (Lowercase again. I think I'll just stick to lower case from now on.) And, as always ... if you're interested in reading or can't remember what the password is (don't worry, I won't bite!), feel free to comment on this post.

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Emily — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 22:27:57 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 01:26:26 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 01:27:17 +0000

Political Non-Pundit

Emily — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 23:42:16 +0000

I am no political expert. In fact, I'm probably furthest from that. However, I do like to keep myself pretty well informed. Especially because Election Day is now less than a week away. And seeing as this was one h*ll of a presidential campaign run, it's hard not to want to be well-informed. (Sidenote: It's times like this, that I reaaallly miss Tim Russert. He just had an excellent way of explaining politics that made it fascinating. Election night coverage will not be the same without him ...) Anyways, I strongly believe in the right to vote. After all, democracy (and, a-hem ... not free market) is what this country was founded on. And while I agree that campaigning is needed in order to promote a candidate's platform, I don't agree when someone tries to tell you how to vote. That, of course, does not mean that people aren't allowed to debate with each other about who they support or don't support a particular candidate. [caption id="attachment_821" align="alignleft" width="199" caption="Anybody notice how McCain & Palin are both in the same size font ..."][/caption] Let me reiterate that one more time. I don't agree when someone tries to tell you how to vote. And why am I bringing this up now? Well of course, it's because I have a story to tell. Last Tuesday I dropped my parents off at the airport. They were on their way to Turkey and Greece to participate on a tour based on the travels of St. Paul. (Uh huh ... you probably already know where this is going.) Because my car has been acting up, I suggested that we take their car to the airport. That way they could pack the car while waiting for me to drive over to their house. So the drive to the airport was a smooth ride. So smooth that I considered "borrowing" their car for the two weeks they would be away. Never mind that she had a rosary (and a Franciscan Tau) hanging off her rear view mirror ... I would have totally "borrowed" it for a couple weeks. The conversation was light. As we just got back from my cousin's wedding, we talked about how great it was to be in the same room with everyone again. It wasn't until we got to the airport curb where the main part of my story takes place. As we were pulling out their luggage from the trunk, I glanced down at the bumper sticker that she's had on her bumper forever ("Love a Franciscan: 2B1 Ask 1") and chuckled like I always did when I spotted it. (As I've said in the past, my mom is very strong in her Catholic faith.) But then I glanced to the right of that sticker and saw a "Vote No on Proposal 2" bumper sticker. (More on Prop 2 in a bit.) After helping them unload their luggage, I turned to give Dad a hug and kiss. And as I lean in to give my mom her hug, she pushes my hair off my shoulder and whispers in my ear, "Don't forget to vote for McCain. And don't forget to vote No on 2." In which I promptly kissed her on her cheek and wished her a safe and fun trip. I briefly shook my head afterwards and thought, "Yup, should have seen that coming." For those of you that aren't familiar, Michigan's Prop 2 is a proposal to allow for embryonic stem cell research within the state. In the past, my mom and I have had conversations about stem cell research. My mom, of course being a devout Catholic does not support any type of stem cell research (and yes, of course she's a "Right to Life" person as well). And myself? Well the truth is, I'm still trying to determine how I feel about it; which is exactly what I told her. And that's because of my own personal experience with our one and only IVF cycle and the one lone blastocyte that was left for us to freeze (to see what happened to that one embie ... click here). [caption id="attachment_822" align="alignright" width="213" caption="... while Obama is clearly larger (and in a more prominent color) than Biden?"][/caption] However, after that little bit at the airport ... I felt myself fighting off every urge to vote Yes, just to cancel out her vote. But I won't do that. I will make an informed, unbiased decision before November 4th. And I will make it based on my own opinions. And I won't let her (or anyone else, for that matter) know how I voted either. Because while I support the need to campaign and to rally for whatever (or whomever) you're voting on (or for) ... and while I don't hold anything against those that openly show how (or who) they're voting ... I personally believe that my vote is confidential. The important thing is that everyone should go out and vote. For no other reason than BECAUSE YOU CAN. As for whether or not I decided to "borrow" the car for a couple weeks ... well, as you can guess, I decided against it. The icing on the cake was when I had no choice but to head straight to my doctor's appointment after being stuck in the mid-morning rush hour traffic. Which doctor and for which appointment, you might ask? Well, of all things ... it was my first appointment with my new OB/Gyn. Uh, so yeah. I hid the car at the back of the lot. I so didn't feel like getting into it with any person who may be for or against Proposal 2.

She's No Teenage Witch

Emily — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 10:30:36 +0000

On my first Show and Tell post, I shared with you some pictures of Yami, our charming black kitty. Our favorite indoor black kitty, who was not to be mistaken with our favorite indoor senior citizen kitty, Rain. Well, I had to make that distinction because of this little one.

Meet Sabrina, our favorite outdoor black kitty.

Except Sabrina is actually our next-door neighbors kitty who loves to hang out in the bushes in front of our house. Hubby and I call her "Sabby" for short, because she reminds us of yet another black cat, named Sabbath. Except Sabbath is actually a fictional kitty, who is part of this cool goth chick's kitty posse.

But going back to Sabrina. She is the most affable black cat that I've ever met. I think that if a person was superstitious of a black cat crossing their path, they should stay off of our street. Because, Sabby will definitely friendly enough to try to meet you (at least if she doesn't see you as threatening). Sabby and I are in such good terms that if she happens to see my car turning onto our street from down the street, she will literally sprint towards our house in anticipation of me pulling into our driveway. And I know that I recently garnered much respect from her when, as I sat on our porch steps to pet her, she climbed right onto my lap and snuggled. Her "real" owners say that she's not like this with anyone else except her "mom" and her human "sister." I think I've literally become one of her "sisters." But my favorite Sabby story is the time that I happened to find our neighbors dog on our lawn. I went inside to grab our dog leash to snap onto our neighbor dog's collar. And when I came out, Sabby was sitting on our porch, making sure that doggie didn't run off again. And as I walked down the street towards doggie's human house, I glanced to my side and saw Sabby walking right next to me. And after neighbor doggie was dropped off, Sabby and I turned around and walked down the street side by side. So today, on Halloween, I thought I'd share Sabby with you. She is definitely my most favorite outdoor black kitty.

Happy Halloween!!

On Being There ...

Emily — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 15:08:29 +0000

I woke up about 4:30 this morning to the sound of my "puppy" needing a potty break. And because of that, I wasn't able to get back to sleep right away. So instead, I fired up my laptop and started playing catch-up with blog-reading. It was at that early hour that I read this excellent post from Mrs. Spit. Now, Mrs. Spit, I hope you don't mind me saying ... but that post had me desperately trying to hold back the tears. For it's that silent communication that I've been searching for in my life. That feeling of knowing that someone ... anyone ... close by in proximity would (directly) acknowledge the hurt and that pain that I felt. And someone would realize how hard it was on some days to just get through certain moments, certain snippets in time. Yesterday, being Halloween, was one of those snippets in time. Particularly made worse by the fact that it's a very child-centric holiday. For obvious reasons, our yearly ritual of walking around trick-or-treating with our nephew was suspended. Understandably so, as the events of this past two months have put such a huge strain on the current relationship status with his family. But that's neither here nor there. And this is not another post about those issues. This is a post of what happens when someone finally made that connection with me. Today. This morning, in fact. And as I write about it now, the tears can't help but spring back up again. Because this is what I get for trying to hold them back earlier this morning. Simply said ... there is nothing ... nothing better than having your fears and your hurt and your pain directly acknowledged. Nothing better than having someone validate that what I'm feeling is real. Nothing better than having someone understand how hard it is to be and to act in my situation. Nothing better than having someone physically say these things to you. And mean it. And you know in your heart and your mind that she does. Because, although she will soon join the ranks of motherhood, she's been there, too.

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Emily — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 16:12:58 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 01 Nov 2008 17:32:06 +0000

Show and Tell: Oasis' Sister

Emily — Sun, 02 Nov 2008 11:15:14 +0000

Do you remember the band Oasis? If you do, then you'd remember that the band comprised of two brothers named Liam and Noel Gallagher. I don't listen to them as much anymore, but back in the mid-1990's the songs off their album, (What's the Story) Morning Glory, played a prominent part in the day's following my 1996 wedding to Hubby. To this day hearing these songs, particularly "Don't Look Back In Anger, remind me of driving in our convertible rental car (with the top down, of course) back to our hotel in Kaanapali from Lahaina on the island of Maui. That song just happened to be playing on the radio as we drove up the coastline while watching the sun set on the ocean. It. Was. Heaven on Earth. But I digress. This post wasn't to share that memory (although, I hope you enjoyed that imagery). This post is about another mid-1990's pop-culture icon. A person, who might be related to the brothers from Oasis. [caption id="attachment_841" align="alignleft" width="146" caption="Mary Katherine Gallagher"][/caption] Oh yes, I'm talking about Mary Katherine Gallagher. Remember her from SNL in the mid-nineties? Yes, today my Show and Tell item is the Halloween costume I wore to work this year. Okay, so I wasn't exactly Mary Katherine ... but the intent was to be a Catholic school girl. A bad one, nonetheless. And no, I don't mean the sexy Brit.ney version either. It started off as a joke when my co-worker told me that she and her sister went to a costume party dressed as nuns. (Ha! Get it?! Sisters dressed as "Sisters"?) When we found out that there would be a costume contest at work, I jokingly said that I'd come as a Catholic school girl (with green and white saddle shoes!) and she could come in as one of my "teachers" back in my grade school days, complete with the wooden ruler for disciplinary purposes. So we hatched a plan where we'd arrive at work at the same time and walk in together. After all ... the effect wouldn't have been the same if we came in separately. Friday morning ... I'm patiently waiting in our parking lot when my co-worker's car pulls up behind me. One look in my rearview mirror and I'm completely cracking up ... because she looked exactly like how one of my grade school teachers would look. As I literally stumble out of my car, she points up at the front of the parking lot ... and there is my other co-worker dressed up as a nun as well. As my co-worker said, "When have you ever seen a Sister without another one around? They always travel in pairs!"

Well needless to say, we had a blast playing our parts for the day. And during the competition, our "skit" included the me chewing gum and putting on inappropriately shiny lip gloss, as well as them chasing me while screaming, "Get back to class, young lady!"

After all was said and done ... we won third place! And that was without the "flask" and candy cigarettes I wanted to carry around ... Woo-hoo!

[rockyou id=125880033&w=426&h=320]

Don't forget to check out the other Show and Tell blogs!

And while you're at it ... check out my latest favorite black kitty cate!

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Emily — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 02:29:43 +0000

Attempt No. 2

Emily — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 03:51:04 +0000

Okay, so I'm going out on a limb here. Seeing that I have now consistently written just about every day (sans a day here and there) for the past three weeks, I've decided to make another attempt at posting more consistently. I may live to regret this, but I think I'm going to attempt NaBloPoMo. I personally blame Becky from Mommy Wants Vodka (just kidding, Becky ... ) for inspiring me to do this. She's doing it, so I decided to try it too. Of course, she's also more a consistent poster than I am, so we'll see how well I do. So what to talk about today (which, I guess is technically Day 3)? Perhaps how I should have been wearing this t-shirt today at work? Hmm, for those of you that questioned who I was planning on voting for from this post ... I guess you probably can figure it out now. Well, at least I still have tomorrow to wear that shirt. Wonder what the Exit-Poll people would do if they approached me. Or I could talk about how I need to remember not to schedule my dental cleaning four days after Halloween again. What. Was. I. Thinking?! Seriously ... I'm a little afraid for my poor hygienist, who might be finding some "Bit O'Honey" or bite-size "Snickers" bits in the back. Poor, poor girl. Or I could talk about how this evening I watched "Duran Duran: Live from Wembley"on VH1 Classic Concerts. (And yes, Kara ... was totally thinking of you.) It made me regret not going to see them in concert for that tour. Because, is it me? Or did Simon Le Bon's voice get better and stronger with age? Or did technology advance that much since watching the "Arena" concert? Oh, I know. I'll talk about how easy it is to get suckered into taking stupid online quizzes. I must confess, that one time ( ... at band camp ... ) I must have spent an evening just taking quizzes. For me, it usually starts off by reading about someone else's quiz. In this case, it was another friend's blog who took a quiz on what she should be when she grows up. Of course then I wanted to find out for myself (because I still haven't figured it out ... ). And once I finished that quiz, I saw another one I wanted to take. And another one. And yet another one. I swear ... I must have taken about 5 of them. But this one was the one that made me stop:

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You Are Changing Leaves

Pretty, but soon dead. What Part of Fall Are You? (Don't click it ... even though I know you want to!)

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I mean, seriously? "Pretty, but soon dead"?! Kinda a little freaky, don't you think? And to think, that Fall is my absolute favorite season. Hmm ... I might need to rethink that.

Okay, babbling enough. Guess I need to save some of this babble and spread it out over the next month ...

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Emily — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 22:32:23 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 22:45:46 +0000

Tooth Troll

Emily — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 22:47:38 +0000

So I survived yet another teeth-cleaning without any major catastrophes. Thank goodness. And no, my dental hygienist didn't have to dig out any candy bit between my teeth, but she did manage to find a grape peel back there. Heh ... at least it was a fruit. Every time I go to for my routine dental appointment, I get the standard lecture. "You need to floss more often." "Make sure you don't drink too much acid-y drinks." Oh, and "You're using a soft toothbrush, right?" [caption id="attachment_870" align="alignleft" width="200" caption="Tootsie the Tooth Fairy Troll"][/caption] The soft toothbrush was suggested a couple years ago because apparently my gums are quite "sensitive." In other words, if I flossed more consistently, maybe they wouldn't bleed so d*mn much. So usually I'm good about flossing for the first month or so after a trip to the dentist, but then I relapse. Fall off the Floss Wagon. This time around though, I got a concerned look when she asked the "soft toothbrush" question. After responding yes, my hygienist tells me that I probably should start using an "ultra soft" one. First of all, never knew that they made one. And second of all, uh ... why? Well, apparently I'm brushing my teeth and gums too hard. To the point where my gums are receding too much. And where apparently I'm supposed to be feeling sensitive to hot or cold foods. Except I'm not. Feeling sensitive spots, that is. Nor do I realize that I'm brushing my teeth and gums that hard either. Somehow, methinks that over the past six months, I've been taking some of my recent stress out on my mouth. Okay, so enough about teeth. It's a beautiful day outside today. Perfect voting weather for Election Day. Yes, I know that sounds strange, but studies show that when the weather is nice more people are apt to go out and vote. And when the weather is bad (rainy and cold), there are many people that don't want to go out and vote. So yes, voting was our first order of business today. And I did wear the shirt I should have worn at work yesterday. Surprisingly, the exit-poll person ignored me. Heh. And after running a few more errands (including the trip to the dentist), it's time for me to chillax. Oh, and do laundry. And snuggle with the furbabies .... Maybe that will help me from reducing the stress I obviously take out on my teeth. (Whew ... post # 4 done!)

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Emily — Wed, 05 Nov 2008 04:22:07 +0000

Dream. Hope. Change.

Emily — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 02:14:45 +0000

I am overwhelmed with emotion today; brimming with excitement and hope. And all because of the results of yesterday's Presidential Election. I know I said that I wouldn't let people know who I voted for simply because I felt my vote was confidential. Well, today I'm breaking from that thought. And it's all because of how historic this moment in time is. Let me start off by saying that regardless of who would have won this election, today ... or rather last night ... it would have been a historic moment. Whether it was an African-American president or a Woman Vice-President, it would have been a first for these United States. However, being the liberal person that I've always been, I believe that my faithful readers would have realized who I voted for, even though I never said it "out loud." But here it goes: I am proud to say that I voted for Barrack Obama. I am proud that I voted for a person who, amongst the two candidates, best aligned with my beliefs. I am proud that this is a person who was more attuned to the needs of my generation. You know ... the generation that, in it's current state, won't be able to afford to retire, won't get any social security, and won't have any health insurance. The same person who believes that people have the right to choose. But Obama being elected isn't the main reason I'm feeling this incredible pride for this country. Today, I am proud to call myself American ... not because terrorists invaded our soil and we survived (although, I am proud of that) ... but because we, as a nation, have made one ginormous step towards breaking down stereotypes and races. And we have once again, instilled a sense of hope for our nation; that we can overcome any type of adversity to achieve change.

[caption id="attachment_794" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="I know I posted this before ... but I just love this pic!"][/caption] I wonder if this feeling of hope and excitement was how women other African-American's felt when they were first granted the right to vote. That feeling of being able to make a difference. To be able to make free choices. If this is how it felt like back during that time period, then I now know why those events were emphasized so much in History classes. Because just like it was during those times, right now ... at this moment, we are ready for change. ANY change. Oh, I'm not that naive to think that by voting an African-American man into the highest executive position in our country is going to change people's opinions and views of an entire minority race. G*d knows that it was well after women were given the right to vote when (back in 1984) an entire political party felt that a woman would be "strong" enough to carry the Vice-Presidential ticket. And to this day, there are still many discrepancies to be found in promoting equality within a work place. But the fact of the matter is that yesterday ... we, as a country, opened that door; the door which allows our children (or in most of my reader's cases, nieces or nephews) to know that any dream is possible ...

The Quick Brown Fox ...

Emily — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 02:01:28 +0000

jumped over the lazy dog ... Oh yeah ... Day # 6 and I'm already stretching the dregs of creativity. Okay, so I do have a few posts in the work but I just haven't had time to sit down and write them "properly." After all ... I am quite the deliberative person. So. What to talk about today? How about how I went to pick up my parents at the airport this afternoon? Except I wasn't quite sure what time I was supposed to be there until about, oh ... let's say 1o am this morning? Yeah. So when I went to their house to drop them OFF at the airport at the beginning of their trip ... in typical Filipino fashion, my parents (well, actually my Mom) was running behind and rushing around. She left me what she thought would be their flight itinerary, but in reality ... all the paper had was a list of where they would be on a day-to-day basis. Nope. No flight info anywhere. Of course I didn't realize this until after the had already been gone for a few days. And of course there was no way to get a hold of them, as part of their international trip included cruising the Greek Isles. And why would they think of calling me just to make sure they were okay? (Hello?! Dad with a history of a heart attack and open heart surgery within the past year ... in a foreign country?!) But ... at least I knew what day they were scheduled to come back home. And what airline they were using. AND which airport they were flying in from. So, "Encyclopedia Emily" decided to go to the airline website and figure out which flights were coming into Detroit from the airport they were flying out from. And my excellent deductive skills narrowed it down to three different times. Problem was, that they were all about 2-3 hours apart in time. So I could've showed up at the first time and possibly have had to wait until they showed up (which could be as long as 6 hours ... can you imagine that?!) OR I could hope to G*d that they would call me before their flight takes off. Lucky me, the latter happened. Which is good, because there's nothing to do and no place to just hang out around our airport. And I wasn't about to pay whatever huge amount it would be to just park my car in the lot. AND, well ... I didn't bring anything to do (read: knitting) if I had to wait around. Okay. So that was a lame story. I promise a better one this weekend. But maybe not tomorrow, because I've got my youngest cousin's wedding ... oops, I mean cotillion-slash-18th birthday party to attend.

For Everything Else ...

Emily — Fri, 07 Nov 2008 21:25:43 +0000

Last Season's Green Plaid "School Girl" Skirt with Matching Green Sweater on clearance at Old N.avy: [caption id="attachment_878" align="aligncenter" width="200" caption=""Sometimes, when I get nervous ... ""][/caption]

$8.00

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Slightly used Green and White Saddle Shoes purchased from local thrift store:

[caption id="attachment_879" align="aligncenter" width="266" caption="They're actually Green & White GOLF shoes!!"][/caption]

$5.00

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Two Wooden Promotional Rulers:

Free

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GettingTwo Co-workers in Nun Costumes to chase you around the office building:

Priceless

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For everything else ... There's Laughter Card

Show and Tell: Doin' De-butt

Emily — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 01:39:12 +0000

I actually posted this on Saturday. And really, since I've been out of town, I didn't have a chance to post a Show and Tell this Sunday. So instead, I'm updating this post to make it this Sunday's Show and Tell. Presenting ... my youngest cousin's cotillion. Or what we call, a "Debut." In my case ... it's de-butt! :-) And make sure that you peruse the other Show and Tell posts this week!

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Whew. This was a busy week. Monday was spent catching up on the events that happened over the weekend. No ... not the "social" aspect of last weekend (although I might blog about that another day). Working as an RN in the health care industry, the work never stops. Even when working for an insurance company. So as the phone calls and faxes came furiously all day Monday, there was little to no time to rest. And given that our company was closed for Election Day ... well, I wanted to get everything from the weekend done by the end of Monday, so that Wednesday, I could work on everything that came in from Monday and Tuesday. So basically, my work week was spent trying to catch up from the previous couple of days. I. Hate. Work Weeks. Like That. [caption id="attachment_894" align="alignright" width="267" caption="Yep. Me at my Debut with a few of my cousins; the same year my youngest cousin was born"][/caption] Tuesday, obviously Election Day. Hubby & I tried to stay up to watch the results come in, but ended up falling asleep in bed with the T.V. still on. I swear, one minute (oh, let's say around 11:30) Obama had 207 to McCain's 148 (or something like that ...) and the next, it's 11:55 and the news reporter on the T.V. announces that they're waiting for the new President-Elect Obama to give his victory speech in Chicago. And then the next minute it's 5:30 in the morning and the T.V. is off. I'm guessing that Hubby finally turned it off when finally going to bed. Or, I turned it off in my sleep haze and don't remember doing so. Either way, I'm seriously bummed I didn't get to hear Obama's speech. (Sidenote: A week prior to the results of this election, I received one of those mass emails from one of my parents' friends about how a vote for Obama would mean a vote against G*d ... or something along those lines. And since then, I've been getting these "replies" from people that I don't even know either agreeing or disagreeing to that first email. Today ... I got one with this article attached to it. Grr ... [caption id="attachment_895" align="alignleft" width="254" caption="And here's the Cousins 18 yrs later!"][/caption] Wednesday was obviously a repeat of Monday morning. And we all know what happened on Thursday. Now yesterday ... yesterday evening was fun. It was my youngest cousin's cotillion. In the Philippines, it's customary to celebrate a girl's "coming of age" by having a "Debut" party when she turns 18. (Think "My Sup.er Sw.eet Sixteen" with a two year delay.) I had a variation of one; more of a combination of a graduation / birthday party, all while wearing a fancy shmancy dress. My youngest cousin had, what I consider more of a traditional Filipino cotillion; complete with the white ballgown, the 16 or 18 person "Cotillion Court", and the ballroom dance routine. [caption id="attachment_896" align="alignright" width="201" caption="She Could Be Princess Ja.smi.ne!"][/caption] Oh, and did I mention that her party was more elaborate than my wedding?! Uh, yeah. So much that when we got the invitation in the mail ... I thought that it was actually a wedding invite! Even the banquet hall was complete with a "head table" (for my cousin and her "Court") and chair slipcovers with baby blue satin ribbons to match her "theme." And the cake ... !! But really, the best part of the party was, once again, being with my cousins. One came from as far as California just to celebrate with us. And the fun that ensued was beyond incredible. As tired as I was from the past work week ... I wished we could have spent more time together. Perhaps one day we'll be able to do the "girl cousins" cruise we planned that night! (Another Sidenote: If you ever want to see a great example of a traditional Filipino cotillion ... not to mention an excellent example of growing up Filipino-American, go rent "The Debut". It's so "on the nose" that it totally freaked even Hubby out!) [caption id="attachment_898" align="alignleft" width="201" caption="The Wedding ... I mean Cotillion Cake"][/caption] And today? Well, today I'm finally getting a chance to relax. Hubby & I took a trip to Chicago for an extra-long weekend getaway. A much needed getaway. We've been busy nonstop with various activities since Labor Day and just wanted to have a moment together without any distractions. And when we got a most excellent deal on a Downtown Chi-town hotel, well we snapped up the offer. So as I type, I'm lying in our wonderful king-size bed watching my Hubby snore next to me. Oh, and I think he's getting sick, too. But I'm seriously okay with that. And to tell you the truth, I almost half-expected him to get sick. After all, he has had little to no sleep over the past weeks. And this is his body's way of telling him that taking care of himself is just as important (if not more) than any other business he has. Besides, then I wouldn't have time to write this post.

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Emily — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 04:01:28 +0000

144

Emily — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 04:10:33 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 04:34:56 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 09 Nov 2008 04:44:06 +0000

Freedom of Choice

Emily — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 00:55:44 +0000

So yeah ... this is going to be one of those long, rambling posts. One where I will express my opinions about ethical issues. Besides, what better time to do this; less than a week after Election Day? Remember Michigan's Proposal 2? It's the proposal that allows stem cell research within the State of Michigan? The same proposal that had gotten many conservative "Pro-Life"-er's up in arms? The same one in which had my Mom placing a "2 Goes 2 Far" bumper sticker on her car? (Which, by the way, I took off her car before having to go pick them up from the airport last Thursday ... :-P ) This is the same proposal that had me on the fence for a long time on if I should vote yes or no during the election this past Tuesday. And as I mentioned in passing, I struggled with my decision because of my own experience with IVF. Like many others, there was so much involved when Hubby & I went through our IVF cycle. First there was all the medication (read: shots) I had to take. Then there were all the "blood donations" I made to the laboratory (read: vampire) to measure my hormone levels; sometimes on a daily basis. And of course, there's those "special dates" I had with the US tech and her "magic wand." All of this was done so that my IVF doc (called a Reproductive Endocrinologist, or RE for short) could gain some sort of a "controlled environment" over my (already screwed up) body in order to achieve the "optimal conditions" (read: lots of eggies to fertilize and a cushy uterus to house any baby blastocytes) for a pregnancy. When we entered our IVF cycle, we basically knew that we were giving ourselves (mind and body) over to the process. If we were told that I needed to go into the office for lab draws and an ultrasound; we didn't question why, we just did it. If I was told to increase the dose of my medication in order to stimulate follicle growth, I knew I hated to give myself more hormones... but I still did it. Because the end result of a successful pregnancy and live birth is what Hubby & I were aiming for. And we obviously wanted biological child of our own so much, that we were willing to give up anything to achieve it. To say that we lost a little bit of control over the situation at hand is an understatement. Actually, it was probably about twenty yards BELOW what an understatement normally would be. Simply put, in the midst of an IVF cycle: There. Is. NO. Control. Now, I bet you're wondering why I'm reliving this aspect of my life. And what this all has to do about Proposal 2. But before I explain ... let's go through exactly what was written in this proposal: In basic language, Proposal 2 allows stem cell research on human embryos that were created soley for the purpose of fertility treatments. There are strict criteria for what kind of human embryos can be use. First of all, the embryos must be voluntarily donated specifically by the person(s) seeking fertility treatments; and this must be documented in writing. Second of all, the embryos donated should be either in excess of the clinical needs of the person seeking treatment and would otherwise be destroyed if not donated ... OR the embryos donated were not suitable for implantation and would also otherwise be destroyed if not donated. And finally, no stem cells may be taken from any human embryo more than 14 days after cell division begins. (Sidenote: Why 14 days you may wonder? Prior to the 14 days, the fertilized egg is technically still called a blastocyte. After 14 days, when the blastocyte begins to divide and properly turn into the placenta and the umbilical cord, the blastocyte is then considered an embryo. For an in-depth explanation of these stages, click on these links. For a basic, non-medical explanation, click here.) Okay, now that it's explained ... let me focus on one specific part of that proposal. The part that says voluntarily donated. And now go back to what I said before. About having no control over the situation when going through the IVF process. When starting the actual IVF process ... when literally signing up for an IVF cycle, not only is there a lot of instructions given up front, but there is also a ton of paperwork to go through. Most of that paperwork has to do with timetables, schedules, and payment of services. But there's also all the legal paperwork; the stuff that forced Hubby and me to slow down and really think about what we were getting ourselves into. How many blastocytes did we want to implant at one time? (Two) Did we want to freeze any remaining blastocytes for a possible future frozen cycle? (Yes) After one year, what would you like to do with the frozen blastocytes? (Will decide after the one year) If something should happen to either partner, who decides what to do with the blastocytes? (Remaining spouse or designated relative, if neither spouse is physically able to make the decision) And finally, in the event of a divorce, what would you like to have done to the frozen blastocytes? Up until that moment, the questions were simple. And the choices provided to us were obvious to us. But that last question ... that one stumped us. First of all, neither one of us could fathom not being married to one another ... especially at that moment, when we were over our heads in baby-making. And then the options? Woh. Talk about having to make major decision. We could either give that decision to one or the other. We could choose to have the remaining blastocytes destroyed. Or we could choose to donate them for research. These were one of those ethical issues. Those choices that had you literally deciding between life and death. Because even though I'm far from being a full-fledged, card-carrying Catholic "Right-To-Life"-er ... and even though science tells me that a blastocyte is technically not an embryo or even a fetus for that matter ... I believe that what is formed during conception (whether if it's "naturally" or through IVF) has the ability to become a life. Just for added emphasis, let me reiterate it again. I am a Pro-choice Catholic who's scientific reasoning believes that what is formed during conception ... even if it was created through IVF ... has the ability to become a life. How oxymoron-ish does that sound?! But I do believe that if any reasonable person thinks long and hard about everything involved in creating a life and the circumstances that surround the creation of a life (from love and sex ... all the way to rape and abuse) will feel the same way I do. And that's because when trying to create Hubby's and my biological child, we had to think long and hard about those decisions. And we had to make choices about what we'd want to do in any given situation. As difficult as it was and even though our IVF cycle did not result in a pregnancy ... what I was most grateful for when looking back at it now, was that we were given choices. Choices. In the midst of everything else that we had no control over. Choices during a situation in which it seems impossible to make decisions. Choices to do what we feel is best for us at that moment. Choices. So ultimately, with my election ballot in front of me ... during a time where it was not a life and death situation ... I chose to vote YES on Proposal 2. Because even though Hubby and I chose not to donate our one single blastocyte left over from our IVF cycle, I want other people going through IVF treatments to be able to have some sort of control ... a "choice", if you will ... to know that their donation will assist in the research that will benefit other people who absolutely have no control over their various health issues. And (even though I'm prepared to get H*LL for my vote) I'm happy that other 53% of Michigan voters voted the same way, too.

Wish ...

Emily — Mon, 10 Nov 2008 01:11:18 +0000

... Me Luck. Tomorrow's the big day. The interview. Yikes! A little nervous, and yet excited!!

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(Update 03.19.2009: Now that the cat's out of the bag, I can finally un-PWP this post!)

... By Step

Emily — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 01:05:34 +0000

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Okay, so since this post is already PWP ... I figured I'd share more frustrations with those that wish to read. So not this past Saturday, but the Saturday before ("Twenty four robbers came knocking at my door" ... oops. Sorry, couldn't resist ...) was my niece's baptism. It was a little difficult at first, and definitely awkward with my SIL pretty much all night long ... especially at the church, when we found out exactly who my niece's Godparents were. Let me preface this first by saying that my SIL is not known to have many close friends. (Shocker, I know!) Many of her prior friends she's either lost contact with OR she's personally written out of her life because they've done something that she's considered "unforgiveable." Quite frankly, I know that I'm the only one she "keeps" as a friend is because she has no choice but to do so ... what, with being married to her brother and all. And those people she still considers as friends are those that are either family or family friends who she and my Hubby grew up with. Given that information, it wasn't that hard to deduce that one of my niece's Godparents would be one of her cousins. And the other one? Well, let's just say my gut instinct was telling me it was one of those family friends. Specifically a family friend whom Hubby and I have been pretty close with over the past couple of years. Close enough to travel to San Diego this past July. Whereas other than family gatherings or outings arranged by either this friend or Hubby & me, she has not really had contact with ... never has made an effort to initiate plans with. So part of me wasn't surprised that she asked this particular family friend. And yet ... well, damn right it still hurt. Because she chose a person she knew would/could not say no to her. A person who she once again placed smack dab in the middle of this situation. I'm not angry that this friend of ours is now my niece's Godparent. I'm sure that he feels nothing but honored to be part of my niece's life. I'm more upset that my SIL has placed him in a situation where he now might feel he needs to "choose sides." And in no way or means will I make this friend of ours choose between us. Maybe I'm wrong for even having these thoughts. Maybe I'm just imagining all this crap in my mind. But it sure has been messing with my emotions once again. As evidenced by the multitude of tears that spilled during the 10-minute drive from the church to my in-laws house. Either way, I was just extremely relieved to have survived the night; survived the subsequent dinner party at my in-laws house following the baptism. I hope that one day I'll be able to forgive myself for having these thoughts. And even moreso, be able to forgive my SIL for all that she's done, or worse ... hasn't done. One step at a time ... I know. One. Step. At. A. Time.

Step ...

Emily — Tue, 11 Nov 2008 01:36:41 +0000

(Update 11.17.2008: I’ve decided to split up this post into two parts in order to allow for parts of this previously PWP post to be finally visible.)

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So today was the big day. The interview for that Out-of-State job I applied for. For the company that my former Director and now new VP of said company helped arrange for me. I must admit, I was perfectly calm heading into town, but the nerves got the best of me early this morning. I was freaking out, if I'm being completely honest. But reading all your words, and knowing that you guys were rooting for me ... and having Hubby there to help calm my nerves ... well, I took comfort in that. So thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. It turns out, I didn't need to be so worried. Not saying that I nailed the interview ... but let's just say that things ended up going real well. I was initially set up to interview for an RN Case Manager position, but as I expressed interest in a Supervisor position and the Manager that was interviewing saw I had supervisory experience ... well, she took it upon herself to interview me for both positions. and she set up another interview immediately afterwards with the Physician Medical Directors. Now ... that part made me a little nervous, but I think I managed to win them over. And it certainly helped that my ex-Director picked that moment to take a break from his schedule of meetings to stop in and say hi to me. Kissmet, I tell you! Anyway, I've been told that they want to set up one more interiew with me; with the Director of their department. Unfortunately, it will have to be at another date ... and could possibly be set up as a phone interview ... as she wasn't available today. So that's the next step in the process. And I'm expecting to hear about setting that up within the next couple of weeks. Until then, I'm in a holding pattern. But at least I can exhale for the time being. (See this next post for continuation of this original post …)

Bit O' Tears

Emily — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 02:11:36 +0000

Cutie Girl: "Mom, can we go over that girls' house?" FB Friend: "What girl?" Cutie Girl: "You know, that girl, my friend with the dog and the cats . . . she said I can come over anytime." FB Friend: "Well, I'm sure we'll have to see if it's okay with her mom"
- Posted on my Face.book Wall

Two Saturdays ago, we celebrated my niece's baptism with a party afterwards at my in-laws house. At that party was one of my Hubby's family friends and her 5 year old daughter. This little girl is so precocious; so bright that you can't help but be infected by her laughter, enthralled in conversation with her. This past weekend, her mom posted the above conversation on my Facebook wall. And I can't tell you how big my heart swelled when I read it. Wow, I thought. I must have made some sort of impression on Cutie Girl. That she would remember such a conversation that even I couldn't remember. (But then again, when don't little kids remember more details than adults?) And as I mentioned in previous posts, I've been spending a lot of time with my cousins. First, with my older cousin's wedding. And more recently, with my youngest cousin's cotillion. As family usually does when gathering together in such occassions, we began to reminisce on our youth; on growing up in our family. Two of my cousins, sisters about 6 and 8 years younger than I am, brought up how much they used to love staying at our house. They remembered all the times we'd play in our basement; me pulling them down the stairs in sleeping bags and all around the basement while pretending that they were on a roller coaster. They remember how I used to get them to do silly dance routines with me when I was 13 or 14 to great 80's songs like Wha.m's "Wake Me Up (Before You Go-Go)" and Rob Bas.e's "It Takes Two." And they remembered how, when I was in high school, I would teach them to sing Depec.he Mo.de songs in perfect harmony. The one comment that stuck with me was when one of them said to me, "You were my favorite cousin when I was a kid. You were always so much fun." On the drive home from our trip this past weekend, I couldn't help but put these two separate events together. And think, once again, how much I love kids ... how much I've always loved kids. And, while I don't mean to sound arrogant or proud, how good I am with them. How natural it was for me to be with them. And at that moment, I also couldn't help but think ... how f*cking ironic that I can't have any of my own; at least "naturally." As I told Hubby these thoughts, I also told him that the pain ... it doesn't hurt as much any more. This feeling of failure; of emptiness. This indescribable sadness. It's not as deep. But every once in awhile ... at moments like that, I can't help but spill a bit of tears.

Highlighting IF

Emily — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 00:31:21 +0000

Anybody else watch "Without A Trace" last night? It was interesting episode about a missing wife. Of course the first person they suspected was the husband. Apparently neighbors had mentioned to the investigators that the husband and wife were fighting often. So when they went to question the husband, he tells them the reason they've been arguing lately. When they first got married, they immediately started trying to start their family. In his words, he said he wasn't so worried at first; that things would happen in time. But after a year of trying, they still weren't pregnant. In the next scene, they show the husband coming into their bedroom all geared up and "ready to go" (if you catch my drift). Except the wife is getting ready for work instead. "Did I get my signals mixed?," he asks and then rattles off that he thought her temp had spiked, the LH was up and the fertility monitor said that all systems were go. When the wife turns to him, she has this incredibly sad look on her face and basically tells him that she has too much to do and so many deadlines to meet at work ... except that doesn't look like the reason she appears despondent. And of course the husband sits down next to her and hugs her; tells her that one of the things that they talked about was controlling and reducing their stress. And before I had the chance to get all pissed off about the whole "Just Relax" bit, the husband redeemed himself by saying to the investigators, "No one ever tells you how hard it is when you have problems making a baby." (Or something like that, anyway.) Well, the rest of the story was irrelevant (to me, anyway). We later find out that the wife was pregnant and had a baby in her teenage years. And that apparently she developed an infection in her ovaries that have now made her incapable of getting pregnant. Really, I was just incredibly surprised of the less than 2 minute period spotlighting infertility. And how "real" a condition this show made this couple's infertility. While I think they could have focused on the infertility aspect a little more ... I'm just happy that they did. Because I think it's important that there be more media attention on infertility and how it affects every aspect of a couple's life. What about you? Have you encountered any other shows or newspaper/magazine articles or movies that have approached the subject of infertility? And did you think they portrayed it in an appropriate way?

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Emily — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 02:19:04 +0000

Must See TV

Emily — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 02:20:39 +0000

Yes, this is one of those really quick posts. So I'm probably cheating on this whole "Post-A-Day" thingy. But I don't care. (Because ... shh ... I'll probably put up tomorrow's post much earlier than the usual!) I'm excited for "Must See TV" tonite. Because tonite ... Dr. Greene comes back to ER. Woo-hoo! Yeah, I know I'm cheesy like that. Truth be told, I haven't watched ER consistently in years. I personally think that once Anthony Edwards left the show, it just wasn't as good as in the beginning. I have fond memories of the first few years of ER. First of all, it's inaugural season started the same year that I graduated from nursing school. So watching a show that was seriously all that "and a bag of chips" as a medical drama was seriously cool. And second ... well, I've always had a crush on Ge.orge Cloo.ney since he was on "Facts of Life." And third, it was written and produced by author Michael Crich.ton (RIP :-( ). The show was SO good, that it was always THE topic at work the next day. And it was none of those silly sensationalized storylines that we see now on other medical shows (ahem ... Grey's). They were actually pretty accurate and the dialog was spot on.

Not that it's no longer like that now ... because it still is ... but there's just something about the original characters that made the show. And once they were all gone, the magic kinda left as well. So that's why I'm excited to see the "return" of one of the older characters tonite. And because this is the last season of ER, I hear there are supposed to be more "guest stars" throughout the season; culminating in a BIG (as in HUGE) series finale ... with all the originals, including George and Julianne Marguiles. At least that's what I'm hoping (and praying) for. Okay, that's it. 40 minutes to go. So I'm outta here!

"Fortune"-ate

Emily — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 09:38:56 +0000

(Update 03.19.2009: Now that the cat's out of the bag, I can finally un-PWP this post!)

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Focus on your long-term term goal. Good things will soon happen. - Fortune Cookie from Chinese Take-out (Last night's dinner, by the way ... )

Wow. I mean seriously. Wow. I'm still in a bit of shock over the news I received yesterday, and I'm still completely giddy with excitement.

Wednesday afternoon I received a call. From the HR person I've been dealing with. Unfortunately, I missed the call and by the time I realized it, it was way past the time for me to call back. So I had to wait until the morning to call. In the mean time, I was trying to send out my follow-up letters to both the HR person I finally met face to face this past Monday and the manager of the department I was interviewing in. So Wednesday night, I finished writing the letters and thought briefly about snail-mailing them out. But seeing as if I already received one call, I figured that I could send the letter by email instead ... at least for the time being. So about 11:30 pm that night, I shipped out both emails and thought nothing about it; hoping that the HR person would read it in the morning before I called him back. Five minutes later ... I receive a reply. From the manager that I interviewed with. At 11:30 pm EST. Which means it was still late evening where she was. Yikes ... I was totally not expecting that! But basically she said that it was nice meeting me too, and that I should contact the HR rep for "the next steps." So I'm thinking that perhaps the call is to set up an interview with the Director of the department for the supervisor position I also interviewed for. Or maybe I was going to be offered the Case Manager position instead; which would have been fine, but then I'd have been concerned about the salary and still having to make the move out of our state. Either way, I was prepared for the call. So yesterday morning, I call shortly after what I assume is the HR person's starting time and leave a message. And wait for about an hour. When HR guy finally calls, I'm taken completely by surprise. Because rather than calling to set up another interview, he's calling to offer me a position. The supervisor position. That's right ... the supervisor position! HOLY CRAP!! I GOT OFFERED THE JOB!!! Okay, so before I get too excited ... I still have to officially accept the position and the salary that's currently being negotiated (which are going good, by the way ...). And well, I still have to take the requisite drug screen (no poppy seeds for me). But ... HOLY CRAP!! I GOT OFFERED THE JOB!!! Okay, so now that I got that out of the way ... I can't believe how, thus far, things have been falling neatly into place. How finding out about my (now ex-) Director's move to a new company out of state coincided with a very emotionally difficult time in my life (read: niece's birth). How the opportunity to review my resume and forward it on spurred me to even contemplating such a move. How we got such an awesome deal on lodging that I didn't realize was right next to the building I'd be interviewing in. How, even though Hubby was sick over the weekend, that gave me the chance to rest up and relax before the big interview. How the manager I interviewed with happened to be Filipino. How her supervisor happened to be someone that shared my views about teamwork and leadership. And how my ex-Director picked the most opportune moment to peak in the meeting room just to say hi to me. Now, y'all know my stance with my Catholicism. I'm spiritual to a point, but then my scientific and logical reasoning takes over. But let me tell you ... right now, I believe that The Big Man Upstairs has been seriously watching over me. That He's felt my pain and frustration with everything I've been dealing with, that He's noticed all the anxiety and tears I've let loose. And that at this moment, when I just needed something to go my way for once, He's opened a few doors. And I am so grateful for this. By no means am I completely clear of any obstacles, though. There's still all the other logistics that need to be addressed. Selling our house in a depressed economy (this is metro-Detroit, after all ... the Motor City ain't doing so good right now). Finding a place to live in the mean time. Paying for both places until our house sells. All those logistics. Yes, I know I'm putting the cart in front of the horse right now. But haven't you noticed? It's in my nature to worry about these things. But I pray that these things go as smoothly as (knock on wood) things have been going thus far.

So again, if anybody has The Big Man Upstairs on their speed dial, would you mind continuing to put a good word in for me?

And now, if you'll excuse me ... I'm going to do the "Dance of Joy."

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfPg5LjGYz8&NR=1]_

(Update 03.19.2009: Now that the cat's out of the bag, I can finally un-PWP this post!)

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Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:04:14 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:11:54 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:13:15 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:27:32 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:32:18 +0000

Double ... Oh My!

Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 18:38:36 +0000

: My heart's a-thumpin'

I have a thing for actors. That and rock stars, but that's another story. I'm definitely more of a tall, dark and handsome type of gal, and the more interesting (and diverse) roles they play, the sexier I think they are. Which is why I have this (almost unhealthy) obsession with Joh.nny De.pp. I've always had a thing for him, even back in his "Elm Street" and "Jump Street" days.

Which is why it makes almost no sense that I found myself having a "crush" on Da.niel Cr.aig. Before his take as James B.ond, I have never really taken notice of him. And truth be told, I had my reservations of have a blond hair / blue-eyed man playing 007. Because to me, Pie.rce Bro.snan (even back in his "Remin.gton Ste.ele" days) was always who I visualized as the penultimate Bond. (Ask my parents though, and they'd probably say Sean Conn.ery.) But then I saw "Casino R.oyal.e" and some of it's steamy scenes. And yeah, I blushed.

: Double Oh Sexy

So it's no surprise that Hubby & I ran out to see the latest Bond flick. And I certainly was not disappointed. Even moreso, Hubby wasn't disappointed either.

Okay, so that last statement sounded weird, but seriously ... it was more because of the latest Bond girl, Ol.ga Kur.yle.nko. Who, I even admit, is pretty d*mn sexy. Of course, I'm sure it's more because of the character she plays in this film. A beautiful girl with matching smart and wit about her; a girl with a mission in mind. Basically, she's a female version of 007 but with a more shapely body.

I knew when Olga first came on the screen that Hubby thought she was attractive. Because just as I know him very well, I also know his "type." Just like I know Jes.sica Al.ba is also his type. And just like he knows that Joh.nny De.pp is mine. Yeah ... we're that comfortable with each other. And that secure in our relationship. And amongst everything else that seems to be in such a state of flux, it's wonderful knowing that my relationship with Hubby is the one constant (yet ever-evolving) thing in my life.

Okay, so with that said ... remember that one "Frie.nds" episode? The one with the "list" of five celebrity people that a person could sleep with without it considered cheating? If given the opportunity?

Obviously Joh.nny De.pp and Da.niel Cr.aig are on mine. Along with Dwa.yne "The R.ock" Joh.nson. And Micha.el Hu.tchence (if he were still alive, sigh ...). Oh, and probably Gra.nt Hill (ex-Pist.ons, now Phx Suns basketball player). Hey ... what can I say? My tastes are diverse!

[polldaddy poll=1109642]

And Jes.sica Al.ba and now Ol.ga Kur.yle.nko are on my Hubby's list. Probably alongside Ang.elina J.olie and Gw.yneth Pa.ltrow. Probably Gw.en Stef.ani, too. Although really ... his tastes don't usually fall towards blonds. He's really more about smart and sexy women than he is all about the looks.

So ... now I pose the question to you ... who's on your celebrity list?

And better yet ... who do you think is on your Hubby's / S.O.'s list?

Most importantly ... which one do you think is the sexier B.ond?

Okay ... seriously must counteract that awful picture above .... how about this one?

Mmmm .... Oh yes. Definitely better ...

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Emily — Sat, 15 Nov 2008 20:43:52 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 04:59:29 +0000

Show and Tell: That "Just Married" Look

Emily — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 05:07:19 +0000

Wow. I seriously can't believe I've made it through half the month for NaBloPoMo. It seems like a week in, I was already struggling to find stuff interesting stuff to post about. And now ... I've reached the halfway point. So today, I decided to share a picture of Hubby and I on our honeymoon. And based on the picture, where do you think we went? Hmmm .... jackets and sweatshirts, cuddling close to each other. Probably some place pretty cool in climate, eh? Maybe hiking in one of the state parks in Washington ... or perhaps Alaska even?

Nope. Hubby and I went to Hawaii. Yep, if you could only pan out a little further in this picture, you'd see that we're both wearing our Doc Marten sandals with no socks ... and completely freezing our tushies off. That's because we made the trek up Mt. Haleakala on the island of Maui, just to watch the sun rise over the summit of this dormant volcano. To put it in words would be near impossible. Just know that it was simply gorgeous. But back to the picture. Can't you tell how incredibly happy we are? By then we would have been married 9 days (even though the date displayed one day ahead .... what can I say? This was pre-digital!) and this would have been the second to the last day of our honeymoon. To say that we enjoyed our trip would be an understatement. We started out in the island of Kauai, which was absolutely perfect for us to unwind from all of the wedding events. You see, Kauai is more of a quiet island (as compared to Oahu or Maui). Not too much going on throughout the island, but lots of beautiful scenery. We stayed at the Hyatt in Poipu, which is the southernmost city of the island. And we were absolutely spoiled rotten there. The oceanfront view, the beautiful gardens on the property, the multiple swimming pools and lagoons, and the incredible daily brunch spread that, to this day ... cannot compare to any other brunch we've had. We took a raft up the Na Pali Coast and snorkeled at one of the isolated beaches. We drove up to Waimea Canyon and met a orange tabby cat named Simba, who was adopted by the vendors in the area. Oh, and we went on a helicopter ride, where ... because of the extreme motion sickness I experienced ... I realized it was not my life's ambition to be a pilot. Although, what I do remember was beautiful. In all, we spent about 6 days on this island, relaxing and basking in our newlywed state. Then it was off to Maui, which after spending almost a week in "seclusion," seemed like a major metropolis as compared to Kauai. It was definitely an island with many more sites and activities. Oh, and lots of shopping too! We stayed at the Embassy Suites in Ka'anapali, which is on the northwesternmost part of the island. In order to get there, we drove through Lahaina, which was, at one time, the center of the world's whaling industry with ships from around the globe docking at this port. This has certainly made Lahaina the "seaport" village that it has become; lots of storefronts and boutique shops line its streets. Along with the aforementioned 2:00 am drive up to the "House of the Sun" to watch the sun rise, we also made another beautiful day trip to the east side of the island. Which, if you've ever been to Maui ... it's almost like being on a completely different island. Where the west side is more arid and dry, the east side is more lush and green. The highway to the east is widely known as the "Road to Hana" and it's a wondrously windy road with more than 50 bridges, many of which are only one lane. Along the way, we passed by numerous waterfalls; some of which we were actually able to swim under. And at the end of our journey, we reached the "Seven Sacred Pools," which are actually a series (of more than seven, may I add) of pools formed by cascading waterfalls that literally tumble into the ocean. It was stunningly beautiful. By the end of the 11 days we spent in Hawaii, we were well rested and ready to start our lives as newlyweds. What we absolutely loved best about our honeymoon was that we were there together, exploring a place where neither of us had ever been before. On our very own. With no timetable or schedule to go by. And to this day, this was one of our most favorite (if not the favorite) vacations of all time. Unfortunately, all my honeymoon photos have not caught up with the digital age at this time. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to scan them in. Until then, I'll just have to enjoy the beautiful picture of us up in the "House of Sun." Now; make sure you go and check out everyone else's Show and Tell posts!

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Emily — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 03:44:57 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 03:57:30 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 04:07:06 +0000

Dim Sum of Nuttin'

Emily — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 10:13:30 +0000

Ack. So I've been doing good in the blog posting lately ... I still can't believe I've done a post a day for now 17 days. Actually more, as I posted a few a day before the month officially began. But in the process I've neglected posting comments. And that's really because I haven't honestly been reading so much lately. In fact, my Flock reader bar has filled up to more feeds than I can possibly read in one setting. D*mn. And I had been doing so well for a while. [caption id="attachment_990" align="alignleft" width="164" caption="Brother & Sister"][/caption] Seriously though. Where the heck did the month go? I still can't believe that a week from this Thursday is officially Thanksgiving. Which, of course means that the Holiday season is literally around the corner. Except, I swear the stores seem to think it's in full swing. And let me tell you, hearing the holiday music all over the frickin' place is annoying. Worse even is that it's only mid-November and there's snow on the ground. Well at least there was early this morning. Ugh. This is Michigan ... which, unless Mother Nature plays another trick on us, means that we'll be seeing snow until early April. That's five months of seeing snow. Almost half a year. Ugh. It's not that I don't like snow. It's pretty to look at, pretty to play in ... totally sucks to clean up after, drive in, deal with stupid drivers and salt trucks. But hey ... this is life in the Great Lakes state. Moving on to something else ... Hubby was asked by our nephew to be his confirmation sponsor. So today, we went to mass at our nephew's church where they asked the candidates and their sponsor to commit to this Catholic sacrament's process. Afterwards, we had gone out for some dim sum at a local Chinese restaurant. Lots of yummy dumplings and noodles later ... Hubby & I were sitting around holding our niece, who amazingly slept all throughout mass and pretty much all through lunch. But alas, she open her little eyes to us and was being her utterly adorable self.

If I could only find a way to duplicate her and take her twin home with me ...

Okay, this is all I can manage for today. Until tomorrow ...

Accepted

Emily — Tue, 18 Nov 2008 09:30:47 +0000

(Update 03.19.2009: Now that the cat's out of the bag, I can finally un-PWP this post!)

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Well ... it's official. I accepted the supervisor position. And at close to the salary I wanted with an added sign-on bonus, too. BONUS!!!

So all that's left is to complete the drug screen and the background check. And apply for this state's RN license. And find a place to live. At least those are the most immediate things I need to do. Before my start date which is unofficially January 5th. I finally told my parents last night. And amazingly, they took it pretty well. I think deep down they knew that there just seemed to be something missing in our life. And as wonderful as our marriage was, we just didn't seem to be happy. So I think that when I told them how this whole opportunity just seemed to be calling out to us, I think that sold them on the idea. I probably won't tell my current employer until I get the official notice; which should happen after the drug screen and background check are completed. But in the mean time ... since you guys have been so incredibly awesome and patient with me, the least I can do is tell you where we'll officially be moving. Unfortunately, Kara ... it's not California, although it would have been awesome to move out that way. I can tell you that perhaps one day we will move out further west; as that would be both Hubby & my dream to live close to the Pacific. And no, Pam ... it's not Minnesota either. Or Indiana, Io. But where I'll be will definitely be a closer drive for all of us to visit each other. Yes, Hubby & I will still be in the Midwest ... Chicago, to be exact. It's a city that Hubby & I have always talked about moving to, even back in our college days. Except the opportunity just never seemed to surface. And then any chance of moving stalled once we took the journey down the infertility road. Because starting our family became our priority. Now, it appears that this city is calling to us again. And lately, all the signs have been pointing us to that direction. And I am So. Frickin. Excited!!

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Emily — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 02:38:32 +0000

Flying High

Emily — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 09:20:30 +0000

I am totally on cloud nine right now. The events over the past week and the reality that's about to come has got me flying high. I wish I could un-PWP those specific posts that can better explain the reason for such emotions. Unfortunately there are those certain aspects of our lives that won't exactly allow us to shout it from the rooftops. At least for now. In any case, this news has definitely added a skip to my step, a slight upturn to my lips ... a light at the end of a really long and dark tunnel. For once in a very long time, this change in tides just feels right. After years of banging my head up against a brick wall ... of going through doors that seem to lead to nowhere ... this path finally seemed to be the correct one. And the doors? They have amazingly been opening up all on their own. What a relief after years of struggling to open one door just to face the next locked door. But I'm not taking anything for granted. I am truly relishing this moment. Because I know that moments like this are few and far between. Truth be told, the last time I've felt this excited ... and full of optimism ... was the two years before and the two years after our wedding. And that was more than ten years ago. (Wow. I just realize that it's been that long ...) Not that we haven't had great times and haven't formed a multitude of incredible memories and experiences ... it's just that we haven't had that "anything is possible" feeling since then. And especially since boarding that roller coaster ride called "Infertility." Because really, there's only so much "impossibility" (read: hopelessness, aka BFN ... as in "Big Fat Negative" pregnancy test) that one can take. Which is why I know not to take anything for granted. Seeing as I know that, even though at this very moment these doors are unlocked ... it only takes a second for them to slam shut and to once again be dead-bolted.

So I'm going to relish this "high" for as long as I possibly can.

[caption id="attachment_1043" align="aligncenter" width="405" caption="Jumping for Joy in Las Vegas at The Beatles "Love" Cirque Du Soleil"][/caption]

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Emily — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 14:55:24 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 14:57:17 +0000

Don't Stop Believing

Emily — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 15:02:59 +0000

Last night Hubby & I were "hangin'" at the local coffee house, both of us on our laptops. Well ... actually, Hubby was working while I just putzed around. And really, I should have been finishing up on the "quickie" knit project I've been working on for the past two weeks (so much for quick!). Or I could have been catching up on some much needed blog reading. But instead I surfed the web. And listened to some tunes off of Hubby's laptop. I guess I should preface this by saying that I usually rely on Hubby to update my iPod. He's the one who uploaded most our songs from our CD collection into our digital library. He's usually the one to find new artists and songs on the web for us. If there's a certain tune I'm itching to hear, he's the one that finds it and uploads it on my iPod. Many times when I stick my earbuds on at work (to drown out those loud co-workers while trying to concentrate), I end up finding little gems on my iPod. For example, one week I had this incredible urge to hear that one Jo.an Je.tt song from that one movie she was in with Mi.chael J. Fox, but for the life of me I couldn't remember the name of the song, let alone the name of the movie. (Oh yeah, I can hear y'all trying to remember it now, too ... ) The next day at work, what do I find on my iPod? Uh-huh ... He's such a great guy, isn't he?! I think so. Anyway, lately Hubby's been on an "Under $5" deal at the iTunes store, where you can purchase either movies or albums online for $4.99. Last week he got some great 80's movies to watch on our iTouch. And this week? Well ... that's what we were listening to last night; the "Escape" album from Journey. "Just a city boy, born and raised in south Detroit" ... Listening to it is totally flashing me back to growing up in the 'burbs of Detroit back in the early 80's. I was telling Hubby that I remember that this particular album was one of those "tapes" that Dr. Bro bought during his one "stint" at the whole Co.lumb.ia H.ouse "Eight Tapes for a Penny" deals; the expensive shipping cost paid for by mowing neighbors' lawns and saving his weekly allowances. So listening to the whole album in it's entirety is like stepping back to the summers where Dr. Bro and I would ride around our neighborhood with our "bike gang." And summers with swimming lessons at the local middle school. When celebrating my mid-summer birthday meant either camping out of town or heading down to the county "wave pool." Where summers were spent earning money by babysitting the neighborhood kids. Of which were eventually spent at the local B. Dalton's buying books ... and then reading them late at night under the covers with the flashlight. [caption id="" align="alignleft" width="260" caption="The "Bike Gang" "][/caption] Those days seem like such a lifetime away; even though it was only 25 years ago during this lifetime. It was a time of naivety; a time of feeling care-free. Especially during summers which, in it's own, was a time of freedom. No timetable to conform to, no expectations to finish homework. Referring back to yesterday's post ... it was simply a time of feeling as if anything was possible. As if the whole future was yet to be discovered. As if believing in any dream made could actually come true. I miss those days. I miss not having to conform to a daily routine. And I miss not having expectations of others; and others not having expectations of me. I miss that feeling of the future being so far ahead of us ... slightly out of reach, but still within the realm of reality. Still believing that anything is possible. There are some days that I truly wish I could go back to that moment and relive it with the knowledge I have now. But then I remember that the choices and decisions I've made are what has made me into the person I am today. Bruised and a bit broken ... but otherwise ready to face yet another challenge. Especially now that I've got that "second chance" I've been waiting for so long. Journey was right not to stop believing.

To Whom It May Concern

Emily — Fri, 21 Nov 2008 10:32:12 +0000

I am getting sick again. Grr. It started Wednesday morning at work, when I felt the congestion in my nose and the pressure in my sinuses, along with the drainage in the back of my throat. Then late in the afternoon I started to get the achy feeling in my shoulders. And then the coughing began later in the evening, along with the congested chest. Yesterday morning ... on my day off, nonetheless ... I felt like crap. I barely had the energy to get out of bed and leave the cats that were snuggling up next to me. But I had some errands to do in relation the the upcoming change in employment. So around 12:30, I dragged myself out of bed to take a shower. And promptly took another half hour break afterwards, because I was so pooped out. And finally around 2 pm I made it out the door. The first step was to head to my "magic pill" doctor. I needed to pick up a letter that explained the reason why I might have certain medications in my system. Because the next stop I had to make was to the local clinic for a pre-employment drug screen. Turns out I didn't need the letter just yet, as it was up to the employer to contact me directly if they had any questions or concerns. Plus, the medical assistant at the clinic told me that her sister who has been on anti-depressants never got contacted by her employer when having to do her pre-employment drug screen. So hopefully I won't get contacted. For those family or friends (and even my bloggie friends) who didn't know, I've been on antidepressants since right about the time I found out about the first of my SIL's two pregnancies within a year. It's taken about two years, but I think that Dr. Magic Pill finally found the right combination and dosage of meds to keep my brain chemicals better controlled. It honestly did not help that there were so many things that happened within the past two years that have kept me from progressing forward. Any time I fought to climb up that slippery slope, there seemed to be some sort of event that would cause me to slide back down. Tom Cruise/Scientology aside, the Catholic Filipino-American in me had a hard time accepting that I needed to take medication to help me both emotionally and physically. However, the more I wasn't able to keep "rolling with the punches," the more I knew I needed the assistance of "modern chemistry." And as frustrating as it was to "trust" that the medications would eventually work, I'm glad I chose to take the "medicated" route. Because it's only been over the past month or so that I've finally felt a little less heaviness in my chest. Where I can finally feel a little bit of my old self coming back. Finally. And as incredibly grateful I am for the most recent and upcoming changes in my life, I honestly can't see being able to manage these major changes without the added help. Anyway ... Although I knew that this new company would required a drug screen prior to officially hiring me, I didn't think about the fact that I had been on these medications, as well as an "as needed" anti-anxiety medication to take prior to those moments I might find extra difficult. But as a recommendation from my therapist, I called Dr. Magic Pill and asked for that letter. So on the way to the clinic, I glanced down at the plain white envelope addressed to me and wondered exactly why it was actually sealed shut. Realistically I knew it was for privacy practices, but that didn't stop my mind from thinking all sorts of weird thing. Like maybe I shouldn't be opening it until I needed to present it to the person taking the drug sample. Or that it needed to stay sealed for "privacy purposes" until I'm asked for it. Weird, muddled thoughts like that. I opened the letter the minute I parked in the clinic's lot. "To Whom it May Concern," it started. And in two short sentences, it summarized the reason why I was on these certain medications. I was rather disappointed, to tell you the truth. I don't know what I was expecting, but it just seemed strange to summarize the last two years of my life in two sentences. While direct and to the point, I thought perhaps maybe there would be more to what I was going through. Because it sure did feel like I went through a lot more than just two sentences. In any case, even though I don't know when or if my new employer will ask for a copy of this letter ... I do know that it may still be a very useful letter in the future. Perhaps there may be a time, not exactly in the nearest possible future, where it may come in handy. Like ... maybe when I have enough strength to start my family. But like I said ... that time is not exactly now.

Love Actually

Emily — Sat, 22 Nov 2008 12:15:12 +0000

I'm in the midst of finally catching up on much blog reading, after having called in sick yesterday. That cold turned out to be another bout of bronchitis, methinks. I'm actually down to some 20 more posts I need to read (most of which are yours, Pam ... sorry! I just thoroughly enjoy reading your posts leisurely, as they are so poignant and beautiful). And as Hubby (who coincidentally was working at home yesterday) and I flipped through the channels last night, we stumbled on the movie "Love Actually." Perfect, both of us thought. As coincidentally we had talked about when we should watch that movie this year. It's been a yearly tradition for us to watch it around the holidays, as it's listed as one of my most favorite movies of all time. I love that it's a myriad of different love stories that are weaved together, almost seemingly. And that it isn't just the typical romance love story centered around the holidays. It's certainly is a story about love during the holidays ... but a variety of different loves. From unrequited love, to love lost, to love despite language barriers, to the love of friends and family. The reason I love to watch this movie around the holidays is not only because it manages to get the childless infertile me into the holiday spirit, but it manages to remind me about what love is supposed to be about. Not the romanticized version of it ... not the one where a person wakes up and suddenly realizes that they can't live without the other. Or the one where the two stars ... despite the all that happens throughout the movie ... finally get together in the end. The love that this movie reminds me about is the every day kind of love. The love that endures the hardship and pain. The love that survives despite the every day things. And the not so every day things. And for me, this movie reminds me about the kind of love that can survive infertility.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33eL1hG5IeU]

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Emily — Sun, 23 Nov 2008 04:12:48 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 23 Nov 2008 04:14:59 +0000

Show and Tell: Ring Exchange

Emily — Sun, 23 Nov 2008 04:18:21 +0000

Ugh. This ... whatever it is, is kicking my butt. Instead of feeling better, after two days I'm feeling worse. Methinks I need to hit my primary doc's office tomorrow. Anyhoo ... Today's Show and Tell item is a photo from my cousin's wedding in London, Ontario this past October. The ceremony was held at the Chapel at Windermere on the Mount, which is a retirement residence not far from the University of Western Ontario. However, prior to becoming this the place was once an all-girls Catholic school, serving also as the convent for the Sisters of St. Joseph. And prior to THAT, the location was actually the Motherhouse for the London Diocese since the mid 1800's and also served as an orphanage. [caption id="attachment_1070" align="alignleft" width="244" caption="I love digital cameras with zoom ..."][/caption] The current chapel was built in 1953 and the decor clearly reflects this. Lots of stained glass, lots of nouveau Art Deco pieces. Oh, and lots of gorgeous tile work and woodwork, too. But what was most beautiful about the chapel, in my humble opinion, was exactly how the sun hit the the center of the altar at a particular time. At my cousin's wedding , the sun decided to shine as the wedding rings were exchanged. Lucky for me, I was able to capture it on film. Well, kiddies. I think that's it for this episode of Show and Tell. If I were feeling a little better, I might have been inclined to show you more. But alas ... these cold medicines have been fogging up my brain. Make sure you check out the other Show and Tell blogs this week!

cremedelacremeused

Emily — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 03:15:15 +0000

Short Week

Emily — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 10:29:15 +0000

Well ... after three days of not leaving the house (and changing out of my pajamas only so I can answer the front door when the pizza delivery guy came), it's time for me to go back to work. I'm still not feeling a 100% better, but at least I can stay upright and not be short of breath for more than 15 minutes at a time. I am still planning on heading to my primary doc's office today (if I can get an appointment), just to make sure that I don't need antibiotics or something. What sucks the most is that my diaphragm and abdominal muscles hurt so d*mn much from coughing ... and I still don't feel as if I've been able to get the gunky stuff out from my lungs. So I guess worse case scenario is that I've got reaallly bad bronchitis or early pneumonia. Let's hope it's not the latter. The good thing about this week is that it's a short work week. And that's meant both in number of days worked and number of hours. We get Thanksgiving and the day after off (woo-hoo!) as paid company holidays. And since I my normal work week consists of four 10-hour work days, on paid holiday weeks we're only required to work 8-hr days so the pay equals out. It kinda reminds me of having half-day school days just before the beginning of (in this case) Thanksgiving break. But without the science project or History report that's due the following Monday after break. (Thank goodness!) And seeing that next Monday will be December 1st (yeah, I know ... can you believe it?!), I will be extra happy. Because this means I would have survived NaBloPoMo! One more week. One more week ... {mutters Emily, under her breath}

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Emily — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 11:38:56 +0000

Two Cokes ...

Emily — Tue, 25 Nov 2008 11:40:59 +0000

... after 10:00 pm is never a good idea. And I know that, yet I still drank them. Grrr. Last night, Hubby & I had the pleasure of dining at one of our favorite bars/restaurants with one of our good friends. And because it had already been a long day, I needed a little caffeine boost. Not to mention that it helped that tickle in the back of my throat. When getting home, I knew that I would crash easily. What I didn't expect was to wake up at 4:45-ish and toss and turn. Of course, it really could be that I have a lot on my mind right now. Especially with the new job starting in (OMG!!!) about 6 weeks. Or it could just be that I'm still not feeling as great as I could be. But at least now I'm being properly behind-the-counter medicated (read: prescription antibiotic and expectorant). Oh yeah ... so the good news from El Doc is that it's not pneumonia. (Whew!) But if I don't get that gunk out of my upper chest and sinuses ... it could quickly turn into it. (Crap!) So yeah. It's official. I do indeed have snot for brains (and apparently for lungs as well) ... ! Now if you excuse me, I must find my next caffeine buzz. And so the vicious caffeine cycle begins ...

Cat Outta Here!!

Emily — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 09:06:27 +0000

Well ... apparently, abstaining from all those lemon poppyseed muffins for three months was a good thing. Because YAY! I passed my pre-employment drug screen. As if there was any doubt ... well, except maybe for the other prescription meds I've been on (good thing I didn't need that letter). And okay, those two Cokes I had last night ... (tee-hee!) I haven't told any of my co-workers (except for the three I trust the most) that I'm leaving. And that's mainly because I wanted to make sure I passed the drug test and the background investigation. Apparently, I should be hearing sometime next week that all is okay. So chances are, the big news will be revealed within the next two weeks. Late Monday, my supervisor asked me if she could fill our manager in on my impending leave. She was the only leadership person I told, because I fully expected that she'd be getting a call to confirm my employment and ask how I am as one of her direct reports. I just didn't want her to be blindsided when that phone call came. Anyhoo ... the reason my supervisor asked for my permission is because they wanted to try to get the "OK" from the higher powers that be to fill my position a soon as possible. I told her that it was okay to do so and pushed the thought to the back of my head. So yesterday, as I'm working furiously at my desk ... I suddenly feel this presence over me. And the thing is ... I knew who it was before I even turned around. And sure enough, as I swiveled my chair counterclockwise, I'm suddenly facing the VP of our department. The same VP that I have been working closely with on this Process Improvement Workgroup. The same one who asked me personally to reconsider the decision I made to not be part of the workgroup for the second phase. As I looked up at her face, I saw this very ... concerned (for lack of better word) look on her face. And I knew at the moment that the cat was let out of the bag. Since I didn't want anyone around us to hear the inevitable conversation, I dragged her into one of the small conference rooms on our floor. As we sat down, she told me that she received an interesting email from my manager about my impending resignation. She wanted to know if it were indeed true ... and if the reason I was leaving was because of this job and, in particular, the stress that I had endured while being part of this Process Improvement Workgroup. So I told her the story. About how this job opportunity came out of the blue. And how it was the perfect time and the right set of circumstances in our lives to make these changes that Hubby & I have been longing to do. And how as the events started to unfold right into our laps, it appeared that this was the natural direction our life would take us on. And I also told her that no, I wasn't leaving this company because of the stressor of my current responsibilities. How, if anything I would love to see the things I've implemented on this workgroup progress forward. But how could I not follow my instincts? How could I not take this shot at a new path in life? And my VP was very understanding; expressed happiness for Hubby & me. And she graciously wished us the best of success in my new position. So there you have it ... one of the bigger cats are out of the bag now. All is left is to confirm that I am, indeed a good upstanding citizen. Which, I supposed could be harder then we both might think ...

Kitten It Just Right

Emily — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 09:08:19 +0000

So I bet you're wondering why I'm still purposefully being vague on my blog about the big move out of state. To Chicago, to be exact. Well, this here is the reason: While I'll be starting my new job in January, Hubby will still be working in Michigan. At least until February when (cross your fingers) he'll be able to get his company profit bonus (if there is one this year ... see?! Told you those fingers needed crossing!) that he has so rightly earned. Hubby hasn't told anyone at work just yet, as he's (justifiably) nervous about the reactions he might get; especially in the line of work that he does. (He's a graphic designer / art director for a small Ad agency.) SO ... until he's told his current employer, I've been keeping the Out-of-State move under wraps. And I'll kindly ask that you do the same by not mentioning in non-PWP posted comments. But as always, anything you comment on a PWP post is only visible to those that have the password. Thank you SO much!!

Fleas On My Dog

Emily — Thu, 27 Nov 2008 13:46:21 +0000

No ... there are no fleas on my puppy-girl, Kozzy. Actually, this is the way that my co-worker sings the Christmas carol, "Feliz Navidad."

"Ah ... now I get it," I can hear y'all chuckling. But what does this Christmas carol have to do about Thanksgiving ... other than the fact that today (or tomorrow, how ever you want to look at it) is the "official start" of the Holiday season?

Well, funny you should ask. Last year at this time Hubby & I, along with my parents, were on a Caribbean Cruise. One of the days was spent in Cozumel, Mexico where, as we stepped off the "boat" all I could hear throughout the plaza was that Christmas carol. And just the thought of hearing a Mexican Christmas Carol while in Mexico ... it just had me in hysterics.

Anyway.

It's about 8:00 am on Thanksgiving morning. Hubby's getting some much needed sleep in the bedroom while I'm on the couch typing away on my lappie. I'm still getting these horrible coughing fits, but for the most part I'm feeling much better. Although, I have this feeling I'll be losing my voice by the end of the day today. Damn sore throat.

Plans for today include lunch with my parents after the traditional Filipino Thanksgiving Mass. My parents asked us if we were going to attend; in which I promptly said that this morning was the only opportunity for us to unwind before another busy weekend. Which, in a sense, is the plain truth. But I also just honestly don't feel like having to deal with the inevitable social conversations that involve Filipino acquaintances commenting on our child-less status. Seriously, there's only so much of this an infertile can take ... even if it's been more than ten years! But seriously, it should be a nice sit-down lunch with my parents at the local Italian restaurant.

What?! Did you just say restaurant?!

Mmhmm. Yes. Emily, with or without the apron strings, is not exactly that great of a cook. And quite frankly, while I can do a turkey dinner, it just doesn't seem to make much sense to do so when it's only going to be the four of us. Oh, I suppose I could invite Hubby's family and the other members of my side of the family ... but then that would mean 20+ people in our home which, at most is only comfortable to fit five around the table. So yes ... turkey lunch at a restaurant with my parents.

But don't you worry, we'll still have the traditional turkey fixin's. At Hubby's parents house. Later tonite. Where YAY! I get to see my nephew and niece. And BOO! Might not get to hold niece because of being a bad sicko.

So overall, busy day. But one that will be spent with family. After all ... isn't that what holidays are about?

Oh, and technically this is also supposed to be the day to express gratitude ... so, without further ado ...

Things to be extra-thankful of this year:

An incredible husband who takes care of me when I'm sick (and we're talking both physically and emotionally), and who has been my rock for the past 12 years.
Loving and supportive parents who understand the reason for upcoming changes
IRL friends and co-workers (not to mention bosses) that have also been supportive and excited for my upcoming change in employment
Extra-wonderful pets ... who have no idea what changes are store for all of us, but who are always willing to snuggle with me and give me some furbaby love
An incredible online group of friends who have weathered with me during some of THE MOST difficult times in my life over the past year
And last but certainly not least,
God for giving me back a little bit of faith in this world. That somehow when one door closes ... another door opens. Even though it might not be the door that you were hoping would open.

Happy Thanksgiving, Blogland!!

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Emily — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 02:17:18 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 02:25:28 +0000

Trip-Toe-Fan

Emily — Fri, 28 Nov 2008 10:30:55 +0000

That's it. I'm officially on a Tryptophan trip. I've eaten enough turkey last night to hibernate for the rest of winter. [caption id="attachment_1094" align="alignleft" width="242" caption="J + J = Just Jidding!!"][/caption] The turkey we had at my in-laws house last night was delish. I think what made it more tasty was the fact that the Thanksgiving lunch we had didn't exactly have "freshly carved" turkey. But the company at the restaurant was worth any time spent there. My 18-year old cousin, the one that recently had her cotillion, was there along with my parents and our other aunt's (by marriage) mother. Unfortunately, my cousin's mom and our shared uncle and his wife (said aunt previously mentioned) weren't able to make it as they were all working. Let me tell you. The fact that both my aunts still work as nurses in the "trenches" (read: bedside nursing) after more than thirty years is f*cking amazing and I'm so proud that they still do it. Because I sure as h*ll couldn't do it anymore. But I digress ... It was just a great time, eating and talking, and watching the Lions lose (no shock there) at the restaurant. Which was then followed by going over my parents house to look at some of their recent pictures from their vacation in Greece and Turkey. Believe me, the irony that we were looking at pictures of Turkey on Turkey Day was not lost on all ... well, at least me anyway. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="273" caption="Being sandwiched in a "manly" iPhotoBooth pic "][/caption] After that, it was a quick drive to our house, to pick up our Wii and other fun things and then it was off to the in-laws where we devoured that delicious turkey, watched the second Hulk movie with the boys (which included Hubby's four younger cousins and our nephew), and finally played Rock Band and Wii Sports for the rest of the night. Overall it was a wonderful day. The best moments of which were:

Sleeping in this morning and subsequently snuzzling next to Hubby.
Taking silly pictures and playing iTouch Air Hockey and Hangman with my cousin on the couch at my childhood house.
Sitting in my nephew's room surrounded by all boys; three of which decided at one time or the other to snuggle up next to me.

Those moments ... those snippets in time ... they're the ones that make the holidays memorable.

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Emily — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 06:17:50 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 06:35:31 +0000

Show and Tell: Little Piggies

Emily — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 09:30:12 +0000

I decided to post my Show and Tell post today instead of tomorrow; mainly because I knew that I'd be seriously busy this weekend. We're in Chicago again this weekend, which means yet another week of not having done laundry. Yeah, I know. I suck. I just haven't been feeling so hot lately. Tired, really. But I digress. Getting back to Show and Tell ... Since this past weekend was the "Stuff your face" type of holiday, where it's expected that you eat tons of food, I thought I'd share with you a picture of the pigs I had as pets growing up. Ha ha ... get it? Pigs?! (Okay I'm trying not to be lame ...) Except they're not those kind of pigs. They were the guinea pig variety. And they were so adorable!! Meet Flaffy and Fluffy. The short-haired American Guinea pigs that Dr. Bro and I got when we were about 8 and 10 years old. [caption id="attachment_1101" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="By the way ... that's ME in the pink sleeper PJ's. And YES, they have footies!"][/caption]

You see, Flaffy and Fluffy were the family pets that were supposed to take the place of the dog that Dr. Bro and I always wanted. We were constantly reminded by our Dad that he was allergic to dogs, so we could never have one.

Flaffy, the predominantly white one, was mine. While Fluffy, the brown one was Dr. Bro's. And yes, they were as cute as they look in the picture. And amazingly very cuddly, too. They loved to just sit on our laps, while munching on some fresh lettuce. Sadly, Flaffy and Fluffy met an untimely death about two years later. A story that I'll probably share in another post. Let's just say that shortly after their passing and subsequent funeral in our backyard, our family dog, Muffin came into our lives. So that's my Show and Tell story for the week. Make sure you check out all the other Show and Tell blogs here!

An Apron Strings First!

Emily — Sun, 30 Nov 2008 12:36:53 +0000

[caption id="attachment_1105" align="alignleft" width="187" caption="My 1st Badge of Honor"][/caption] Oh. Em. Gee. I can't believe it ... I actually got my first badge of honor! Thanks, WiseGuy, for first of all reading my ramblings. And second, for thinking that it's worth any type of recognition. I am so appreciative of being the recipient of such an award! And now, hmmmm ... who should I pass this on to? Wow. Way too many great bloggers out there to narrow it down. But alas, I must choose only seven of them. So without further ado and in no particular order (goodness, I sound like I should be announcing the Oscar nominees) ... The List of Honorees:

Kara at Becoming Parents: Even before I met her IRL, I knew she was one cool chick!
Kate at Bee in the Bonnet: It's so wonderful to know that I am not the only one who loves to ramble on and on ...
Io at Who Shot My Stork?: Who wouldn't want to read a blog with that title?! This girl always makes me smile, and she just rocks!
Pam at Blood Signs: Her writing has this way of lingering in my thoughts for days after first reading her posts.
Christina at Apron Strings: When another person totally gets the reason behind our shared blog title ... well then, she totally gets me as a person, too.
Mrs. Spit at Mrs. Spit Spouts Off: The strength behind her words and her corresponding actions is something I admire very very much.
LoriBeth at The Road Less Travelled: I've learned a lot about trying to move past my grief just from reading her blog; and for that I am grateful.

There is a catch though ... Apparently, in order to fully "accept" this award, I'm supposed to answer the following questions in one word ... And, if my "Seven Honorees" choose to do so, they can do the same. But at the very least, ladies ... please pass the award on to others. Anyhoo ... I've done this meme before, but it'll be fun to do it again. So here goes:

Where is your cell phone? Bedside
Where is your significant other? Asleep
Your hair color? Black
Your mother? Catholic
Your father? Golf
Your favorite thing? Laptop
Your dream last night? None
Your dream/goal? Happiness
The room you’re in? Hotel
Your hobby? Blogging
Your fear? Failure
Where do you want to be in six years? Happy
Where were you last night? Shopping
What you’re not? Fake
One of your wish list items? Travel
Where you grew up? Suburbia
The last thing you did? Type
What are you wearing? Jammies
Your T.V.? Off
Your pet? Home
Your computer? Laptop
Your mood? Sleepy
Missing someone? Cousins
Your car? Saturn
Something you’re not wearing? Bra
Favorite store? Target
Your Summer? Short
Love someone? Hubby
Your favorite color? Blue
When is the last time you laughed? Yesterday
Last time you cried? Yesterday

And there you have it. Thanks again, WiseGuy, for the award. And everyone ... don't forget to spread the love!

A Quickie

Emily — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 01:47:46 +0000

No ... not that kind. And not the "Afternoon Delight" kind either. Nope ... just wanted to post a quick one to say ... Woo-frickin'-hoo!!! I finished 30 posts in 30 days! Okay. So really, I wrote a post a day for 34 days in a row. But really, who's counting? Oh yeah ... me!! And speaking of counting ... today is officially my 200th post. Who'd a thunk I'd make it this far?! But seriously, writing this past month has been very therapeutic. It has totally helped me get through one of the busiest and exciting months I've had in quite a while. And having done so, it has helped me put my priorities in order and my thoughts into action. So ... with that said, I hope to continue to write consistently. Maybe not every single day (otherwise Hubby would seriously take my lappie away and hide her permanently), but often enough to keep my life a little more sane. Besides, with all the changes happening in the near future, perhaps this is the one steady activity I'll be having in my life until things settle down. Thanks for reading my rambling and for all your comments. You guys just simply ROCK!!

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Emily — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 04:51:08 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 12:09:06 +0000

Labs and Legos

Emily — Thu, 04 Dec 2008 12:11:52 +0000

[caption id="attachment_1121" align="alignright" width="186" caption="To.bey as Spidey in the 1st movie"][/caption] What part of me thought that having my cholesterol levels checked a week after Thanksgiving was a good idea?! Oh, that's right ... I wasn't thinking, that's why! Yes, this morning I get to go to El Doc's office to have my blood drawn. And it's supposed to see how I did after three months of being on a cholesterol-lowering drug. And if I did well with my low fat diet. Uhm ... methinks that I may have failed this test again. What can I say?! It's been a stressful three months? Well, at least November turned out to be a good stressful month. Okay quit making excuses, Em. I should just fess up and say that I totally suck at taking care of myself. Others? Sure, I can take care of them. After all, I'm a frickin' Registered Nut -- oh, I mean Nurse. But like many of my other health care professionals, I have this tendency to worry about others' well-being rather than myself. After all, isn't that the reason why I got into my G*d-awful state of depression in the first place? Thinking that my feelings of self-worth and health as it related to my infertility was nothing compared to others' issues? But once again, I digress. Perhaps this next year, with all the changes in store, will be a better year. And I can start focusing on myself again. Which, by the way ... I have officially cleared my background check (Yay! I'm not a criminal!) and can now officially announce to my current employer that I'm leaving as of the end of this month. [caption id="attachment_1120" align="alignleft" width="192" caption="Doesn't he look like a young To.bey?"][/caption] Anyhoo ... really, what I was going to post about was my Hubby's 8-year old cousin. Who, as he grows older, reminds me more and more of a school-aged To.bey Ma.guire in Sp.iderm.an (the first one, that is). We saw this particular cousin on Thanksgiving, along with his older brother (who is 12 and is such a good kid ). He was one of those kids that decided to snuggle up next to me while watching a movie that night. And afterwards as we played Rock.band, I would listen to him tell me about stories at school. How his favorite subjects were science and math. Holy crap, I thought, at that age my favorite subject was art and recess!! This kid, who has always loved to talk about hurricanes and tornadoes and other "natural disasters," is going to be one heck of a smarty pants. Seriously. As if he's not one precocious smarty pants now. At eight. So that prompted me to ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up. "Uhm," he said, as he cocked his chin up at an angle and propped his index finger on his cheek. "I wanna be a scientist." Which I could totally see him being a meteorologist one day. Or a researcher in some university lab. And then he added, "Or a Le.go designer." "A Le.go designer?," I asked, kinda chuckling under my breath. "Why is that?!" "Well," he answered. "I'm really good at designing things with Le.gos and I have some reaally cool ideas!" [caption id="attachment_1119" align="alignright" width="225" caption="L = E+G+O"][/caption] So there you have it. My Hubby's cousin is a future Le.go designer. Or engineer. Or architect. Either way ... he's gonna be something special. As if that wasn't funny enough, that weekend while we were in suburbs of Chicago we happened to pass by one of the local shopping centers. And what do we see?! Uh-hmm. A Le.goLand store. So we just had to stop in to check it out. And right as you enter the store, there's this massive face of none other than Albert Einstein, made completely of Le.gos. Somehow, I think this could have been one of those ideas that Hubby's cousin would think of, if he was already working for Le.go.

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Emily — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 15:43:01 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 15:45:03 +0000

Eye-Oh-Waah!

Emily — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 15:47:00 +0000

(Finally! Back online and wired -- or "wireless-ed" this case -- to the outside world. Hubby & I have been out of town since Friday and haven't had any internet or email access all weekend. Can't believe how much I miss having no connection to anything! Okay, so maybe it was a blessing after last month's Nablopomo ... ) This weekend Hubby & I spent some time in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Hubby is part of the local Advertising Club in the city where he works. Every year, this Ad Club partakes in the Addy's which is sort of the Oscar's for Advertising. Any regional Ad Club can hold their own Addy's, which the winners of each local club goes on to districts and then nationals. But each level has their own sets of judging. So why were we in Cedar Rapids? Well, because Hubby was asked to judge that local chapter's entries. And because this was sort of "last minute," the flights out there were a bit too expensive. So instead, he decided to drive. And well, because it's a nice 7-plus hour drive from where we live, I hated knowing that he'd be driving that long distance by himself. Which is why I tagged along. [caption id="attachment_1129" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="Wintery Freeway Shot on way to Cedar Rapids"][/caption] While he and two others spent the whole day on Saturday judging, I spent most of the morning and half the afternoon in the hotel room. Except, as I mentioned above, we weren't able to get any internet access. Instead, I flipped through the limited amount of channels on the telly and watched random things. Like a History Channel episode on the Classic Seven Wonders of the World. And High School Musical 1 and 2. And multiple episodes of Han.nah Mon.tana. You could say I was just a little bored. Mid-afternoon, I finally decided to drag my butt out of my jammies and showered. Afterwards, I decided I'd do the half-hour drive down to Iowa City and surrounding Coralville just to check it out. Iowa City was a pretty college town. Lots of students milling about and lots of shops down the little center area. But it was too frickin' cold for me to go walking out there by my lonesome. (Heck ... it was bad enough that I had to fill the car with gas in that 20-some degree temperature; which doesn't even include the wind-chill factor!) So then I decided to head to Coralville where I saw a Bar.nes & Nob.les off the freeway. And really, I went there strictly so I could pick up Book Three in the Twi.light series. I mean after all, I finished the 2nd book earlier that morning while mindlessly flipping through the TV. Ugh. I can't say that this trip was majorly exciting. However, knowing that in June of this year Cedar Rapids was completely devastated from major flooding ... well, it kinda puts things into major perspective. Especially after watching some of the TV spots that were up for judging for Addy Awards. When talking with some of Hubby's peers (the ones that sponsored his stay) during dinner one night, I asked the obvious question; which was how bad did it affect the city? To put it mildly, it devastated Cedar Rapids. When we drove through the streets of the downtown area, our host would point out exactly how high the water levels were. One particular building, you could tell it reached about a story and a half high. Even the server at the restaurant talked about how the entire room we were in was completely submerged under water. There was one instance, we were told, that residents saw some CNN newscasters out on boats, fishing in the middle of the "street." Because there was, indeed, fish swimming in the streets. And as we drove along, you couldn't help but notice how many storefronts were closed. How the actual restaurant our host wanted to take us to never reopened after the flooding. How there were still houses close to the river that appeared to be abandoned with no hope of ever being rebuilt. And there were other stories of house boats that were found piled up at one end of a road. While another pile, this one of derailed boxcars from trains, were stacked up at the other end. The stat we Hubby & I read was that one in four businesses never reopened after a major disaster. Of all things, we read that bit of info on a billboard. On the freeway. In the southwestern-most end of Michigan. On the way to Iowa. (How weird is that?) To see that reality of those numbers in front of our face five months after the flooding was, to put it mildly, was tragic. To know that, indeed, many of these stores would never reopen in the city's downtown business district was heartbreaking. And to know that it would take years to rebuild what was destroyed was just plain sad. [caption id="attachment_1130" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="Sun setting in the college town of Iowa City"][/caption] Those TV spots that Hubby was given to "judge" told the story of what happened during the floodings. The video shots alone were reminiscent of the same video real I remember seeing after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans. And to know that the Iowa floodings happened not so far away from my home ... it was certainly eye-opening. And the sheer enormity of this disaster made me realize that natural disasters can happen anywhere. Floods in the midwest. Hurricanes on the East and Gulf coasts. Earthquakes on the west coast (and even other midwest area places you'd never think of). Tornadoes in the heartland. Either way, I think this has made me realize that all of us could be one step away from catastrophe. So while I was utterly frustrated by the lack of good TV programming or access to the internet ... I feel like I can't really complain about it. Because truthfully ... rebuilding this city and its community is much much more important than making sure I'm up to date with all the latest news. I pray that the community of Cedar Rapids continues to plow forward and rebuild.

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Emily — Mon, 08 Dec 2008 22:29:14 +0000

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"525,600 minutes ..."

Emily — Tue, 09 Dec 2008 19:15:56 +0000

(Update 03.19.2009: Now that the cat's out of the bag, I can finally un-PWP this post!)

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

... 525,600 journeys to plan 525,600 minutes How can you measure The life of a woman or man?"
- "Seasons of Love"

Well, it's official. I am back to apartment living ... and rent. (Ah-hah! Now you get the reference to the song lyrics from the Broadway musical, "Rent.") Along with our trip to Cedar Rapids, IA this weekend, we made another trip to Chicago. Well, for the day anyway. Because we would have had to drive by it on our way back home on Sunday anwyay. Prior to us leaving, I set up an appointment with a free apartment finder service in the city. And that was because the previous weekend, Hubby & I tried to look for apartments in areas we thought we might like. Well, between the fact that we didn't have any set plans ... nor did we have anything else other than a street maps of the city and me as the navigator ... I guess you can say I freaked out on Hubby there for a bit. Yes, I finally had my first major freak-out. Pretty darn good, considering it had been more than a month since realizing that I might actually moving out of state. Seriously. I think the whole reality of it finally sank in. So ... one freak-out thus far ain't so bad. Anyway ... I must say, Hubby & I were a little anxious to look at places. Didn't know what to expect, but hoped for the best. We met our agent, M shortly after arriving in the city in time for our appointment. Right away, Hubby & I felt comfortable with her. M looked up apartments in the areas we were interested in with all the anemities we were interested in having (newish or refurbished kitchen/bath, two bedrooms, at least one bath, takes cats and a dog, and close to the El) within the price range we were willing to pay monthly. Hubby & I knew it would be hard to find everything we wanted within that range, so we were cautiously optimistic. After finding a handful of apartments that fit our search, we were off to look at the places. One was really nice, but small. Another was a nice size, but not in a location we liked. A third had a great layout and was situated above an Italian (!!) restaurant, but the bedrooms were too small. And a fourth also had a great layout and was a tad larger, but was too old for our liking. By this time, Hubby and I were starting to feel like we were being way too picky. Realistically, we knew not to settle for just anything, but the pressure of wanting to find something so we could move in prior to me starting the new job had us worried. That, and we didn't want to waste any more of M's time, as by this time it was about 6 pm and we still had to drive back to Michigan that night. (Not all the way home, but to Lansing. So that hubby could just go into work the next day without having to make another 1.5 hr drive back west from our home the next morning. Lucky me was off that day ...) Amongst all the different areas we drove through, we were pleasantly suprised that we genuinely liked M. She was very professional. And knowledgeable about the various areas we were interested in. In addition, we found out we were similar in age and enjoyed much of the same types of music from back in the 80's. And let's not even get into the same types of cuisine we all liked as well! At one time, I asked about the diversity of a certain neighborhood we really wanted to live in, strictly because one of Hubby's (very conservative) co-workers asked about it. Not that it mattered to us, I told M. In fact, for us diversity (whether it be cultural or lifestyle) was important to us because of who WE were as people. And what we liked to be surrounded by on a daily basis. And how moving here was going to be the beginning of embracing the open attitude we've always had in our lives. Which, given where we currently live and the environment we're surrounded by, has been readily shoved aside. (More on this later.) As we were heading to the next apartment on the list, M slowed her car down and said that she was going to go against all the rules for her job and not to say anything to her employer about what she was going to do. It was at that moment that M told us about another apartment, currently not listed with their agency, that she thought we would like. And the reason she knew about this place was because she used to live in this apartment, but because of financial issues had to move to a smaller place. She said the landlord was awesome and would be willing to negotiate with us as far as rent. She also added that she would honestly be losing out on a commission if we decided to rent this place, but she truly liked us and thought that the two of us would fit in nicely with the rest of the tenants and landlord as well as the rest of the neighborhood. And, oh by the way ... would we be interested in seeing it? Well, h*ll ... after that buildup, how could we say no?! So off to the apartment we went. And all I can say is Oh. My. G*d. The place was just about perfect for what we were looking for. Yeah, there were a couple of odd things, but after what he had seen earlier ... we couldn't have asked for anything better! And the landlord? Incredibly nice and clearly down-to-earth. He and his wife (and 3 kids) live directly across the street and, I've got to say ... Hubby and I both felt just good vibes surrounding him. Seeing that Hubby & I haven't rented in, oh ... let's just say more than a decade ... we were both trying not to show too much excitement over the place. But after exchanging contact info, meeting another one of the neighbors in the next building, and finally climbing back into M's car ... neither of us could hold back our enthusiasm for the place. In fact, right away Hubby & I turned to M to ask her what our next steps should be. So ... after some really sound advice (about deposit and lease length, etc), M encouraged us to call Mr. LL (aka "landlord") and tell us that we were very interested in the place. After finishing the phone call with Mr. LL, Hubby & I turned to M and told her that seeing that she wouldn't get any comission for what she just did ... she would be either our first guest in our new place or we'd be taking her on a night out. And ... Oh. My. G*d. She was now officially our first "new" friend here in Chicago! Afterwards as Hubby and I were driving back to Mr. LL's place to drop of the security deposit ... Hubby turned to me and asked if I had any inclination that M was gay. Because he was as sure as H*ll that she would have found the diversity question I asked earlier offensive ... if I didn't have any idea about her personal life. I had an inkling that she was, which is what I told Hubby. (Which we were later able to confirm by conversations with both Mr. LL and M, herself.) But ... WOW! What if I never asked that diversity question? What if I didn't have any inkling about M's lifestyle? What if we never got the opportunity to discuss how we consciously acknowledged that growing up Asian-American in a very sheltered white-collar/blue-collar environment affected how WE openly approach those who people may have grown up just as "different" as we did? Well, I suppose that would mean that we wouldn't have had the opportunity to see such an awesome apartment. Nor would we have been introduced to Mr. LL, who appears just as excited as we are to move in to this little community. And let me tell you, Hubby is just as excited that I'll be surrounded by a good landlord ... not to mention a couple downstairs with two gentle pitbulls and another male couple upstairs ... who would look out after me during the first two months I'd be there without him. Wow. I still can't believe that yet another door has opened for me. I am so incredibly grateful for how things seem to be working in our favor with this change! And as it appears I'll be slowly be moving within the next two weeks ... I suppose I should go. Because now I have, oh ... about 525,600 things to do.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Holy Crap. Wanna talk about MAJOR stars shining down on Hubby & me right now? I just found out that a good friend of mine from high school ... one who we just recently started to reconnect with through Face.book ... currently lives about a block and a half away from where we'll be living!

My Hubby, My Hiro

Emily — Thu, 11 Dec 2008 09:35:38 +0000

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. [caption id="attachment_1140" align="alignright" width="253" caption="One of Hubby & My Favorite Telly Shows"][/caption] That song ... the one by En.rique Ig.lesias ... 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 En.rique 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 "Her.oes." 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. [caption id="attachment_1138" align="alignleft" width="221" caption=""Heroes" character, Hi.ro Nak.amura"][/caption] 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. [caption id="attachment_1139" align="alignright" width="195" caption="My Hubby, My Hiro ... Like the Spidey tee he's wearing?"][/caption] 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.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=klWluYoa0_8]

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Emily — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 13:17:27 +0000

Show and Tell: The Pointer Cousins

Emily — Sun, 21 Dec 2008 13:22:12 +0000

I realize it's been over a week since I last posted here ... and more that a couple weeks since doing a Sunday Show and Tell. I'd blame it all on the holidays, but truth be told ... Hubby & I just started our Christmas shopping over the past week. And now ... here it is, the week of Christmas. Yikes. And double Yikes! Anyway, today I wanna share with you a photo from last year's Christmas with my Dad's side of the family. It's been years since more than two or three of our families have gotten together for the holidays. Which is weird, because growing up I found myself either at one of my Dad's siblings' home on Christmas or everyone was at our house. Last year, we managed to get all of my Dad's siblings together at my Aunt's house. Not all of the cousins were there, but I do have to say ... getting six out of eleven of us there is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. So anyway ... the picture I'm sharing today is a group shot of all the cousins that were present. We wanted to get a picture with our "Nanay." (Filipino for "Mom," but us cousins have always called our Grandmother that, instead of "Lola" - which is Filipino for "Grandma. Yes, we're weird.) Except of course ... being the crazy ones that we were, we had to make it fun. And thus ....

Here we are, the Pointer Cousins ... doing our rendition of "Jump (for My Love)".

And just because I love watching Hu.gh Grant shake is booty ... here's an extra bonus clip from my favorite movie (probably of all times), "Love, Actually"

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2PHE8kfKuI]

If I don't get a chance to post before the madness, which in our family begins on Christmas Eve ... I hope that every single one of you have an incredible Holiday. May the warmth of family and friends this holiday season carry over into 2009!

Happy Festivus and Merry Chrismahanukwanzakah to you all!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Now, make sure you head over to Mel's and check out the rest of the Show and Tell items for the week!!

If Imelda ...

Emily — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 04:04:22 +0000

[caption id="attachment_1173" align="alignleft" width="198" caption="An actual pair from Imelda's Collection"][/caption] ... Marcos could, I wonder if she'd try to cast one of her 1,060 shoes in the same direction. I babble, I know. But if you wanna get a nice little chuckle today, click on this link. My personal favorite is the Dodgeball one.

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Emily — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 04:21:38 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 04:29:53 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 17:20:27 +0000

Happy Holidays!

Emily — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 17:22:27 +0000

Wow. It's been a whirlwind few months. Actually, it's been quite a year. But we won't go into that, as it's documented quite well in these virtual pages. What I really want to say, besides "Happy Holidays" and such is this. Thank you for everyone that has read my ramblings over the years. Whether you've commented or not, just knowing that there is someone out there "listening" to my hopes, dreams, heartbreaks and heartaches means more than you'll ever know. And my wish is that my writings, my sometimes incoherent babble ... somehow touched you in some way. It could have been a silly comment that made you smile. Or an angry tirade that "spoke" those words you could never say aloud. Or perhaps an observation noted or a sentiment stated that precipitated a moment of genuine clarity as to the complexities of infertility or life as a first generation Asian-American. In any case, I wish you and your family a Very Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or Kwanzaa, a Peaceful Winter Solstice. May the warmth of this holiday season carry each and every one of you throughout your lives.

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Emily — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 19:54:22 +0000

Mmmm .... Stop.

Emily — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 19:56:09 +0000

With my feet in the air and my head on the ground ... Yes. That's it. I've finally cracked. Without going into complete detail just yet (and yes, I will expound on this at a later date), I have completely lost my mind. And it's because this morning, I have not only lost that brain of mine, but I lost my dog!!! To put it lightly, I'm totally freaking out right about now. So if any of you have any pull with St. Anthony or St. Francis ... please please please ask them to deliver my Kozzy back to Hubby and me safe and sound. She may not be the smartest dog in the world, but she's our lovable, affable, silly Kozzy-Bear ... [caption id="attachment_1185" align="aligncenter" width="371" caption="Our Lovable "Kozzy-Bear""][/caption]

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Emily — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 06:03:31 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 06:07:32 +0000

(5 of) 10 Good (?) Reasons ...

Emily — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 06:10:52 +0000

... For Disappearing from Cyberspace WTF?! I simply cannot believe it's already New Years Eve. I mean seriously ... where has all the time gone? It seems literally like yesterday that I was finishing up on the November Nablopomo. But here it is, 31 days later and I'm still scrambling to deal with last minute end-of-the-year things. Anyway, now that I've managed to have a slight breather in between holidays, I thought I might catch y'all up with what I've been up to. What, frankly ... has made this past month go by in a blur. And what has prevented me from being able to sit down long enough to read and respond to my other bloggie friends' blogs. Except, that there's so much that I didn't get to blog about over the past month that I need to break it down into two parts. So without further ado ... here's part of "The List."

1. Lost and subsequently found our Kozzy-girl.

As you guys have probably been wondering ... (thanks for your wonderful thoughts and prayers, BTW) the Sts. Francis and Anthony came through yesterday afternoon. I would have posted sooner, but as it was ... my mind was already on the fritz. [caption id="attachment_1194" align="alignright" width="186" caption="Like my poster?"][/caption] After I posted yesterday, I ended up heading to the local office supply store and printing up a bunch of flyers made from my handy dandy lappie. And then I started handing them out to anyone I saw on the drive back to my house (all while randomly calling Kozzy's name out to see if perhaps she'd respond). Well, so my next step was to go down our street to each of our neighbors and pass out the flyers. I got no further than four doors down when our neighbor told me that two women came down the street about an hour ago (probably when I was out making the d*mn flyers!) with a dog that look just like my picture asking him if he recognized this dog. He also said that they were planning on taking her to the local animal shelter if they couldn't find the owner. So ... after thanking our neighbor profusely, I set out to call our city animal shelter only to be told that there was no such dog matching her description there. However, the person I talked to told me to drop off a picture of her and she'd keep an eye out for my Kozzy. I had already planned on making the rounds of all the local shelters (including theirs), so there wasn't more I could do until then. Not more than an hour later, I get a phone call. From our city animal shelter. Apparently Kozzy WAS there earlier, but since they had just stepped in the door when I called earlier ... they weren't aware that this was the dog I was inquiring about. So I rushed over there and picked up our sweetie-girl. Who acted as if absolutely nothing had gone on. I told you she wasn't the smartest dog. But ... we love her to bits.

2. Got fingerprinted at local police office.

No ... I did not get arrested and booked for breaking the law. Even though I know some people that may wish to see me locked up ... the real reason my fingertips got slathered with black ink was so that I could officially submit my application for an RN license in another state. Oh yay! Now I can be added to a national database so that perhaps Gris.som on CSI can rule me out as a suspect on a homicide case.

3. Made an effort to exterminate a "rodent" problem.

Somehow methinks this statement might indicate that we have ... ahem ... unwanted "guests" in our house. Nope. That's not the case. Actually, the particular "rodent" I'm talking about is myself. As in Emily, the Pack Rat. Let's just say that between the two of us, Hubby and I have filled up eight extra-large garbage bags of stuff to donate to the local Sal. Army ... and that's just the beginning! I'm hoping by the time I'm finished, I'd have cleaned out at least 12 years of junk collected since moving into our house. [caption id="attachment_1195" align="alignleft" width="183" caption="Sample Bit from our Lego Poster"][/caption]

4. Became an Assistant Lego Designer.

Pretty funny, considering the recent post I had about Hubby's cousin loving his Legos. But no ... the "Head Lego Designer" in this situation was Hubby. He was asked by his local Ad Club to design a poster for their upcoming Addy Awards and his idea was to create one made up completely of Lego pieces. It took us a few evenings in a row (not to mention multiple boxes of Legos), but we ended up completing one design. I think we could have come up with more designs, but we were limited in time AND in Lego pieces. Maybe we should have asked Hubby's 8-year old cousin to help us out?

5. Remembered why I became a "skirt nurse."

In the midst of Hubby & I working on this Lego poster, Hubby got sick. With the Flu. But not just the fever-and-chills kinda flu. We're talking the stomach flu. The kind of flu that requires a bucket or bowl at the side of the bed. The same one that usually requires another person getting a cool washcloth for the sick person in question. And the one where the non-sick person ends up being the one to empty said bowl-slash-bucket in the kitchen sink. (Okay, let me clarify that. This typically only happens when the sick person is either a husband or a child ... and rarely when the sick person is the wife or mom.) In any case ... being the "non-sick" person in this scenario reminds me of one of the things I absolutely hated about being a staff nurse on a hospital unit. Not that I didn't enjoy taking care of the sick ... but if there was one thing I hated more than any other nursing task, it would be cleaning up after someone has "tossed their cookies." Weird, considering I can deal with (and rather enjoy seeing) "ickier" things. Like open gaping gut wounds. Why something as "natural" as any one person puking reaffirms my need to no longer "work the floors" is definitely beyond me. And the kicker? Let's just say that three days later, the bug decided to hit me, too. And just like I hate dealing with someone else's upchuck ... I hate dealing with my own. Because I hate being nauseated. 'Nuff said. So that's the end of Part One. Stay tuned for Part Two ... which should hopefully be out tomorrow. Maybe. If not ... here's to wishing every single one of you a Happy New Years!!

The Rest of the List ...

Emily — Thu, 01 Jan 2009 12:21:25 +0000

As promised, here's the rest of my reasons for disappearing from Blogland. Hope everyone had a wonderful New Year's Eve!!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

6. Rediscovered my love for big stage productions.

For our anniversary (back at the end of August), Hubby got us tickets to see "Wicked" at the Detroit Opera House. Let's preface this by saying that I've been asking to see this musical for years. It's only until Hubby got the opportunity to listen to the audiobook version of the book that the musical was based on that he finally expressed interest in seeing the musical. Earlier this month, as I sat about 15 rows back and to the right of the stage, I realized how much the Drama Club-geek in me missed the excitement and wonders of musicals. Not to mention that the story itself and the songs were fan-f*cking-tastic! It makes me want to see the Chicago production before it closes at the end of January. Hmmm ... perhaps I will get that opportunity! :-)

7. Pondered the relationship between Siri.us and Jaco.b Bl.ack.

A while back, I started reading the "Twi.light" series by Steph.anie Mey.er. Except I never finished the whole series before the movie based on the first book came out. After seeing the translation into film, I had the incredible urge to finish the rest of the 4-book series ... like, right away. And thus, I spent a good two weeks (in whatever spare time I had) completely immersed in Bel.la's world. The sad thing? I was so disappointed on how the series ended. Seriously. Book Four should have ended when Bel.la "died." And ... Ren.esmee ... WTF?! Her first name would have been better as Ca.rlie.

8. Attempted to decipher the "kids only" rule.

[caption id="attachment_1202" align="alignright" width="230" caption="Ambushed by gifts ..."][/caption] For Christmas this year, Hubby and I were told that the big "extended" family decided this year to buy presents for kids only. Which ... hey, with all that's going on with me ... was perfectly fine. I wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to save some extra money. Except ... well, there was no clear definition of who was considered a "kid." Seriously ... did it mean anyone who was under 18? Did this include the adult "kids" of your own set of children? And really ... what about those couples that don't have kids? Is it fair to expect them to go home "empty-handed" just because they don't have kids? And is it fair to expect the "childless couple" to buy presents for everyone else's kids and have no one buy anything for them? Okay, I realize I'm being petty here. But here again is yet another insensitive remark / action that "fertile" people may not realize is stressful for the infertile.

A solution? Perhaps include the childless couple on the list of people to buy for? It doesn't have to be a fancy shmancy gift. A restaurant or movie (or hey ... even a Target) gift card for even a small amount is always a lovely t0 give to us infertiles. Any small gesture to acknowledge that we're simply not forgotten during such a child-centric holiday is very much appreciated.

Stepping off my soapbox now ...

9. Rocked out until my joints hurt.

[caption id="attachment_1201" align="alignleft" width="218" caption="Rockin' Out to "Eye of The Tiger""][/caption] For Christmas, our good friend J gave me RockBand 2 for our Wii. Totally one of the best Christmas gifts I received this year! (Well except for the gifts that Hubby got me ... which, he's always been a great gift-giver in general.) Expecially since he's the same friend that got Hubby & I the original RockBand for the two of us as birthday gifts this past July.

If you've never played this game and you love music ... you must find a way to play it. I could care less which platform you use (PS3, Xbox, etc), you just have to try it for yourself. It's so. D*mn. Addicting. Especially in any social situation you're in. Like the surprise birthday party we attended this past Saturday for my Hubby's aunt. All the kids were playing. And then later in the evening ... there was a lot of "Drunk RockBand" going on with the "adults." Waaay too much fun. So much fun, in fact, that the next morning wrists were hurting (from "playing" the guitar) and shoulders were aching (from banging on the drums). Ack ... I must finally be feeling my age!

10. Facebooked until my face hurt.

I do admit it, I love Facebook. It's yet another addicting internet activity that I could spend hours and hours on. Not that I've ever used it to cyber-stalk anyone ... rather I use it to keep in touch with family members and friends in ways we never could before in the past. We've been able to share quick news bits with each other, post photos from events that we've been to ... tease each other like we do IRL. I've found that Facebook had kept me close to those family and friends that are far away from where we live ... and even those that aren't!

Needless to say, during the Holidays I've been quite active with all my Facebook friends and family; sharing pictures, exchanging virtual "gifts", and wishing them all the warmth and happiness in the world.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

So there you have it. The ten reasons for disappearing for a while. I still can't believe it's now 2009. And how, as of next week, I will be at my new job.

Of all things, Hubby & I picked today, the first of the year, to start the move to our new life. (Anyone else find that symbolic?!) Unfortunately, this means I will be having sketchy internet connection over the next week or so. Which means I will, once again, disappear for a little while. But once I'm back, I'm sure I'll have lots to say. Until then ... I'm once again wishing you all a wonderful 2009!

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Emily — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 21:47:42 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 22:01:36 +0000

Unraveled

Emily — Sun, 04 Jan 2009 22:04:35 +0000

[caption id="attachment_1205" align="alignright" width="236" caption="Our hearts will go on ..."][/caption] I knew when I decided to take on a new career path that I would be separated from him for at least two months. And I knew that we'd see each other on the weekends, as we both spent the time concluding business at our old place while moving into our new one. What I didn't expect was that it would be so hard to say good-bye. Especially this first time. Except it's not good-bye. Rather it's a "See you in 4 days." But that doesn't stop my heart from feeling as if it's a ball of yarn unraveling as the distance between the two of us widens. Since being married more than a decade ago, we have never been more than two days apart from each other ... two and a half, at most. While I know many couples have survived in long distance relationships or cherish the time that they have on their own, we're just simply not like that. [caption id="attachment_1206" align="alignleft" width="224" caption="Christmas Eve shot"][/caption] I've had it said to me that it's "unnatural" that the two of us want to spend each and every moment together. That it's strange that we enjoy all the same activities, or that we take an interest in whatever any hobby or activity that the other one decides to take up. I've even been told that perhaps his involvement in every aspect of my life is more of a "control" issue or a "possessive" streak in his personality. The truth is that we're just not a very sociable couple. Not to say that we don't have wonderfully close friends or even closer family members. It's just that we don't tend to go out with other friends or couples a whole lot. Other than our hobbies and activities, we are very much homebodies. And we quite enjoy being as such. So that is what makes this temporary separation much more difficult. At least for me; especially as I'm in a completely new and wonderfully strange environment. Because as excited as I am to be here, I just wish my best friend was by my side to experience everything with me.

Leaving Bits of Myself

Emily — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 03:18:57 +0000

Today was the first day at my new job. And while the majority of the day was spent going over corporate policies and benefits ( ... yawn ... ), I was rather excited. Especially since at the end of the day, I was able to meet the majority of the Case Managers within the department I'll be working in. But today's post is really about another day. This is about last Wednesday; New Year's Eve. It's strange that the last day of 2008 also happened to be the last day at my old job. It was bittersweet kind of day. After all, I spent 9 years of my life there. I've made great connections; wonderful friends, some of which have become more like family than just friends. I also learned a lot about my professional self over those years. And I learned a lot about what kind of supervisor I wanted to be in this latest career move by witnessing the actions of those leaders I very much respected. It should have been no surprise that I spent the last three working days I had left cleaning out my desk and packing my personal belongings. After all, there was 9 years worth of out-of date job aids, projects, and resource manuals that needed to be chucked. And being the pack rat I am, I've managed to collect many little chotski's over the years; small stuffed animals, little ceramic figurines and a slew of holiday coffee mugs. Ugh ... we won't even go over all the pens from various vendors I dumped into the general supply cabinet. You see ... as a pack rat, I have this tendency to attach certain memories with certain objects. And because of that, it makes it difficult for me to throw anything things away. But since not only am I changing jobs but location as well, I know I have to get rid of these sentimental-yet-not-useful items. My solution to this office dilemma I faced? Well rather than throwing these items away, I started to "give back" some of those memories or "will" these items to my other coworkers who may just have a "need" for them. A few of the things I left behind were:

A little handmade felt tie with yellow felt "cheese" made specifically for one of our "Who Moved My Cheese" presentation to one of our supervisors who worked directly with me back when I was supervisor the first time around.
A ceramic Meiko Cat figurine (which symbolizes good luck and fortune) to coworker who loves to travel to exotic places.
A plastic purple Princess Crown to coworker we've all dubbed "The Queen" or "Your Majesty."

In addition, I left some other general random things around the department for others to "discover" in my absence. For instance, I left a Buckingham Fountain Poster (given to me by another coworker, who has since long left the company) on the department bulletin board with arrow pointing to which building to come visit me when in the area. And I left a small inflatable "punching bag" on our "humor cart" for people to punch whenever they got stressed out. Why did I do this other than the fact that I was getting rid of pieces that I no longer had to pack? Well, as I left these items around the department, I realized that I was doing this to leave random bits of myself all around the office. The same office that I've lived and breathed in over the past 9 years. The very same one that kept me waking up every morning ... especially during the darkest parts of my IF journey ... just so I'd have some sort of purpose in my life. As frustrating as I've felt during certain periods in our company's history ... I know I will miss this place. And all the people I've considered my family over the past 9 years.

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Emily — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 12:23:11 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 12:29:16 +0000

Pie is Home

Emily — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 12:30:52 +0000

Pie is home ... and people always come home. - The Pie-Maker, "Pushing Daisies"

I don't know why it's taken me so long, but I've fallen in love with series "Pushing Daisies." I've caught bits and pieces of the show, yet never saw a complete episode. But what I did see, I liked. Visually, it's an amazing show. But as to the plot? I had no clue. That is until Sunday. When, out of desperation for lack of TV viewing (still no cable and no good signal available for local TV), Hubby & I went to Target to get some DVD's. Buy a TV show DVD, Hubby suggested. After all, I am known for watching marathons of "House" or "CSI" on the USA network. That, and it'll probably get me through the week until the cable guy gets here. So hence the reason I've started watching Season 1 of "Pushing Daisies." [caption id="attachment_1215" align="aligncenter" width="356" caption="The cast of "Pushing Daisies""][/caption] Besides the incredibly saturated colors and equally quirky characters, the other incredible aspect of this show is the dialogue. It's witty. It's fast. It's full of pop culture. And its dialogue so reminds me of another one of my favorite series of all time, "Gilmore Girls." No ... there is no comparison when it comes to story lines. Both shows are uniquely dissimilar in plot and characters. However, the quick and clever exchanges among the characters are very much alike. And I'm very much looking forward to watching the rest of the series ... which, unfortunately has been canceled in the midst of its second season. (Total bummer ...) But that wasn't what I was about to blog about. Really, the subject matter (minus the "Pie" reference) is in the title of this post ... which happens to relate to a line in one of the "Pushing Daisies" episodes. Home. After living in our house for over 12 years and now living in a different location, I'm having a difficult time distinguishing what I should label as home. It kind of reminds me of when Hubby & I first moved into our suburban house after just getting married; when I would still call my parents' place "home" even though I knew that my new "home" was with Hubby. I had to adjust to the fact that I was now making a "home" with my husband. This is what's been troubling me these past two days, as I've met new people in my new job. I can't tell you how many people have asked me what area I was calling "home" these days. And I would respond by telling them which neighborhood I lived in. However, I would also find myself telling them that "home" was still in my old town. What I realized yesterday evening after work, was the reason I struggled with calling my new place "home" ... Home for me is not a physical location that could be located by GPS. Oh no, home was definitiely where the heart is. And my heart is with my Hubby. So until Hubby is officially by my side ... I won't consider this new place "home."

Everything's The Same ...

Emily — Tue, 13 Jan 2009 05:17:55 +0000

... But different. Yes, I know that things are "physically" different lately ... especially as to my actual location these days. Lots of new things to discover, lots of new routines to learn. For instance, I'm still trying to figure out exactly what time I need to leave our place in order to catch the train to make it to work on time. (And notice I said "place" and not "home"!) Because if there's one thing I've learned is that there *is* a difference when leaving 15 minutes earlier or later from the previous day. Anyhoo ... Hubby and I realized around Christmas that this year would be his 20th high school reunion. Which meant that next year would be mine. While I know Hubby will most likely not go to his, I'm still on the fence as to whether or not I would want to go to mine. That is ... if we even have one. Because, quite frankly ... we never had a 15 year one (which most other graduating classes from my high school have had one). And also because finding people I graduated with on Facebook is much easier to do than I ever thought. Plus, going through social network websites like that afford you the opportunity to only contact those people that you genuinely want to catch up with. I've been rather lucky. My first golden contact happened almost 10 years ago, when a good friend (let's call her E) from high school contacted me through classmates-dot-com. From her, I managed to get in touch with yet another one of our good friends, G. And while we all live in different parts of the US, we have managed to keep in touch these past 10 years, seeing each other separately at various times. There has only been one opportunity for the three of us to gather together one time in all those years ... but in true "girlfriend fashion," it was a "slumber party!" And no, there were no "light-as-a-feather" seances or incidents of frozen of underpants. It was just simply good ole "sit-in-front-of-the-TV and eat chocolate" girlfriend fun. Last Wednesday night, I received a phone call from G. She has been a rock for me these past few years; especially over the past two years. And even though we might not talk on the phone or email as often as we'd like, she had this knack for sending snail mail at the times I needed it most. Now, whether that was intentional ... I'll never know. But her words always managed to soothe me; remind me that she was there for me when I needed her, even if that wasn't physically written in the letter. In any case, G's phone call that night was to deliver some news. And yes, it was that news; the news that she was pregnant. And not only was she pregnant, but she was more than 7 months along and due at the end of March. She didn't tell me sooner, she told me in our conversation, because she knew that I was not in the best shape emotionally at the time she found out for herself. I honestly could not be anything more than excited for G. Truth be told, I was waiting for the day that I would be the receiver of such news. It was only a matter of time, as G and her husband have now been married more than a few years. And, not to sound as if I'm just "going through the motions" here ... I'm genuinely happy for G and her hubby. What surprised me most during this phone conversation is that I had this incredible longing to see G pregnant. Why this particular high school friend and not any another ... or not even my SIL during her recent pregnancies? I don't know if I could explain it clear enough. But I will try my best ... Part of me thinks it's because I can still recall how my friends and were back in high school. How innocent we looked. How our futures seemed so hazy and obscure; so distant from where we were at that time in our lives. Now that future is here, and we can't seem to slow it down or stop it from moving forward. So by capturing an image this particular friend during her pregnancy ... I relate it as a way for us to slow down the moment and enjoy the happiness of it all. Something in the back of my mind seems to think the need to capture this moment is also related to the recent changes I've made in my life ... one which doesn't have me dwelling on my "failure" to have my own children. One that has me focusing on the best part of myself and repairing my overall health ... versus focusing on what I would probably consider the worst bits of me. You know ... the over-stressed, overly sensitive, "Why not me?" type of person. In any case, I'm ecstatic for G and cannot wait to see pictures of her little one, due the end of March. Last week, I also had the opportunity to spend time with another high school friend, K ... the one who lives about a block and a half away from our place. I also got to meet her hubby and her beautiful (almost) 9 month old daughter. After seeing videos of K's baby on her blog for months, I was finally able to hold that cutie-pie girl. And, oh my! She's just as charming and sassy as she was on all those videos I've watched. Oh, and did I mention that K's hubby is a sous chef at a pretty fancy-schmancy restaurant? And that I got to sample some of his fantastic cooking that night? Yeah ... It. Was. Simply. Delish! After chatting online with K for months, talking to her face-to-face was incredible. It was like we picked up where we left off more than 15 years ago! That level of comfort, of humor ... it was as if we both jumped off a wagon back in the midst of college to go our separate ways, only to catch the same wagon 15 years later without missing a beat. The conversation flowed seamlessly that night. (I stayed waaay past my bedtime for a "work" night!) And the more K & I talked, the more we realized how much we've changed over the years. Not in personality ... as we still blathered about in the same witty sarcastic dialogue as we did in HS. But rather we've changed in the way we've approached certain situations. And that our own personal experiences made us feel as if we were no longer "invincible" ... that the paths our lives took, although very different, taught us pain and frustration and heartache. But in the end, K & I both realized that despite what we've been through, we consider ourselves very truly lucky to be where we're at today. Both of us are not quite "finished" with what we want to accomplish in our lives (K with her career and me with ... well, I still don't really know), but what we've been through and where we are today is nothing short of amazing. After both these encounters last week, I realized that even though there has been many changes in my life over the years (whether personal or professional), deep down I know I'm the same person inside. I still have that silly, quirky personality, and while sometimes hidden, I know it's somewhere in this mind and body. I just need to dig deep down to find myself again. Wow. Long and babbling post. But as I know that both G and K (and not to forget E) read this blog, I wanted to let them know just how much their friendships mean to me. Really, girls ... even though we don't see or talk to each other much, I just wanted to let you know that you are all very special to me. And your friendships, especially because of my lack of any sort of sisterhood-bond, are something that I will treasure always.

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Emily — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:58:16 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 00:59:51 +0000

Cold Day in H*ll

Emily — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 01:01:15 +0000

Wow. I've never experienced being so frickin' cold in my life. Today when walking from my office building to the train station (two and a half blocks away), I happened to catch a bank sign that announced the current temperature outside. Five. Below. Zero. And that doesn't include the d*mn wind chill factor ... in which I believe was forecasted as being up to Minus 30 Degrees. Hmmm ... so that's why it's called the Windy City. Heh. Lucky me was smart enough to wear knee high socks and leggings over the thick pants I wore with a long sleeved shirt under a thick red fleece pullover. Add the awesome North Face hooded coat, awesome winter boots and one of my hand knit scarves ... I was go. Or so I thought. By the time I traveled the one and a half blocks from the train station to our place, my cheeks were redder than my fleece top. And my fingers? Damn those cheap mittens ... my fingers felt frozen to the core! So frozen, in fact, that they felt as if all my fingertips quickly grazed across the bottom of a hot iron. Seriously, it felt as if they were on fire! [caption id="attachment_1226" align="alignleft" width="153" caption="What do you think? Should I get THIS ski mask ..."][/caption] Well at least I know my coat and boots work great ... guess if I continue to work were I do, I should invest in a nice pair of gloves. Hubby says I should get one of those knitted ski masks like we used to wear as children ... but I draw the line at that. Speaking of work ... now that I'm two weeks into my new job, I have to say that I'm quite impressed by this company. Coming from an area where jobs are being cut left and right and the overall morale is depressing, both emotionally and economically ... (after all, Detroit is America's Automotive Headquarters) it's refreshing to enter a workplace that isn't so downtrodden and beaten to the brow with talks of layoffs and cutbacks. In fact, in our department (Medical Management) we are actually in need of more RN Case Managers. [caption id="attachment_1227" align="alignright" width="136" caption="Or this one?! "][/caption] Oh, I know it's not realistic to think that our department is impervious to the economic downswing of our nation ... I know it will hit us sooner or later. However, to know that this particular place (and more specifically, our department) is indeed reporting actual savings in health care costs? Well, that just is simply refreshing. Because, quite frankly ... where I came from, that was just not done. Not that they didn't try to show cost savings, but for one reason or another they could never get the hard data to prove that they were saving costs. Okay, I know I'm getting all technical here. To put it simply, this company is achieving their goals by doing the things that I've tried for years to do at my previous place of employment. And it's just nice. Nice knowing that what I had been pushing for (and meeting lots of resistance along the way) in my previous job was actually being done successfully at the place I'm at now. Needless to say, I'm liking it there. And it's just one of the many facts to validate that my decision to move careers and locations was a d*mn good one. Now, if we could just fix this cold weather ...

Me? Quiet?! - UPDATED

Emily — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 15:07:44 +0000

After reading this post once again (and realizing how inconspicuous it starts out as), I'm finding it rather appropriate that I posted this today, on MLK Jr Day ... and on the eve of the Presidential Inauguration of Barack Obama. If anything, I encourage you to read the following with an open mind and with the hopes and dreams that both these two historical men had and currently have.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~ Well, the good news is that there's a "warm front" on the horizon. Of course, "warm" means highs of 20 degrees over the next week. Much better than the sub-zero temperatures. Good thing too, because I was seriously sick of having my scarf stick to my nose from all the frozen snot (yes, I know that sounds disgustingly awful). It's bad enough that it was so cold that my eyes would water ... and that those tears would immediately freeze on my eyelids! One thing that helped warm the weekend was the arrival of Hubby. It's always a brighter, sunshine-y day (a-la-Brady Bunch) when Hubby's around. He flew in from Dubuque, IA where he was once again an Addy judge for their local Ad Club. I met him at the airport and then headed (for what seems like the millionth time) to Ikea to pick up some more household stuff. It seems as if until he's officially with me, I'll be needing a second set of whatever we currently have at our house in Detroit. We're trying our best not to buy anything we don't need. Except I am finding it rather difficult to be living with just a bed, two chairs, and a table ... which, coincidentally is doubling as a TV stand at the moment. Oh well, one more reason to look forward to when Hubby & I are together once again. We did make it a point to catch a movie this weekend. And really ... we ended up seeing two, but only one was, in my opinion, worth mentioning. If you haven't had a chance, go see Cli.nt Eas.twood in "Gran Torino." One of the best things about seeing this movie is that it was shot in Detroit and its surrounding areas. During certain parts of the movie, Hubby & I would be pointing out certain locations to each other, thinking we'd know where it was filmed. One particular scene, however, (the barber shot scene) we knew was actually shot in the city I live (lived?) in. That was pretty cool to see. It was a big deal in the news last summer that Cli.nt was filming in our area. Big Oscar-award winning director/actor setting up office in the area, renting a house in our suburbs ... well, it was just plain cool. There would be sightings of him in the local mall, grocery store, etc ... and stories of him being exactly as kind and unassuming as the media always portrays him. That was cool to hear. And the big thing was that Cli.nt seriously immersed himself into the role he played. Not only was he the lead actor of the film, but he directed it as well. And if you know anything about the movie, Cli.nt and his team submerged themselves into the Hmong community. Despite what most people think, Hmong is not (and never was) a nation or a type of "nationality." The Hmong people are a collection of 18 different mountain tribes that have lived in China and other southeast Asian countries (such as Laos, Thailand and Vietnam). Many of them migrated to the U.S.* following the Korean and Vietnam War as refugees with the assistance of a few Christian missionary groups. Other families came after assisting the U.S. during these wars. In any case, many might consider the Hmong a "nation-less" culture; much like one can't pinpoint exactly which part of Latin or South America an Aztec or Mayan person may have come from. The reason I bring up this bit of history in my post was to further delve into "Gran Torino." Cli.nt Eas.twood's character, Walter is ... for lack of better terms, what Hubby and I would call a "Crappy Pappy." Meaning, he's an older man past the prime of his life, who would spend the rest of his days as a crotchety, cantankerous old man. Walter's the mean old man next door who would yell at you for stepping on his lawn, would say something rude just to get a rise out of a person ... would yell out "Slow down, kid!" to any teenager who drives just a little too fast past his house. Walter is also the type of man who had no qualms about shouting out plain old racial slurs to any person who was different than him. Whether it was the young 27-year old Catholic priest, the white "Vanilla Ice"-type teenager, or the Hmong people who slowly have taken over the neighborhood where he lives ... he always found something crude and rude to say about them. [caption id="attachment_1238" align="alignleft" width="200" caption=""Stay off my lawn, Punk!""][/caption] In the beginning, the first-generation Asian-American gal in me found it pretty darn funny. The comments Walter would make under his breath were every stereotypical racial slur you would expect; some more crude than others. He's a guy, as my good friend Kara would say, with a bad case of "verbal diarrhea." There came a point, however, when I found myself getting more and more annoyed. Not so much with what Walter may have said or done, but more about how the crowd around us reacted to those racial statements. As strange as it may sound, I started to feel rather ... uncomfortable (for lack of better words) with my surroundings. It's not that I was mad or upset about the dialogue in this movie, because after all, Walter is supposed to be that type of character; one with no inhibitions about saying such racial slurs aloud. What, I guess upset me more, is that the primarily non-Asian crowd kept laughing and laughing and laughing about each inappropriate comment made. (I mean seriously people, how many times can one laugh about the multiple suggestions / innuendos that all Asians eat dog?!) It came to a point where it felt as if the comments Walter made were every single thing that many of the other movie-goers wished they could say out loud on a daily basis ... without, of course, sounding unbelievably politically incorrect. Maybe I'm making too much of a big deal about this. Or maybe I'm not. I just know, from my experiences as an Asian-American, that most of our backgrounds are such that we (collectively as Asians of any descent) are known as a "quiet culture." A culture that isn't known to raise a "stink" about social injustices against our "people." A culture that, quite frankly, is known to just "suck it up" when it comes to having things said or done against us.** And if you see "Gran Torino," you will be able to see that part of Asian mentality ... especially during the first half of the movie in scenes with Thao (or "Toad," as Walter calls him), the male Asian lead character. I, myself, find a bit of my personality in Thao's sister, Sue. "Americanized" enough to know how to stick up for myself, but still feeling a bit of an outsider amongst the rest of the world. (I'm nowhere near as "straightforward as this chick ... but I can so relate to her experiences!) In any case, it's your opinion, as a reader to decide whether I'm making this issue to be more than it should be. What I do know for a fact is that "Gran Torino" is just a movie. And a well-written one at that. Because what happens in this movie ... what happens with Cli.nt Eastw.ood's "Walter" during the course of the movie is, without a doubt, phenomenal. And really, who better to direct this movie ... to star in this movie as Walter ... and bring up such sensitive issues than Cli.nt Eastw.ood? Personally, I think he should be, at the very least nominated for Best Actor during this year's Oscar race. Go see the movie (if you haven't already). And tell me your thoughts.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* The Detroit area, particularly the city of Warren, has one of the largest Hmong communities in the nation. Another one of the reasons why it was so cool that Eastw.ood filmed "Gran Torino" in the area. ** As I re-read this post, I realized that there has been an even more recent incident involving Asian-Americans in the Detroit area. Most Asians are very familiar with the Vincent Chin story, as this sparked the first instance of solidarity among Asian groups against hate crimes. However, not many Asians were aware of another incident that happened about 2.5 years ago to Chonburi Xiong (who, coincidently was Hmong). Please ... I encourage every one of my readers to click on the links of these names above (or even these ones) and read the stories. It is only by *knowing* that such instances exist that we can be aware of how our every day words and actions can affect others all around us.

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Emily — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 18:48:14 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 19 Jan 2009 18:58:27 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 18:14:48 +0000

Dawn of a New Day

Emily — Tue, 20 Jan 2009 18:16:16 +0000

A New Era begins ...

Calling 911 ...

Emily — Thu, 22 Jan 2009 14:22:16 +0000

... is the easiest way to meet Firefighters and EMTs at CVS. Oh, and it's a great way to get recommendations for a new primary doctor, too. So yesterday my day started off riding the train to work. No different than any other day these past weeks, but that morning I happened to have certain personal health issues on my mind. Like the fact I had been feeling like crap over the past few days; nauseated, hungry but no will to eat, vertigo. I had left work early on Tuesday because of those same symptoms, all while people around me asked if perhaps I was "with child." A matter I scoffed at, and then had to remind myself that I was around a new group of people. People of who didn't know my struggles with IF over the past decade or so. And just to clear it up right away, for those that might be wondering ... No, I'm not pregnant. Anyhoo ... When I got back to my place on Tuesday morning, I promptly plopped myself in front of the TV just long enough to watch history being made and then headed off to bed. Where I slept for five hours straight. Then I woke up, munched on something that might be considered dinner and promptly climbed back into bed for the rest of the night. My goal was to get up the next morning and make it to work, even if it killed me. Which brings us back to yesterday morning on the train. As I struggled to keep my thoughts together (and my surroundings from feeling as if it was swirling around me ... vertigo sucks!), I happened to look up at the ads directly across the aisle from where I sat. And there was a sign up above that advertised a local hospital system in the area. Yes, I remember thinking to myself, I really do need to start looking for a primary doctor. After all, I do have quite a medical history. Plus, this feeling sick is for the birds. And hmm ... I wonder if this hospital system has some good docs in the area? Despite the haziness in my brain, I made it to work safely and through half of the day. Until the nausea associated with the spinning room became too unbearable. An inner ear infection, I thought It was then that I decided I should probably go to an urgent care center of some sorts. But where? I'm too new to the area ... oh, and by the way I have no car, so if I did go to one, it'd have to be close to one of the train lines. Then a co-worker suggested MinuteClinic over at CVS. You know, the Nurse Practitioner (NP)-run clinic that can diagnose and treat simple health-related issues like minor scrapes and bruises, upper-respiratory infections and ... oh, I don't know ... ear infections! So I located the one closest to my place and close to one of the train lines, Google-Mapped directions* and headed out the door. All after emailing my staff and cc'ing leadership that I should be back the next day. Famous last words. So I stumbled over to the CVS, signed in and was promptly seen by the NP. I told her my simple story (which, remember this ... because I tell it over and over again); that I've been having dizziness and nausea for the past 3 days. I thought it was a simple flu bug, but since it was still lingering I thought it might have been an ear infection. After all, I'm prone to developing ear infections. And since I was new to the area and didn't have a primary doctor yet, I thought I'd just get checked out at the MinuteClinic. Then the NP looked at me with one of those sideways glances; asking me how many ear infections I've had over the past year. This would be #4 since the previous January. Then she tsk-tsk'd me. "I don't think I can treat you here," she said, clearly referring to her handy MinuteClinic manual. "I think we should send you to an urgent care center." Again, I calmly explained that I'm new here, I didn't know where to go, I had no car. Oh, and 4 ear infections is a small number from the previous amounts I've had over the past few years. And in the mean time, I started to feel anxious. I thought to myself, "WTF? This has now been well over a d*mn minute, and all I want are my antibiotics!" "Please don't send me to the ER or Urgent Care," I told her as I began to feel more and more anxious. "I don't have anyone here to take me. My husband is more than four hours away and I'm new to the area." (Cue tears now.) It seriously didn't help that I felt like crap and I've been known to get over-emotional when I can't think straight. Without going into further detail, let's just say that shortly after the waterworks began the NP decided at that moment to slap a blood pressure (BP) cuff on me. And because by then I'd been at the verge of hyperventilating from all the anxiety ... let's just say I broke the 2o0 mark with my Systolic and the 120 mark on the diastolic. Then the NP really freaked out, which in turn freaked me out even more. And when my BP didn't go down after 1o minutes? Yep, that's when she made the call to 911. Okay, so the nurse in me knew that this was the only course of action to take. Especially for someone why was experiencing hypertensive urgency symptoms. But that didn't stop me from just about begging the NP to let me find my own way to an urgent care center or an ER. "If I can just get back home," I told her, "I'll call my nearest family member (an aunt and cousins from my side, a cousin from Hubby's side) to come pick me up." But alas, the NP was smart enough not to listen to me ... I mean seriously, what if I passed out on the train on the way back to my place? Or worse, what if I passed out alone at home without anyone knowing? So yes ... the nurse in me knew, despite the supreme embarrassment of having the NP and the subsequent EMTs (from this fine city's fire department) know that I'm an RN that can't even take care of herself. That I had to be escorted to an ER to get checked out. But ... at least I managed to get cute firemen and EMTs to come to the CVS and literally pick me up. And even though I rolled out of the store, wrapped up in a silly blanket ... they all had me cracking up as they insisted I do the "queen wave." I was subsequently taken to the nearest ER ... with all the bells and whistles of the ambulance, to boot ... where I spent the next few hours being looked over and treated by some wonderful doctors** and nurses. My lab studies were okay, which meant I didn't develop any kidney (or other organ) damage from such high BP readings. And eventually my systolic BP came down to under 200 after having received some anti-hypertensive drugs through my IV. It turns out that I was experiencing side effects from abruptly stopping a particular medication. A drug that I had stopped taking three days ago because I couldn't afford to refill the prescription. Because the stupid frickin' frackin' Employee Services Department at my former employer (who happened to be a Health Insurance Company) decided to terminate my medical benefits ... which, for an RN who has been working for them and helping their customers weed through the system to understand what can and can't be covered ... really pissed me off. And the thing is, I knew I had health insurance to the end of this month because I researched this before I left. And I knew that this was one of my employee benefits from working at this particular Health Insurance Comany. (Hello ... not dumb here!***) But more on that, perhaps in another post. Anyway ... Because of the panic that ensued during my trip to the (more-than-I-bargained-for) MinuteClinic ... Hubby managed to book a flight out and arranged for his cousin (who lives in the suburbs) to come stay with me in the ER. He also managed to contact my parents who, in turn arranged for my cousin to sit with me until Hubby could get into town. And for that ... I couldn't be more grateful. And seriously? It's amazing how one moment I went from feeling all alone and terrified to feeling incredibly loved and supported. Just by being there to talk to me and keep me company, the two of them helped calm my nerves and soothe my anxiety. It certainly helped that Hubby's cousin is also an RN who I could clearly trade medical jokes with ... and that my cousin was all game for checking out the cute ER doctors and residents with me. (Hey, I was sick ... not blind!) In any case, I can't even begin to express all the gratitude I have for them in just a few sentences. Because seriously? These people proved to me that I don't have to feel so alone out here ... that they are available to help out while Hubby still wraps things up back home. I am truly lucky ... Hubby did end up coming in to town, except it wasn't until after I was discharged from the ER. My cousin drove me back to our place where my Aunt and other cousin (her mom and sister) came to bring us dinner. The four of us sat around (in my furniture-less place) watching Am.erican Id.ol on the TV (and then Ir.on Man on blue-ray .... ooooh!) until Hubby drove in from the airport. And once I was in his arms ... well, the world melted away. While I felt incredibly bad that he had to drop what he was doing to come be by my side, I was just incredibly happy and relieved that he was next to me. Oh and remember that advertisement for a local hospital system I saw on the train? Well ... of all places, the EMTs took me to that hospital. I guess seeing that ad yesterday morning was literally a sign of things to come. But hey, at least now I know a few good docs in the area!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* Google Maps is one of the greatest inventions for those that aren't familiar with public transportation in a big city. This is has been a life-saver for me during these car-less times! ** Ironically, one of my docs name was "Trigger." As in "Let's come up with a trigger diagnosis. Or "That doctor is known for his Trigger finger when ordering labs and studies." Or better yet, "The guy is trigger-happy when giving those IV meds" Seriously, the list could go on and on ... *** Okay, well maybe just a little ... After all, who's the idiot that ended up in the emergency room?

Over Pressured

Emily — Mon, 26 Jan 2009 04:46:47 +0000

Thank you for everyone who asked or emailed me about how I am doing. Really, your genuine concern for my well-being is nothing short of amazing and wonderful. So ... let me tell you the story as to exactly why my BP got so high that I ended up the ER. It all started with a trip to the local pharmacy the Sunday before MLK Jr Day soI could transfer and refill a couple of my prescriptions to this new location. While I didn't need to fill my blood pressure pills at this moment, I did need to fill one particular pill. Unfortunately when it came to processing my health insurance, the pharmacy's computer showed that my contract was inactive. I quickly explained to her that I recently moved to the area and my health insurance from my new employer wouldn't kick in until the beginning of next month. However, my insurance from my former employer should be active until the end of this month. So the pharmacy tech tried calling my insurance company (which, by the way ... also happens to be my former employer), but apparently their pharmacy Help Desk was "closed." The only thing she could recommend was to call my former employer on the next business day or pay for the prescriptions up front and get reimbursed afterwards. I may have considered paying up front for the prescriptions, except one of the medications was currently not available in generic form. That meant that the drug cost for that medication would most likely be outrageously high. How high, might you ask? Well ... $500 high. So yeah, I opted to hold off until I talked to my former employer. And because that Monday was a holiday, the next business day would be Tuesday. That Sunday night, I recall lying down and feeling a little dizzy. I thought that perhaps I was coming down with some sort of cold, especially since I had been out in sub-zero temperatures the week before. By Monday night, not only did I feel like the room was spinning but I was feeling nauseated as well. Despite that, I managed to make it onto the train and into work the next day ... well, at least until my manager took one look at me and sent me home. So I hopped back onto the train, which seemed like it was the longest and slowest train ride, and headed back. Which, why is it that whenever you feel sucky ... things seem to go in slow motion?! Anyhoo ... that time away from work at least gave me the opportunity, among other things, to call the Employee Service line at my former employer. Not only had my health insurance expired (which, as a benefit of my employment, was supposed to be active for the following month after my voluntary termination), but I had not gotten paid for the two weeks of unused vacation days I was supposed to get. Except I couldn't get anyone "live" on the phone. Nor could I the following eight or so times I called over the next three days. To top it off, my first paycheck from my new job never made it to my new address. It was supposed to come Friday, but never made it. And by Saturday, when it didn't come ... I knew I had to make a call to my NEW Employee Service Dept on the next business day. Except the next business day was Tuesday. After MLK Jr Day. The day I left early because I felt sick, and forgot to call before I left work. And didn't have the new number at home. And we all know what happened on Wednesday. So let's see ... where did I stand on Wednesday night? Sick. In the ER. After being transported there by a 911 call. Because I was going through severe withdrawal symptoms. From a medication I couldn't refill. Because the cost of the drug was too high. And my former employer terminated my insurance. And didn't pay me for my vacation time I earned. Nor did I get paid from my new employer. Whose insurance benefit didn't kick in for me until the beginning of next month. Oh, and let's just add to the fact that I'm new to the city. And Hubby is back in Michigan. Hmmm ... somehow, methinks stress and anxiety was another reason for the extremely high blood pressure. And where am I at today? Well, my blood pressure is now down to the 150's over 70-80's. Thanks, in part to the $500 I shelled out Thursday for the medication. As for my paycheck from my new job ... well, when I went back into work on Friday and told my story to my manager, she got right on the ball to help work her magic. So I should expect a new check to be cut for me by this week Tuesday. As for my former employer ... I managed to get a hold of my previous supervisor to ask if she knew anyone I could speak to directly in the HR or Payroll Departments. She gave me two good contacts, one who happened to be the Director of HR for Employee Services. I promptly called the number for the HR Director and ended up speaking to her Admin Assistant. I relayed her my story and she immediately took it upon herself to track her boss down or someone else who might be able to help me. Unfortunately everyone, including her boss, was in a meeting. However, she did promise to relay my message to her and follow-up with me on Monday. Whew, I thought. At least I had gotten someone "live" to talk to about these issues and I've got a direct number to a person I could talk to on Monday if I didn't here anything by then. Later than Thursday evening, I finally got a return phone call back from the Employee Services phone line. I explained to her my situation and what I had believed my insurance benefit was after a voluntary termination. And this gal, in turn told me that she didn't know where I got my information from, but I was wrong. "Regardless of that fact," I said to her, "I should have been offered COBRA but I never got that information on how to apply." Well, it turns out they have 45 days after termination to offer me that benefit and, as she so blithely told me that it was the beginning of the new year and that they're "in the middle of processing many new insurance contracts. And quite frankly, your issue isn't one of our priorities." Uhm. Yeah. You bet I was on the phone calling the Director of HR for Employee Services. And because it was after 5:30 pm, I was expecting to just leave a voice mail on her phone. But, as luck would have it ... she picked up the phone. I explained to her my situation and how I came to get her phone number. And I explained to her my experience with the person at the Employee Services line. She, in turn, told me that her Admin Assistant did relay my story to her and she was in the process of trying to investigate the situation. She also told me that there have been issues with any of the employees that voluntarily left our company over the past month. And that's because on January 1st, my old company officially "merged" with our parent company. For that reason, the parent company has apparently been giving misleading information and terminating benefits of those former employees of the company that I used to work directly for. Unfortunately, I just happen to be one of those lucky former employees that this affects. What she did promise to me was that she would direct my issues to one of her managers to deal with it as a priority. I thanked her profusely for her time and the explanation she provided to me. I hung up the phone with her feeling a little better. And while I knew that things wouldn't get resolved right away, just knowing that I wasn't going completely insane calmed me down a bit. So imagine my surprise on Friday morning when I got a phone call from a manager in HR from my former company. She did confirm the issues that my former company has been having with the parent company and she stated that she is continuing to work with them regarding my insurance benefits. She explained that I may have to pay for some of the services, but expect to be reimbursed for any services that would normally be approved. As for my vacation time pay-out ... well, she managed to solve that issue earlier that morning, and that I should expect a check to be mailed out within the next couple business days. Whew. So while everything is not completely solved, I'm glad that I was able to get some much needed answers. And hey ... to know that the money I've earned in both my previous and current jobs is heading my way? Well, trust me ... that's a big worry off my mind. Especially as I know I'll have more health care related bills (-ie- ambulance service, ER services ... and not to mention MinuteClinic services) coming my way. So that's my story for the past week. I'm just incredibly happy that I survived it ... mentally and physically. And that my blood pressure, although not completely normal, is considerably lower than what it was last Wednesday.

Hubby & Emily Plus ... ??

Emily — Tue, 27 Jan 2009 04:17:17 +0000

I don't know what it is, but just like Wordgirl, I am drawn to yet repelled by Jo.n & Ka.te Pl.us 8. Actually, I'm more drawn to it rather than repelled.

I'm sure part of it is the whole Asian bit; as Jo.n is half-Korean. And I'm sure it's the whole twin fascination thing I've always had. Except it's not really the twin "look-alike" thingy ... it's more the science aspect of it. The whole nature vs. nurture thing. It's just frickin' amazing to see how all eight children who share such strong genetic traits have such distinct and unique personalities. And I'm sure the whole "repelling" part of it is simply the fact that Hubby & I can't experience even one-eigth of what they have. While I'd love to have a household full of kids, I'd be happy with even just one. As in one of the eight Go.sselin children. (I'd love to take Cara or maybe Aa.den or Hannah ...) I can't quite be angry at Jo.n and Ka.te. After all, they also had issues trying to conceive. Like myself, Kate was diagnosed with PCOS. However, unlike Hubby & me ... she and Jon were successful. Obviously. So yesterday after Hubby left to go back home, I was left to my own devices. And seeing that I finally got cable in the bedroom, I promptly plopped myself in front of the TV and started to flip channels. I finally settled onto TLC and watched a marathon of Jo.n & Ka.te episodes. Like a moth to a flame ... (Or more appropriately, like a fly to a bug zapper ... ) As I watched the episodes, there happened to be one particular commercial that would run in between TV breaks. And it got to me ... Every. Single. Time. Perhaps it was because I was missing my husband. Perhaps it was because I was watching a show that involved raising children. Perhaps it's because it was because this commercial reminded me about something I will never be able to experience.

Or perhaps it's because as much as I wish I could give my husband that gift ... that moment in life ... I will never be able to.

And that breaks my heart ...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9E4J8lFn5PI]

25 Random Things

Emily — Thu, 29 Jan 2009 03:59:21 +0000

Okay, so I'm being completely lazy here. But since I posted this on my Facebook page, I might as well do this here too.

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I'm not too big on these things, but I would like to know more about my friends so if you have time, fill this out and at least tag me so I can learn more about you. :)

25 Random Things to Share

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people (yeah, right!!) to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

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Alrighty then ... here goes:

I'm a big procrastinator. As I recently commented on a friend's Facebook status, I put the "crass" in procrastinate. .
I could sleep ten hours a day if given the opportunity. It's not for wanting to, or for being lazy ... I just constantly feel like I never get that "good night's sleep." .
I never thought I'd marry a person from the same culture that I grew up in. But yet I did ... and I hold that over my Mom whenever she brings up what a "horrible kid I was." My response always is ... "well, at least I married a Filipino!" .
Speaking of Hubby ... he was my first date ever. We went to the Homecoming Dance at each other's high school when I was sixteen. But we didn't start dating until after I graduated from high school. .
Hubby is my absolute best friend in the entire world. People may think it's strange that I want to spend every moment of my life with him, but it's the honest to God's truth. .
I always thought I wouldn't marry until I was in my late 20's and have my first child before I was 30. Instead, I got married at 24 and, to this date, still don't have any children. But trust me ... it's not for lack of trying. .
I used to think that if you set your mind to a specific goal and worked hard at it, you'd always achieve that goal. But now I'm smart enough to know that's not always true. Going through infertility treatments has taught me that. .
And because of #7, infertility has knocked down my self-confidence and self-esteem. While they're not completely gone from my life, they're certainly not as prominent as they were in college or those first two post-college years. Okay, enough sad things ... .
In high school, I was voted "Class New Waver." Yes, I grew up in the 80's. And listened to a lot of Depeche Mode. And New Order. And Smiths. And the list can go on and on. But I still think New Wave and Goth music can put some of these Emo bands to shame ... .
Being who I was "labeled" in high school ... it's actually quite funny that I've always had this secret wish to be either a cheerleader or on the dance team. (Yes, I can hear y'all groaning now.) But I think it's more because I wanted to break out of the Asian "nose-always-in-books" mold and be more "American." .
Speaking of my "Asian"-ness ... I've pretty much gotten mistaken for every Asian nationality out there ... including Indian, Pakistani, and Sri Lankan. I've also gotten mistaken for American Indian and Guatemalen. Oh, and once someone mistook me for an Eskimo. .
I've always wanted to be a writer or a journalist. Except the Filipino side of me keeps telling me that I could never make a living out of it. (Grrr ... I wish my parents' voice would stop infiltrating my brain!) .
Which is why I like to keep a blog: http://apronstringsemily.wordpress.com/ .
And why I like to keep advertising it. (Tee hee ... there's two things "wasted!) .
In my immediate family, I'm the one that's the sports nut. You'd think it would be my older brother ... but I'm the one who watches the most hockey and basketball and football. .
I'd blame my husband for my love of sports, but it truly started in grade school after catching my first Red Wings game at a school outing. .
I met my oldest friend (although we hardly keep in contact anymore) in kindergarten. I still have a picture of us dressed up with paper bunny ears and a painted bunny nose for Easter. .
My closest friends are those that I don't even see that often ... Thank God for Facebook and the internet. .
And speaking of Facebook ... I've managed to keep in touch with lots of my cousins this way. And I've managed to get in contact with quite a few high school and even grade school friends! .
So ... my hope is to continue to keep these friendships going. After all ... it seems like the older I get, the harder it is to make new friends. . (Seriously? I've gotta come up with five more?! Okay ... I'll scrounge.) .
I was a Brownie and a Girl Scout up until 6th grade. And I can't believe that GS cookes now cost four bucks a box. Sheesh ... they sold for under a dollar when I sold them. .
When I was little, I wished that I could have a more "common" name like "Jenny" or "Elizabeth" because all my friends were named that. Now I wish my name wasn't the most popular name out there. .
I'm predominantly right-handed ... but there are certain things I do with my left hand. Like brush my teeth. And knit. .
Yes, that's right. I knit. I've only done bags, scarves and hats and baby stuff. Maybe even a sweater or two. But it's something that I find rather comforting. . (And finally ... ) .
I suck at multi-tasking. Which is probably why I'm really good at procrastinating.

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Whew ... that's the list. If you've stuck around to read all of this, I applaud you. And no ... I'm not tagging anyone. I just thought this would be a fun thing to share with everyone ...

Time To Hug A Filipino

Emily — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 23:00:51 +0000

For those of you that didn't know ... today was a FaceBook "Hug A Filipino" Day. Except since I'm too new to this area, I've not gotten any hugs today. Which has been made worse since I haven't even been able to give my favorite Pinoy ... Hubby, of course ... a great big bear hug. (Alright everyone ... I wanna here a collective "Awwwwrrr ...." :-P ) But before you go about sending hugs my way, I want to ask you to click over to this blog and give this wonderfully awesome incredible and brilliant woman a hug. She. Deserves. It. Definitely more than I do today. And it breaks my heart that she has to go through this. So pop on over and show her some bloggie love. And maybe if we give her enough love, she'll continue to write ... and stay in our little corner of the blogiverse (hint hint ...) Okay, back to my regularly scheduled nonsense. I've been on this Facebook kick lately (as evidenced by my last post). And while I've been on there for the past couple years, it only seems like over the past few months I've been finding more and more "old" friends from grade school all the way up to my first post-college job. It's been fun catching up with them and seeing what they've been up to since the last time we talked to each other. I've totally enjoyed perusing through all their pictures; many of them old photos of when they were young. There were even some pictures of me at that age. And trust me ... seeing those early to mid 80's photos just had me rolling on the floor! Of course, many of them are now married. No ... not all of them have children, but I'd say the majority of them do. Not only do many of them have one child but two ... or more. And seeing those pictures of their family? It amazes me how some of their kids look *so much* like them; some of them mirror images of how I remembered them in our youth. I didn't bring this up to grumble about my childless situation. Or how Hubby and I haven't been able to produce a biological child of our own. That is simply our reality. Unfortunately. No ... the difficult part of reconnecting with these friends and seeing these pictures is seeing how much their lives have changed. And seeing how much having children have enriched their lives. Or how much their daily occurrences revolve around their family. How even reading their "status updates" tend to reflect what's going on in their household; whether their child is sick or what fun (or even not-so-fun) activities they've done that day. My wish is that my life could have some of that flurry of activity ... some of that day-to-day action. And although I am an admitted procrastinator, I tend to work much better under pressure ... and thrive on it. While I know that having a child will definitely add extra "stress" to anyone's life, what I long for is that consistent inconsistency of every day life. Those twists and turns that make the days just a little different than one another. That don't make the days go by as if it's once again "Time to make the doughnuts," a-la-Dunkin' Donuts.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwfrBbNo5Jg]

That last statement does not mean that my daily life with Hubby is routine. If anything these past few months with the new job, subsequent move and current living-in-different-cities has definitely been far from "the norm." And our immediate future, once we're together under the same roof, will definitely be a series of new adventures. But once things settle down ... then what? Will my new job suddenly become just "a job" again? What new things can we experience once we've explored our new city? Will Hubby & I once again fall back into the "Fred the Baker" routine? I guess that's what I'm terrified of. That I'll revert back to a daily "nothing ever changes" routine. That I'll once again feel "stuck" with where I'm at in life. That Hubby and I will be standing along the sidelines observing everyone else ... all those old friends and family members ... move forward to new milestones, new achievements in their lives. When, quite frankly, we'd rather be active participants ourselves. But enough of this bellyaching for now. Instead, I'm going to head back out into my FaceBook world and virtually hug every Filipino I know. Because who knows when the next "Hug A Filipino Day" will come around!

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Emily — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 04:57:04 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 04 Feb 2009 04:59:14 +0000

Analysis Paralysis

Emily — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 23:03:05 +0000

Yesterday evening Hubby & I had a pretty deep conversation about my post from the other day. And when I mean deep ... I mean, it resulted quite a heated exchange. I'm sure a lot of it was that we haven't been able to spend more than four days together over the past month. And when we do physically see each other, it seems as if we're only doing things for our new place ... waiting for the utility people to come, running to Ikea to get some basic furniture and putting together said furniture, etc ... It didn't help that I had a really rough day at work earlier. Nor did it help that Hubby has been running ragged between both our places since the end of last year. And that he has been working non-stop and sleeping little as well. All of this added up to a discussion surrounding my last post. Hubby's initial reaction to the post was that he was worried. Worried, in the fact, that this move to a new area was all for naught. That if having a child for us was that important, then maybe we should have gone the adoption route first before moving. That if this was the case, then rather than worrying and stressing about the finances of moving to a new place, we should have been worrying and stressing over the adoption process instead. But that wasn't the intent, as I tried to explain to him. The intent was that I expressed worry that in a few years, when things settle down ... I might revert back to the overly anxious, highly strung person that I had been for years before this move. That my constant worrying about our distant future would come back once the excitement of this new adventure wore off. What if everything became routine again? What if all we ever did was go to work and come back home? What if I fell into the trap again of being afraid to take that next step ... whether it was adoption or something else ... in fear of falling back down into a black hole of nothing? And as far as the childless situation we are currently in ... I told him that at this moment in our lives, I knew that I wasn't in the frame of mind both physically and emotionally to head down the adoption right now. It's just that, like him ... I'm a constant worrier. Hubby then brought up that our worries are different from one another. While his worry is "real," mine is more or less"anticipated." Initially I was pretty upset about that statement, but the truth is he is absolutely right. I mean really ... as evidenced by the paragraph above ... I am already worrying about the "what if's" and not focusing on the immediate future. [caption id="attachment_1293" align="alignright" width="229" caption="A typical Risk Analysis Flowchart"][/caption] And while at a meeting with my Director today, she said something that really hammered home for me. She said that sometimes in the process of trying to improve things, she gathers data from every place that she possibly can in order to get a feel for certain situations and to plan for future endeavors. And in the midst of it all, many times she gets to a point where she can't even logically think straight. She says she always tries to find the best way to avoid all bad situations even though she knows she can't anticipate every single wrong situation. Yeah, she admitted to us, how very unrealistic and simply impossible. Anyways, it's a term she calls "Analysis Paralysis." So yeah, that's totally me right now. Obsessing over something I have no control over. But can you blame me? Certain circumstances in my life (read: infertility) have shaped me in to the person I am today. If it wasn't for having to give myself mind, body and soul to the uncontrollable and unpredictable world of in vitro fertilization (IVF) ... which ended up with literally and figuratively a major negative outcome ... I don't think I would be as "obsessed" with constantly trying to avoid falling into any type of bad situation. Which means, that like my Director, I've been trying to anticipate every single bad situation. All in the effort to avoid feeling, once again, as if the world dropped out from under me. Yep ... I'm completely and utterly in the midst of an acute episode of Analysis Paralysis.

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Emily — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 23:49:57 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 23:54:12 +0000

205

Emily — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 23:55:07 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 00:04:33 +0000

Can't. Stop. Facebooking.

Emily — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 01:26:42 +0000

Whew. What a weekend. But it was a fun weekend, that's for sure. I flew home to Detroit this past Friday for the purpose of taking my Mom out for her birthday. And for the added bonus, our good friend J's birthday was also on Saturday. He planned an outing to celebrate his birthday at the local Dave & Busters and had extended the invitation to me. However, in efforts to surprise him I told him that I wasn't going to be able to make it as I had to work on Saturday. So when I showed up Saturday evening, he was caught off guard. It was great to see his expression and was wonderful to catch up with him. And yesterday, Hubby & I took my parents out to brunch this wonderful breakfast place by our homes. We sat, relaxed and caught up with all the going ons in our lives. They had just come back from Vegas and looked incredibly relaxed and happy. And Hubby & I filled them in on our new digs and I told them about my job. I also managed to spend the whole weekend doing laundry. Yep; that's right. Laundry. You see, our apartment does have a washer and dryer, except it hasn't exactly been working. So ... knowing that I had to take my laundry out of the building to get it washed and still have to pay for the machines ... well, I figured I'd send a whole bin-full of dirty clothes home with Hubby last weekend and do my laundry for free at home! So now instead of having one carry-on of stuff (including this wonderful lappie of mine), I will be returning with a second carry-on bag. And Hubby will now have to bring the rest of the clean cloths back with him next weekend. I've told him that it could be his Valentine's Day gift for me. (Woo-hoo! Clean underwear!! :-) ) The other thing I had done this past weekend (in between activities and laundry loads) was do a whole bunch of scanning of old photos. I'd been wanting to do this for awhile, but ... 1) I had no scanner with me in the new digs, and 2) all the old photos were still back in Detroit. So being at home this past weekend afforded me the time to do some scanning. And the added bonus was that I could start uploading some of these photos onto my Facebook (FB) page. Well, seeing all the comments from people that I had "tagged" on these photos has been a total hoot! It's totally brought back so many fond memories of my youth all the way up to those initial post-college / pre-wedding days. I realize that I've been totally addicted to FB lately. And I'm sure the reason is three-fold. One is because I've enjoyed keeping in touch with my family; Dr. Bro & Dr. SIL as well as my SIL and her Hubby. Yes, I realize how ironic that is ... that I've managed to stay more "in-tuned" with my SIL since moving away from the area. But like we've both said in passing at one time or another, perhaps distance is what's best for now. Besides, I know she's been swamped with school (she's going back for Nursing) and with caring both Kairi and Tyler. And I know I've been just a "tad" overwhelmed with my new job. At least on FB, we can do a quick status update to get an idea of what's going on in our lives. As for Dr. Bro and Dr. SIL ... since they live clear across the country, this has been such a great (and inexpensive) way to "talk" to one another; to share with each other daily things. And plus, Dr. SIL *now* gets to see some pics of her Hubby in his youth. Ha! The second reason I've been pretty active on FB is because I've been getting back in touch with all those friends I've lost touch with over the years. Many of them were friends I was really close with in high school; two of which I still get to see every once in a while, and a third who now literally lives a block and a half away from me. (It's actually quite funny that we've chatted on FB and have even "Skype"-ed it one evening ... when we could literally be at each others' place in a matter of minutes!) Then there are those grade school and childhood friends ... the ones I haven't seen in decades. Those ones have been fun to see how much we've changed from then ... and how we have so many of the same recollection of events. And seeing those photos of us? Yeah ... what a blast! Finally, the third reason I've been on FB is because I am simply in a new location without Hubby and have not established any new friendships in the area. And FB has been a way for me to socialize for the time-being. Oh, I know I've got cousins and my great HS friend here ... but establishing new connections, new friendships? That hasn't happened immediately. Yet. I'm sure it doesn't help that I'm constantly at work. And while I have established some connection with a few people, being the "new kid" in both the company and the general area -- let alone a "newbiew" in a leadership position -- it's been difficult trying to "feel" people out. And to be felt up in return. (Yeah, so that came out wrong ... tee-hee!) Realistically, I know that this won't come straight away and that I need to give it time. I just find it strange how tough it's become to establish new friendships. Seriously ... it's sometimes hard enough to maintain a connection with those people who might not be aware of the childless situation we're in. Sometimes it's difficult for either side of a friendship to understand the circumstances surrounding any situation either of us are in or have been in. Imagine trying to establish this connection with anyone new. Yeah, like I said ... "difficult." But. I just so you know, I am making an effort. I am continuing to be the happy and humerous person I know I can be (and have been, of late). I am trying to show my quirky personality. And I am open in sharing my experiences with infertility to anyone who asks. And maybe that's why some people shy away, not knowing what to do or how to relate to my childless situation. But I'm cautiously optimistic that they will only see the infertile side of my life as only part of my overall makeup as an individual. So yes. Wow. I am making that effort to step out of my Infertility Shell. And by doing that, I've found myself thinking less and less of it from week to week, month to month. I'm hoping that it continues to head that way. And that I will finally not let my infertility rule my overall life. But until then ... until I befriend Oprah or Jerry Springer, or any other major celeb in the area that might grant me access to the upper eschelon of society (yeah, right!) ... I have a feeling I will continue to spend a lot of my social time on FB.

Soul Writer

Emily — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 00:23:27 +0000

It's amazing what 60-plus degree weather in the middle of winter can do for the soul. And is it me? But does everything seem to run smoothly on a beautiful day like today? Like the trains, for instance. I left my place this morning at the same time I normally do. Walked the same distance to the train platform. Took the same train. Made the same trek from the station to my office building. But ... it took fifteen minutes less than it normally does. Maybe it was the added skip to my step. Maybe I was simply enjoying the walk outside in fresh air. Maybe it's seeing quite a few different neighbors on my street coming out of hibernation for awhile. Either way, this little glimpse of warm weather has me excited to explore the rest of this city when the weather consistently stays warm. Anyway, the typically 40 (or so) minute train ride into the downtown area affords me the time to do a quite a bit of reading on the way to and from work. Since the beginning of the year, I've managed to read all three books in the "Wicked" series by Gregory Macguire. (I'm telling you ... the musical was awesome. But the book series is d*mn good ... and quite a bit darker, too.) And now, I'm trying to finish "Confessions of a Shopaholic" by Sophie Kinsella before the movie comes out. And even though I fully expect the book to be much better than the movie, I want to see it because I just love Isla Fisher. But getting back to the book ... I have to admit that I'm laughing my butt off and simply cowering with fear. Laughing, because the main character gets into these situations that are so impossibly hilarious. Terrified, because some of those situations she gets herself in are because of irresponsible exploits on her part ... things I may have done in the past (especially as it relates to "denying" my anger and sadness over infertility) and even now, in the present (a-hem, finances ... just like the book). It's also downright spooky how some of those irrational thought processes correlate with my own ludicrous conclusions. Overall though ... I hope that the ending of the book doesn't end up being a major disappointment. And that goes for the movie as well. And while I continue to babble ... where the bloody h*ll was Amer.ican I.dol when I was in high school and college? Maybe then I would have had enough fearlessness and gumption to audition for it. Not that I claim myself to be an excellent singer or musician ... because I'm not. But music was definitely something that was a big part of my childhood life all the way up to college. And then I got into Nursing School ... and music, along with writing was replaced with bedpans and clinical pathways. Okay, so not necessarily strictly bedpans. But you get the point. While I take pride in being a Registered Nut -- I mean, Nurse ... (after all, I worked very hard to get where I am in my career today) this wasn't what I saw myself doing for the rest of my life. Nah, ask me back in high school ... and I would have told you that I wanted to go into journalism or some sort of non-science related career. Or h*ll ... if I thought I was good enough, I would have tossed aside college and gone full fledge into the music scene. I mean, after all ... I had such a stellar career as a sales associate at Music.Land. Ha! Bet that would have thrilled my parents ... In any case, even now I still don't know what I really want to be when I grow up. I always thought that I'd have it figured out by now; with that stellar career still on the rise. Okay, so my current career right now is on the rise ... but then I also imagined that I'd have at least two kids in grade school right now, too. In that scenario, I may still have been in the Nursing career, but really ... hadn't I gone into Nursing because I always thought it would give me a little more flexibility when it came to raising my children? Funny how things never turn out the way you think they will. Regardless of what I've rambled on about these past few paragraphs, I must admit that despite everything that I have experienced in life ... especially over the past 2.5 years ... I don't regret the choices I've made. (Okay, maybe certain actions. But definitely not choices.) Because then I wouldn't be the stronger person I that am today. And that takes a lot out of me just to say that little bit. Whew ... amazing what great weather and a change of scenery can do to one's soul.

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Emily — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 05:49:14 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 05:52:35 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 05:56:02 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 06:06:35 +0000

Puppy Power!!

Emily — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 06:14:07 +0000

I was so excited to go home this past weekend. Not only because I'd be there to celebrate both my Mom's and a good friend's birthday. Or just because I was *so* looking forward to sleeping in my big queen size bed with Hubby sleeping by my side. Nah ... the biggest reason I was excited to go home (besides being with Hubby) was to see my Kozzy. If you don't remember who Kozzy is, she's our 11-year old "puppy-girl" who we joined our family on the day the Red Wings won their first Stanley Cup Championship in 42 years. Hence Kozzy's real name: Kozlov Konstantinov. Kozzy for short. [caption id="attachment_1317" align="alignright" width="254" caption="Kozzy as an *actual* puppy"][/caption] We adopted Kozzy from the "Meet Your Best Friend at the Zoo" Day at the Detroit Zoo. The moment we first laid eyes on her, we fell in love. She was the quietest, meekest puppy we saw, and she appeared so docile. But, boy were we ever fooled. The minute we got her home, Kozzy was all over our house and our backyard. And in true puppy-fashion, she was in to everything. Although she literally failed puppy school (she was labeled "socially aggressive"), Hubby and I can't imagine life without her. And because I wasn't going to be readily available to care for Kozzy in my new digs, Hubby & I decided that she wouldn't move until Hubby moved as well. So yeah, I was excited to see my puppy-girl. When I finally saw her, Kozzy was just like that excited hyperactive puppy she was when we first took her home. Throughout the whole weekend, she didn't want to leave my side ... even if it was to go get the laundry in our basement. And because of that, I just felt totally loved; totally needed. So having to leave her once again, once the weekend was over proved to be pretty difficult. Because not only was I saying goodbye to Hubby for the week, I was also saying bye to Kozzy until the next time I come back into town. I totally miss her and her silly antics ... Okay, so (kinda) switching subjects ... can anyone remember which cartoon character used to shout out "Puppy Power!!"? Yep, it's none other than Scooby Doo's nephew, Scrappy Doo. And the reason I was brought up this particular puppy in this post (other than to somehow tie the story of my Kozzy into this post) is because I recently received an award from one my IF bloggie buddies. So a great big Thank You! to LoriBeth for awarding me the Honest Scrap Award! But with every great award, comes great responsibility ... or is that with great power comes great responsibility? Regardless, the rules of the Honest Scrap Award are as follows:

Choose a minimum of 7 blogs that you find brilliant in content or design.
Show the 7 winners names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with "Honest Scrap." Well, there's no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon.
List at least 10 honest things about yourself.

So let's begin. Hmm ... 10 honest things about me:

I am definitely NOT a morning person. I'm more apt to stay up late and wake up even later. BUT ... if getting up early means I can get to work at an earlier time so I can leave work earlier, then I would drag my sorry tired a$$ to work. .
I love reading all kinds of books. But if given a choice between "War and Peace" and "Shopaholic Takes Manhattan"? I'd definitely choose the latter ... or even some trashy young adult book. Yeah ... I have a thing for Chick Lit and Teen Romance. But what's worse is that ... .
Sometimes when I'm done reading those books, I will return them to the local bookstore and get credit towards buying another book. (I feel like such a dork keeping copies of Meg Cabot teen books on my book shelves ...) I guess you can say it's "almost" like borrowing books from the library. Except instead of a library card, it's a Visa card. .
I consider myself pretty flexible and a go-with-the-flow type of person which, in normal circumstances I am ... but throw a major issue that requires an immediate decision? I freeze up. I become paralyzed with anxiety and fear. .
Along the same "pretty flexible" line ... I always thought I had the ability to see things in shades of grey. Nothing could ever be just black or white. Except if someone or something pushes me too far. Then all I see is that I'm either ABSOLUTELY right (as in "stubborn") or COMPLETELY wrong (as in "stupid"). [caption id="attachment_1319" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Admit it ... Kozzy's adorable!"][/caption]
I have quite a wicked temper. I've gotten better over the years ... thanks, mostly in part of the incredible patience my Hubby has for me. But push my buttons over and over and OVER again ... well, just beware of my wrath. .
I apparently give off this vibe that I'm confident and secure with myself. That I'm a smart and quite knowledgeable person. And that I'm arrogant beyond belief. The truth is ... most of the time I lack a whole lotta self-confidence and question every decision I make. And I've pretty much been like that my whole life. .
While I usually take pride in being unique and unusual individual, there are days I secretly wish I was just like everyone else. .
I have a difficult time speaking up for myself or doing something that I would want to do for myself. And when I do, I feel guilty ... as if I'm being a very selfish person. And finally ... .
Even though I hate to admit it, my Mom was right. I never should have given up piano lessons in 9th grade. Ten years of lessons, and the only song I can fully complete is "Heart and Soul."

So there you go ... 10 Honest Crap that you've always wanted to know about me, if you didn't already. Now hmmm ... who to pass this award on to? Okay, here goes ...

Kate: I know how much she loves doing these memes and she always has such awesome content on her blog, .
Kara: I love her writings (and her, too!) even when the content doesn't necessarily fit the title to her blog. .
Pam: My favorite Wordgirl. I just love the way she writes, as if I was in the midst of reading one of those NON-trashy books I'm addicted to. :-P .
Veriance: She's one of my HS friend. And well ... I'm purely interested in seeing what her *honest* answers are. Also because I have ALWAYS loved reading her stuff ... and am looking forward to reading more. .
Beth: Simply because reading her blog reminds me of being back home in the D. .
KC: As everything I've read on her blog has always been completely raw and honest. And besides ... I'm SO excited for her in her new career path!And finally ... .
Shifty Shadow: There are days that I think she writes exactly how I feel. How much more honest can that get?

Thanks again, LoriBeth ... and thanks for all you readers out there that put up with my sometimes incessant and grandiose dissertations.

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Emily — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 02:38:27 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 02:54:17 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 02:57:53 +0000

"Registered" ... Something or Another

Emily — Wed, 18 Feb 2009 03:12:02 +0000

Lesson learned from CVS located within office building: Never pick the Pringles can at the very front of the display. Once opened this container will inevitably be a just pile of crumpled chips. Well, needless to say I am totally PMS-ing right about now. While I’m normally a sweets and chocolate person, once it’s around that dreaded time o' the month, I am all about the salty. This totally sucks for someone who should be watching her sodium intake due to her history of hypertension. And what does it say for the same person who loves her sweets but is also on Metformin for PCOS? Ha. What a total screw-up I am. Correction. What a completely screwed up Registered NUT I am. Except technically I’m not yet “registered” yet … as a Nurse, that is. At least in the State that I’m currently practicing. While I sent in all my information at the beginning of last month, it appears that this lovely State did not receive my application. Which … may I add was like giving up my first-born child just to apply. But oh wait … perhaps that's the reason they never got it, as I’d never give up my first-born (or any child, for that matter) just to get my RN license. And as always, I digress … Seriously though, not only did I have to send in this whole application form so that the State of Michigan can confirm that I passed my Board Exam (as if showing actual proof by giving them a copy of both my actual State RN license and printing up a copy of the State Government-run website for RN license verification wasn’t enough) … but I also had to have the current Dean of the Nursing school I graduated from complete and sign this form and affix the official Oakland University (Go Golden Grizzlies Pioneers!!) School of Nursing seal on it. But hey … at least I was lucky enough to make photocopies of those documents. Somehow methinks that a photocopy of the fingerprint card I had to submit won’t suffice. So … tomorrow I get to make a lovely trip a little north of where I’m at, to the local YMCA, and get fingerprinted once again. But at least this set will be sent directly to this State’s licensure department. Geez-oh-Pete’s! Pain. In the. A$$. Otherwise, life here has been good. I’ve been enjoying city life and enjoying discovering new places. The one thing that would make it a thousand times better will be when Hubby is up here with me permanently. And the way things look, it might not be until the end of next month now. Boo-hoo. [caption id="attachment_1331" align="alignleft" width="231" caption="Me and this year's V-Day Gift, an UGLY Doll!"][/caption] Hubby was up this past weekend to celebrate the mass-marketing holiday of Valentine’s Day, though. Oh … stuff it, Em. Truth is, I do like V-Day. Not because of cards and gifts and chocolates (although those are nice to get … especially the chocolate part), but because it’s a day that reminds me of the every day reasons I love my Hubby. It’s a day that we joke around about making our 7 pm reservation at Sign of the Beefcarver (which for those non-Metro-Detroiters out there, is like a senior citizens' version of Ponde.rosa). Or how we were going to see the most inappropriate movie that evening; which, coincidently we did! But it’s all in good fun, because we both know deep inside that we don’t need a holiday to remind us of exactly how much we love one another. ** Quick note to my BBF (Best Bloggie Friend) … You have every right to bang your head on the desk or at least slam your fists down after reading that last paragraph. I wish having to read stuff like this didn’t have to hurt so d*mn much right now. And I truly hope you don’t mind my silly ramblings of such. But I promise … that paragraph is the end of this post’s schmooze fest for now. Except for this: Know that I absolutely *love you* and if I could take a magic wand and whisk us away to Hawaii or Fiji or some other exotic location … I totally would. Okay, on to other ramblings … *** But the highlight of our weekend happened as Hubby and I were having lunch at a restaurant in the college town just north of the city. I should preface this by saying that we have this people-watching game that we play. The basis of the game is that we’re supposed to point out various people and name their celebrity “twin” or which celebrity they resemble. For instance: Mother of newborn octuplets with 6 other siblings conceived via IVF equals Angelina Jolie. (By the way, that RE office should be shut down for allowing this woman go through another IVF cycle. Especially since she had a history of FIVE successful IVF cycles with one of them resulting in a set of twins. One of which has autism and two of which have been diagnosed with developmental delays. Okay, off soapbox now ...) Or here's another example: Me in my youth with long hair in braids equals Pocahontas or Princess Tiger Lily (from Peter Pan). Thought you might enjoy this pic ... [caption id="attachment_1329" align="alignright" width="179" caption="Me & Muffin, our family dog"][/caption] So as we’re at this restaurant sitting in a booth with a street-side view, Hubby said, “Hey! That could be ...” And that statement was quickly followed by a gasp. Of course that caused me to turn around rather quickly and look. Just as Hubby exclaimed, “It is!,” I managed to catch a glimpse of none other than Jerry Springer walking by our window with his arms around two older-looking women. Now, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was in the midst of stuffing my face with some delish seafood … I would have totally ran out the door and tried to make him my new best friend. After all, I did say in a previous post that I needed his (or Oprah’s) friendship to get me into the good graces of “high society” in this city. Ha! I know I have now made my cousin’s husband completely jealous of this celebrity sighting. Guess they’ll just have to come and visit so we can actually go to the taping of one of Jerry Springer’s shows. I can see it now … the topic would be “My Love Child is a Product of Octuplet Mom’s Baby Daddy.” JER-RY! JER-RY! JER-RY! (You know your pumping your right arm forward at this very moment … don’t deny it!) Alrighty. Enough babbling for now. I’m now off to devour the other thing I bought while at CVS. Now that Valentine’s is over, it’s time to put out all the goodies for the next major season. That’s right people … it is now officially PEEPS season!!

Little Fifteen

Emily — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 07:26:02 +0000

Okay, so I got tagged for this game on my Facebook page. But it was such a good meme that I had to share it here as well ...

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~ Being the music lover that I am, I have to say that this meme took me about a week to complete. Because seriously people ... it's really hard for me to come up with just 15 influential albums. Hence the reason for the "Honorable Mentions" listed below. Now, before I start ... I must preface this by explaining the year listed in parenthesis after the album. Even though the dates next to it reflect the year the album was released, I might not have heard it until later in life. HOWEVER, the *actual* order in which they are listed is when that particular album became part of my life. And looking back at it now, I can't believe how much these albums have influenced every aspect of my life. Here goes ... RULES: Think of 15 albums, CDs, LPs (if you're over 40) that had such a profound effect on you they changed your life ... Dug into your soul. Music that completely brought you to life whenever you heard it ... Royally affected you, kicked you in the wazoo ... literally socked you in the gut. List those albums below and when you're finish, tag 15 others, including me. Then make sure you copy and paste this part so they also know the drill. So ... let's begin.

Revolver (1966)- The Beatles I have always credited my parents for introducing me to my love of music. This Beatles album, in particular, is the one I remember the most from my childhood. Specifically, I remember singing along to an 8-track copy of those songs on a 1977 trip down to Disney World. To this day, I can't help but smile every time I hear "Yellow Submarine." .
Bad Girls (1979) - Donna Summer It wasn't until listening to "Machine Soul: An Odyssey into Electronic Dance Music" (2000) that I remembered how much Donna Summer influenced my taste in Electronic music. This is one of those albums that I have a distinct memory of being drawn into the beats and bass of each song without any influence from anybody (read: older brother) or anything (radio stations) else. In fact, ask my aunt or my mom ... they will tell you how I refused to let them leave some department store (can't remember which) just because I wanted to hear the rest of the album. I was 8 years old at the time. (Side note: If you listen to M.I.A.'s latest album "Kala" you can clearly hear the influence this 1979 album has on music today.) .
Back in Black (1980) - AC/DC What can I say? I was brought up amongst the "head-bangers" of Madison Heights and Warren. Seriously, many of my neighborhood friend's were constantly introducing hard rock into our sphere of musical tastes (which is why there's still something about Def Leppard that gets me going). But THIS album ... Total. Rock Out. Music. Nothing gets you off your a$$ like listening to the first guitar riffs of "Back in Black." .
Purple Rain (1984) - Prince The movie, the songs ... this album threw me completely out of my MJ "Thriller" phase into truly magnificent song writing; amazing arrangements and incredibly un-PG rated lyrics for a 12-year old Catholic school girl. .
Duran Duran (1981) - Duran Duran Here's the start of my obsession with New Wave. And I'm not talking about the overplayed (but definitely well-manufactured) "Rio" album. Their first studio album is filled with incredible bass lines and (of course) synth rock. Everything from Planet Earth to the instrumental "Tel Aviv" screams frilly "New Romantic" shirts and heavy 80's eye make-up. .
Some Great Reward (1984) - Depeche Mode Why this album over the incredibly influential "Black Celebration"? Mainly because I remember the day that my older brother brought that cassette tape home and played it on our "Minus-One" karaoke machine. It's like I finally understood what it was that I truly loved about heavy drum and bass beats and deep dark vocals/lyrics ... Not to mention all those synth-based industrial clips was something I had never ever heard before in any other songs with such catchy beats. .
Standing at the Beach (1986) - The Cure Even though my first taste of The Cure was with their album "The Head on the Door," this cumulative album of their works up to this period got me caught up with all Robert Smith's works. Who, of course, ultimately wrote probably the pinnacle song of my existence, "Picture of You." .
The Queen is Dead (1986) - The Smiths What can I say? This album is everything a 14-year old full of hormonal angst needed to survive during those incredible times of self-loathing and loneliness. .
Kick - INXS (1987) I know, right? Why this INXS album, their most overplayed, commercially successful album? Why not "Shabooh Shoobah" (which I first heard back in 1983) or "Listen Like Thieves," which really got me into the band? The simple answer is this: It's an incredibly well-written album; one which merges the two absolute best parts of their music ... the R&B of "Shabooh" and the Rock & Roll of "Thieves" ... .
Computer World (1981) - Kraftwerk Okay, so I don't actually remember exactly when I started listening to Kraftwerk. I do remember hearing "Tour de France" on the "Breakin'" movie soundtrack and completely being enthralled with it. I probably stumbled onto this album in 1987 or 1988 when seeing the video for "Pocket Calculator" during MTV's 120 Minutes and managed to get a "Maxell 90-minute cassette tape" copy of it. I suppose you can say that this album, along with "Tour de France" was my first foray into Techno and ultimately Detroit Techno. .
Substance (1987) - New Order Again, here's another cumulative works album of a band that I first heard with their "Brotherhood" album. Substance, however, differed in the fact that they provided the penultimate remixes of their most well-known hits. (Although, I still maintain that I love "Brotherhood's" version of "Blue Monday" better.) It definitely beat trying to find those 12-inch remixes at the original "Off The Record" or "Sam's Jams" back in the day. .
Nevermind (1991)- Nirvana I admit it. This album made the list purely because it brings me back to those college years and the whole Alt Rock scene ... even though I credit The Pixies "Surfer Rosa" as probably the album that brought true Alternative Rock (none of this post-Nirvana fan-dangled alterna-rock sh*t) to the forefront for me. There's just something about "Smells Like Teen Spirit" that brings me back to the days of working at OU's college radio station and many beer-laden nights. .
Amplified Heart (1994) - Everything But The Girl I was first introduced to EBTG with the soundtrack to the John Hughes movie, "She's Having A Baby." Yes "Apron Strings" is the song of which my blog is based on. However, this album for me is where Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt begin to transition over from their Euro-R&B sound to Electronica; both sounds of which I absolutely adore. .
No Strings Attached (2000) - N'Sync Yes, I know. Why would the "Class New Waver" like something so mainstream? Actually it's more about the fact that here's an album that I truly wanted to buy after almost a half a decade of not listening to or even buying music. The years between the last album on my list and this one were spent focusing on married life and my career. This album is the one I credit for getting me back into music again. Coincidentally, did you know that this is the highest selling album of all times, selling 2.4 million the first week it was released? Shortly after (in 2001), iTunes and the iPod came into existence; bringing digital downloads and sales into the forefront of the way people bought and listened to music. .
Elephant (2003) - White Stripes Here's another one of those albums that got me back into really listening to music. Specifically music of the Rock genre. There's something incredibly simple, yet complicated, about the music of Jack and Meg that had me enthralled with their musical arrangements.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

The Hurting (1983) -Tears For Fears Goth meets New Wave. Even at 13 yrs old, I was already into the deep and dark "Mad World" of haunting lyricism. .
Twitch (1986) - Ministry My first taste of Industrial music. "Over The Shoulder" is one of those cult "City Club" classics (along with "Everyday is Halloween") that you just can't live without. .
Substance (1988) - Joy Division After getting into New Order's Substance album, I had to go back and know the history behind the band. Of course, that brought me to Joy Division and "Love Will Tear Us Apart." Completely kicked "Bauhaus" off the top of my favorite "Goth" bands. Seriously. Nothing like listening to Ian Curtis lyrics to make you wanna curl up in a ball and disappear. .
Surfer Rosa (1988) - The Pixies Rather than explain again, see #12 above. .
Pretty Hate Machine (1989) - Nine Inch Nails Nothing ... and I repeat nothing can beat any other NIN album since. I don't care how incredibly revolutionary or successful any of Trent's later albums were. I still consider this one of my favorite Industrial albums of all times. .
Speakerboxxx/The Love Below (2003) - Outkast Don't get me wrong, I like Hip Hop, but I'm not in love with it. This album though ... totally everything I ever wanted in a Hip Hop album. .
Arular (2005) - M.I.A. Another one of those mid-2000's that really stands out in the oversaturated market of Hip Hop. Plus she's Asian. And she just rocks! .
Appetite for Destruction (1987) - Guns 'N Roses Notice how chronologically this album is last on my list? Meaning I truly did not appreciate this album for what it is until recently. I've always had a thing for breaking down music to it's most basic form; listening to each instrument individually and then seeing how it's arranged in the overall composition of a song or entire album. While I absolutely hated this album in high school when it first came out, I am completely floored by it today. Axl may be totally crazy ... but seriously, this album is in-f*ckin-credible.

So that's my list. Nowhere all comprehensive of all the different types of music I enjoy. This totally skips over my love of Electronica music; specifically deep house and home-grown Detroit Techno. And my love for compilation albums such as soundtracks and tribute albums. But hey ... I figured it already took me a week to come up with this list. And it's as good as it'll ever be. Okay, now it's you're turn. Not that you have to do this, but I'm gonna tag you just because I'm curious to see what your choices would be. SO ... if you so choose to accept this mission, will the following people list their top 15 albums?

Kara, Kate, Io, Shinejil, Pam, Christina, and Barb

If you can't come up with fifteen ... at least comment below with the one album that has affected you the most. And this includes anyone else that wishes to play along ...

Afterglow

Emily — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 17:10:26 +0000

I've just boarded the train in Ann Arbor heading back to my place in the city. And even though the breathtaking scenery of the Huron River is around me, I am feeling blue. I've just said good-bye to Hubby after a fun weekend and - even though we deny it till the very last moment - I am terribly sad. It's as if these train tracks, the same ones that took me to him on Friday, are pulling me further and further away from him. And I hate it. I haven't been writing much over the past week because I've been busy. I find the more time I spend apart from writing, the more difficult it is for me to write. And I hate that. And now, with the two things I've admitted to hating out of the way ... and with about 4 hours before hitting my final destination ... I now find myself having that time to write. [caption id="attachment_1349" align="alignleft" width="171" caption="MH & AF circa 1988"][/caption] I've got my iPod on listening to the (new) INXS* song, "Afterglow." I love this song, because it's so beautiful. And it's a song that I could totally hear Michael Hu.tchence singing, rather than JD "Fortunate-that-he-was-picked" from Rockstar. Sadly, it's a song that was written by MH's songwriting partner Andrew Fa.rriss. And perhaps I may be reading into the lyrics too much, but I've interpreted it as a song he wrote about dealing with life after Michael's death. And how he has been trying to "let him go" so that he can move forward with his own life without Michael. It's perfect for how I'm feeling right now; having just left Hubby standing on the train platform. Not that I'm "letting him go" or anything. It's more that I'm feeling like I have to go on living life without Hubby once again ... at least for another 5 days until the weekend comes once more. You would think that I might have gotten used to it by now, as it's been two months now, but it's still as painful as that first day Hubby drove off down the street of our new "place" and back to our home in Michigan. The only thing that's holding me together is that the end is now in site. And hopefully by the end of this month, I will finally be able to call this place I've been living in for the past two months "home." Because Hubby will always be home for me. And suddenly I've got that line from "Lilo & Stitch" in my head. "Ohana means Family. And Family means no one get's left behind." *Sigh* .... So ... what to write about now ? Hmm, perhaps I could tell you about all the fun I had at Hubby's Ad Club Awards show yesterday. You know ... the same awards show for which Hubby designed the poster made completely out of Legos (with some assistance from his personal Lego Engineer, of course ). Well, because Legos was such a big thing for most of the "Creatives" (as they call themselves ...) back in the early 80's, the overall theme turned into a whole 80's night. Well, at least the rest of the items that Hubby designed (the invitations, the programs, banners, etc) had a whole '80's feel to it. [caption id="attachment_1350" align="alignright" width="212" caption="D2 circa 1983"][/caption] To complete the 80's theme, Hubby and I decided to dress the whole 80's part. This is where I'd probably insert a picture of Hubby in a white blazer coat, black dress shirt unbuttoned at the top with a black tie loosened around the neck (a la Dur.an Dur.an circa 1981). Or even one where I'm dressed in a 80's mod dress complete with black stirrup leggings and kitten heel pumps. (I would have done the whole side-ways ponytail, but then my grey hair would have really stood out ...) Unfortunately, neither of us remembered to take our cameras with us. So instead, I'll share this true 80's picture of me (circa 1985), in a dress that's quite similar to what I wore. And no ... my dress was not the same pattern ... (Damn ... thought I had it with me on my laptop here. Guess I don't. I'll have to scan it next time I'm back in Detroit ...) It's always a fun night going to these Addy Awards. Being around Creative Folk is pretty darn funny. They usually have some interesting stories to talk about. Most aren't too stuffy where they can't take a joke or tell a pretty good one. Typically every year there's some sort of theme around the awards. I think I already shared with you a picture of Hubby & I as a Ringmaster and Tightrope Walker during the circus-themed one. Then there was the one where everything revolved around solving some sort of crime, a la CSI ... except in this case CSI stood for Creative Scene Investigation. And of course there was the whole "Austin Powers" Groovy theme; in which one couple dressed up as Dr. Evil and Vanessa Kensington. That was pretty darn funny! So the Lego theme this year found the Creatives sitting around tables with various pieces of Lego surrounding the table centerpieces. People were encouraged to play with them, build things with them. If someone from their table won an award, when they came up to accept the award they were instructed to add Lego piece(s) to a Lego board up in the front of the room. The goal was that at the end of the night, everyone would have formed a communal sculpture made out of random Lego pieces. Well ... the final piece was definitely a mish-mosh of various random Legos representing, what I overheard someone else call a "funky carnival." And if I had my camera ... this is where I'd share how absolutely imaginative some people got. [caption id="attachment_1357" align="alignleft" width="138" caption="Opt.imus Prime"][/caption] But the even more surprising Lego sculptures were found at the end of the night. After the festivities ended and as I went around collecting all the Lego pieces at the tables, I found random pieces of Legos shaped into various animals or house-like structures. I swear, someone even made a ginormous robot that looked like it should have been Optim.us Prime from the Tran.sformers. Really, I shouldn't have been too surprised ... I mean after all, I was supposed to be surrounded by the most creative people in the local industry. Overall, it was a fun weekend. And because we both were away from our respective living areas (we stayed the weekend in Lansing, MI where the awards show was), it was nice to be in a place where neither of us had to "leave" one another at the end of the weekend. Both of us were going back to our places ... albeit alone. But, thank G*d, not for much longer.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~ * I find that I've divided INXS into two categories; the old INXS (with Michael Hu.tchence) and the new INXS (sans Michael Hu.tchence).

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Emily — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 01:38:51 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 03:26:56 +0000

Handprint On My Heart

Emily — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 04:14:14 +0000

I’ve been spending a lot of time in my manager’s office. Not surprising, considering I spend a lot of my time in shared meetings with her over the phone with various vendors. And because my manager’s the one with a door to her office … Anyway, I truly respect and like my manager. I’ve learned in my past experiences that it’s good to have a leader that fits in with your personality. In other words, we don’t want to be so much alike that we can’t see or think outside of our own respective boxes. But you also don’t want to be so different in personalities that we’d clash over anything and everything. Lucky for me; I think I might have struck a nice balance with my current manager. Of course I thought the same thing with my last manager, and we all know how that turned out. But in my defense, when I was a supervisor working directly under my ex-manager … we did have a little more of a rapport with each other. It’s only after I stepped down as supervisor to become a worker bee (all for the sake of “reducing stress” as I headed into the wonderful world of IVF, BTW …) that the issues came about. And even then, it was years in the making (including major changes in the overall department and/or personal issues for the both of us) before things took a turn for the worse. New manager (NM) pushes me in directions I had never gone before and she’s tested my strength as a leader for my team. But in a totally good way. She’s the go-getter; the snap decision maker. I’m also a go-getter; but tend to be more deliberative and analytical. I slow her down enough to think things through; she speeds me up to get me where I need to be. I just hope that this relationship continues to grow and flourish through the years. But this wasn’t the main reason I’m writing today. (Although now is a good time, if ever.) Today as I sat in yet another telephone meeting, I sat there and played with some of the toys she leaves on her desk for us to fiddle around with whenever we talk.* Next to the mini Zen garden (that her husband gave her to help “relax” … LOL!) is a ceramic piece that her daughter made for her when she was 5 years old. It’s this tiny glazed hand that has little hearts and butterflies on its fingers and her name written on the palm. And every time I sit in that office, I can’t help but put my hand over the little glazed hand. Because: 1) It is. Simply. Adorable. And 2) the texture of the glaze just has this soothing quality to it. I’m not sure what it was about today. But the thought that I might never be able to hold the small hand of my own child hit me square in the chest. And just like that, I was back to longing for my imaginary child. Which is crazy, in my mind. Because I know that right now just isn’t the right timing to “go forth and procreate.” Or in my case, move forward with adoption. H*ll, I’m not even sure if I want to pursue the adoption path. Because, quite frankly I’ve been so much more comfortable with the idea of child-free living lately. And yes, I’m sure it’s because of the major changes I’ve made over the past six months. (Has it been that long since the last lowest** point in my IF journey?!) I simply don’t have the time. And I simply don’t have the energy to want to feel as miserable as I did back then. Nor do I have the energy to struggle to break the surface if I ever get that low again. I’m happy where I’m at right now in my life (although, having Hubby here would make it tons better). I’m happy with my “second chance” to make a “life” out of my life. It might not be the kind of “life” I dreamed of (creating a baby’s life, being a mother, for example) … but still, it’s my life. The life I chose to move forward with; the one that I have some control over. So why do I still have these longings? Why does my dream of being a parent still cling to me? This feeling … this longing, it evokes the same emotions I have whenever I hear this one song from the musical, Wicked:

It well may be that we will never meet again In this lifetime, so let me say before we part So much of me is made of what I learned from you You’ll be with me like a handprint on my heart
-- "For Good"

And although the song is referring to the tragic ending of a friendship, I can’t help but substitute the “friend” for the child I may never have. And what I’ve learned from the heartache of my infertility is so much of who I am as a person today.

But despite all that I’ve learned and all that I’ve become ... there is this part of me -- will always be this part of me -- that will have the handprint of my child, whether imaginary or real, on my heart.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* Studies have shown that people tend to be more creative and think clearer when keeping your hands busy. Thus, having simple toys such as koosh balls or even rubber bands in your office (in my case, cubicle) is a good thing.

** As always, if you're curious ... comment below and I'll email you the password.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toM9a8Gkndc]

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Emily — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 05:54:48 +0000

The Elusive "Gold Crown"

Emily — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 06:30:30 +0000

A couple nights ago I had some visitors to my new place ... specifically three of my younger cousins, one who is in the area for her college spring break. I absolutely love these girls; they are the youngest cousins on my Dad’s side and I can clearly remember them as babies (well, at least two of them anyway). Now they’re all “grown up” and in college. In any case, the reason they wanted to come over was to watch some DVD’s of “The O.C.” on our new HD TV. Except we never did get around to doing that. Instead, we hooked up the Wii and played some Roc.kband and Raym.an Raving Rabb.ids. Way too much fun ... except I have a feeling that our neighbors below weren’t too thrilled. Especially since playing Wii and the “photo shoot” (read: digital cam on timer at 10 shots per incident) lasted well into the night. But oh ... was it ever fun. And here are some pictures to prove it. Personally, I think we’re all set for the cover of Rol.ling Sto.ne! LOL!

[rockyou id=133909794&w=450&h=338]

Moving on ...

Have I mentioned how much I liked working in the big city? I love not having to drive to work. I love not having to park in the same parking lot in the same general spot every single day. I love that there are multiple ways to get to my office building. So that on a cold crappy day, I can walk inside another office building and walk through the indoor pedestrian walkway. Or on a beautiful warm end-of-winter day I can walk down the busy avenue and enter directly into my building. And let’s talk about that busy avenue. There are definitely more options for shopping and eating along the day. No more of that “get in the car and drive” to get out of the office just for lunch or to run to the bank. Nope, I can now just walk out of my office building and down the street. That doesn’t even count all the different cafes and restaurants in the pedestrian walkway inside; where I can run down in between meetings for a quick bite to eat. Believe me, having designer coffee available in the morning comes in handy after those late nights of Rockband on the Wii. Anyway ... there happens to be a Hallm.ark store in the walkway. I love going in there because ... well, Hallm.ark stores are always such fun to look around in. (And besides, being a “Gold Crown” member has it’s little bonus coupon perks ... !) It reminds me of my grade school days when Hallm.ark was the place to find cool stickers for your sticker book or cute stuffed animals to add to your collection. And in some rare instances, the young Asian girl in me would be delighted to find Sanr.io items at some of the stores (back when Hel.lo Kitty was just a blip on everyone else's radar). Except now, I find myself at Hallm.ark looking for a variety of different cards. Or other cute items to give as gifts. Personally, I love the whole Ho.ops & Yoy.o collection. That darn pink kitty and green bunny are too frickin’ adorable. (Must check out my cute totally new wave song and “music video” I created on their site! Tee-hee ... !) And their selection of cards for any and every occasion makes picking out just one card nearly impossible. Especially when they have cool ones with music and sound effects now. And their gift collections are just so chotski-ish ... way too fun to look at, and on various occasions, buy as well. Like the whole series of clay jars that say anything from “Retirement Fund” to “Ashes of Former Employees” on them. Or all the Prec.ious Moments figurines with all the cute little sayings on them like “A tender touch makes love bloom.” I don’t mean to belittle them, because really ... I would buy these gifts for the appropriate occasion. And I would certainly appreciate any of them if I were ever to receive them as gifts.

Anyway, the point of my rambling about Hallm.ark and their gifts is because I realized something the other day. I was in the store during my lunch hour just passing time after spending pretty much the entire morning in meetings upon meetings. It got to the point that by the time I got back to my desk my desk phone was lit up and blinking like a fire truck, my work-issued blackberry was vibrating non-stop, and my personal cell phone was personally notifying me about the “Devil Inside”. Yeah ... it was a nutso day. And at that moment, I just had to walk away.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m truly enjoying my new job. And I’m clearly up to the challenge that face me in my new position. But as I’m still relatively “new” to the corporation, I find myself sometimes frustrated that I can’t pick up on processes as quickly as I used to in my previous job. I know that it will come in time. And believe me, I know that I should be proud of all I accomplished even in this two month period. I’d even go as far as to say that I believe I’ve made enough progress in my position that I’ve earned the trust of my staff and the respect of my other peers. Yeah. I know ... what a difference 8 months and a change in jobs and scenery makes. Amazing what it does for my self-confidence and self-esteem. There I’ve gone again ... I’ve once again digressed. So as I was down in the pedestrian walkway, I strolled into the Hallm.ark store. I was tempted to buy a cute Ho.ops & Yoy.o plush, but I resisted. And then I wandered to the back of the store where many a picture frame and plaques were displayed. I’m not sure if it was the effects of seeing the ceramic handprint in my boss’ office, but for some reason my eyes gravitated to all the “Mom” chotskies out there. The little paperweights or mirrored plaques with “Ode to Mom” poems. The angel figurines that talk about how ”Moms are a Gift from Heaven.” The picture frames or coffee mugs the proclaim how “Moms RULE!” The keychains or notebooks that proudly state, “Motherhood: The Hardest Job You’ll Ever Love.” It’s that last statement about motherhood that had me a little hot under the collar. Not that I disagree with that statement. Nor do I discount how incredibly hard being a mother is. Because I am absolutely positively one hundred percent sure that particular statement is correct. But the thing is ... I’ve just never experienced being a mother. Nor do I know that I ever will experience motherhood. And while that truth does hurt ... does make me incredibly sad ... that last declaration evokes another unpleasant emotion in me. It creates this feeling of triviality in what I do with my job; my career. It’s as if what I do for a living will never ever top that of being a mother. And what does that say for someone like me who has always wanted to be a Mom? Who has always held the idea that I could be a mother and a career woman? Who has been given these incredible job opportunities in her career but has not been given the opportunity to be a mother? It’s thoughts like that ... and all those tiny little observations that I notice on any given day ... those are the things that also hit me square in the chest. They’re the things that knock me for a loop. The things that bring my self-confidence and self-esteem back down a notch. I hope the receivers of such gifts; those mothers of children (or those other family members) realize what a hard job motherhood really is ... I hope these moms truly appreciate the thought and the sentiment behind those gifts. And I hope those mothers realize exactly what a gift motherhood is. Because outside their world are those women who may never be on the receiving end of such gifts.

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Emily — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 04:22:48 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 04:29:12 +0000

"Me"-dia

Emily — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 04:39:06 +0000

[caption id="attachment_1394" align="alignright" width="170" caption="Imagin me wearing stirrup stockings with this dress and kitten heel pumps ... yep, how 80's!"][/caption] 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? [caption id="attachment_1395" align="alignleft" width="159" caption="True 80's Fashion ..."][/caption] 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. [caption id="attachment_1396" align="alignright" width="206" caption="A Bonus 80's Shot for y'all"][/caption] 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. [caption id="attachment_1397" align="alignleft" width="197" caption="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!"][/caption] 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.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJScYJB5FDk]

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.

Our Nephew, The Teenager

Emily — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 02:00:50 +0000

It's official. Today, my nephew turned 13 ... which officially makes him a teenager. Yikes! Seriously, I can't believe it's been that many years since I changed his first poopy diaper. And when I mean his first poopy diaper, I do mean that meconium stool that all babies should pass within the first 12 hours. Oh ... and did I mention that those are the thick, tarry stools that are very difficult to clean up?! I do believe that I earn bonus "Auntie Em" points for doing that. :-) [caption id="attachment_1403" align="alignright" width="191" caption="He was 2 yrs old on this trip to Disney"][/caption] Really though, I couldn't have been happier to do it that day. He was such a stubborn baby, refusing to turn in his Mom's belly, that she had to deliver him by c-section. Yeah ... I'm sure cleaning that first yucky stool was what she needed to worry about at that moment. In any case, my nephew has been the light of my Hubby's & my life for the past 13 years. He holds a special place in our hearts for many reasons. First, because he was born the same year that Hubby & me were married ... which makes remembering how many years we've been married much easier. That and the fact that there were two new "lives" (my nephew and the joint lives between Hubby & I) that were born that same year ... my nephew is just a constant reminder of landmark point in our lives. Another reason Hubby & I are especially close to our nephew is because there was a spell of time that he and his Mom came to live with us. He was about 18 months at that time and we all lived together for just under a year. I have very fond memories of those times, like celebrating Christmas with him. Or going shopping with his Mom and telling us oh-so-sweetly, "I neeeed to go hoooommmeee!" And there was also the time we found a pebble up his nose! But those moments with him, the time he spent living with us ... it's those reasons (and probably so much more) that we have developed a special bond with him. So now here's where I get to show off exactly how special we are to our nephew. By Christmas this past year, the whole family knew that Hubby & I would be moving out of Detroit. So imagine my surprise when Hubby & I opened our gifts and found this:

Yes, it's a collage that our nephew made for us to bring with us to our new home. So that we won't forget him. But the thing is, we could never forget him. He has become part of our lives in ways that he, himself, probably doesn't understand. And it's for that reason that I just about bawled when I opened and read that gift. [caption id="attachment_1402" align="alignleft" width="223" caption="This is what he wrote on the collage"][/caption] In any case, he's now 13 years old and taller than me. He's now starting to shave and his voice is ever-so-slightly changing. And while this past weekend while at home to celebrate his birthday (his dad has him this weekend), he refused to leave our side ... I know that those moments of showing unabashed love and affection to us will get less and less as he grows older. And when that moment comes ... the moment when he becomes that "man" who would rather shake his Uncle's hand and lightly hug his Auntie Em ... I will look back at these moments and remember exactly how special we are to him, even though he might not physically show it all the time.

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Emily — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 11:41:15 +0000

It's All About ME (and K, too)

Emily — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 11:48:58 +0000

Amazing ... this is two posts in a short span of time. And when I mean short "span" I do mean that literally, this post and the last were written within an hour of each other. Despite the fact that they show two different dates. Yeah. I should be sleeping, as it's past midnight. But instead I'm still slightly wide awake. Hubby and I have been video-chatting ... and it's been nice to just see his face (even if it IS of him just watching TV) just to feel as if we're close to one another. I swear ... the wonders of modern technology! Anyhoo ... tonite I got to spend the evening with one of my favorite high school buddies, K. She's the pal who directed me to where I should look for places to live in the big city ... and when I did find the place where I'm at now, we realized that we lived only a block and a half away from one another. She's also the one who, one evening, I had more than an hour long conversation via Sk.ype ... and we both thought how ridiculous it was since we could be over each others' place in only a few minutes. But hey ... there was something about video chatting while in our pajamas that made it feel like a "sleep over." Minus the bowl of popcorn, sleeping bags and scary movies, that is. While over her place, I got to spend time with her beautiful daughter. "ME" ... as K's dad has nicknamed her ... is such a cutie! And she's grown so much in just the past two months since I first met her. Really ... she went from barely starting to crawl to standing upright and walking around the table (grabbing it by the edge, of course) in just that small window of time. But oh ... does she have an adorable personality. ME, that is. I mean K has a great personality, too ... but seeing as if we picked up right where we left off some 12 years prior ... getting to know little ME even more was just so much fun. I can't wait to see how much more that personality developes the older she gets. Well, seeing as my eyes are starting to droop ... I guess I should wrap this tiny post up. I just wanted to share some pictures of ME so that K can snap a few of them up and perhaps put it on her bloggie. Because ... well, who wouldn't want to share these adorable pictures?! Oh ... and maybe so K's dad would stop pestering her to add more pics to the blog. (Grampa just loves his little ME!).

YAWN ... okay. Good night. Oh and thanks, K for such a wonderful evening!

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Emily — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 01:07:28 +0000

Emily Is Lost

Emily — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 01:30:14 +0000

Guess what stupid thing Emily did yesterday? Did she get a chance to see this famous river dyed green for St. Patty's Day?

No. Did she get to take Hubby to Chinatown to eat some delish Dim Sum that we've been craving since the beginning of the year?

No. Did she get to enjoy the beautiful drive down this scenic highway on a gorgeous sunny day?

No. Instead, Emily decided to lose her wallet. Which meant that Emily spent the afternoon calling every credit card company and her bank to replace her missing cards. Oh, and calling the credit bureau to file a report to notify us of any possible fraud. And of course, since Emily lost her wallet, she lost her only piece of ID she has besides her passport and her work ID badge. Which means she no longer has a driver's license. Except that really doesn't matter since she hasn't driven a car in quite a while. But still ... So needless to say, Emily is a little lost. And she's feeling a little foolish as well. Silly, stupid and lost Emily ... But on a much cuter and adorable note, Hubby sent this picture to me this evening. Apparently, our Doggie hotel recently got a new groomer. So when Hubby picked up our Kozzy Girl after her weekend mini-vaca ... it appears she got some fashion lessons as well.

Oh, how I miss my Kozzy ...

And even though I know I'll reflect on this some more tomorrow (which is the actual date)...

Happy 2nd Blogiversary to me!

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Emily — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 02:07:57 +0000

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Two Dolla' No Holla'

Emily — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 23:00:50 +0000

“Two Dollars! I want my two dollars!” I love that movie. “Better Off Dead” is one of those classic John Cusa.ck films from the ‘80’s that remind me of many-a-slumber parties. (You know, back when the other girls were fixing their hair and putting on make-up while I sat in my sleeping bag clearly just watching rental video after rental video …) I loved the Asian guys that pretended to be that sportscaster from Wide World O’Sports (hey, it’s St. Paddy’s Day … gotta get my O’ on. :-) ). And I love how Lane’s mom tried to cook her “Fraunch” dinner for the cute little exchange student that Lane should have noticed much sooner. Oh, and I loved the fact that they used a little Howa.rd Jo.nes on their soundtrack as well. In any case, my mind sometimes (oh, who am I kidding … always) works in strange “tangential thinking” ways. I started off by thinking, “Two Years, Wow!” and obviously ended up thinking of a newspaper boy on a bike trying to collect his money. G*d … does anyone else remember the days of neighborhood kids being the newspaper deliverer and collector of payments?! Now it’s always an adult that pulls up in a car … chucks the paper out their car window where one hopes it lands on the doorstep … and then it’s the newspaper that actually hounds you by phone for their twenty dollars or more. Oh geez … see what I mean? Tangential thinking. See the whole point of this post was to reflect how it’s been two years today since I started this blog. And what started out as wanting to express something in a journal entry somehow ended up here in the blogiverse. I remember clearly sitting in a café in A2 while Hubby and his BIL (my SIL’s Hubby of less than a year at the time) went off to do their comic/gaming thing. I was still struggling with the news of my SIL’s pregnancy and found myself slowly losing grip on my sanity. I knew, after a few months of counseling, that I had to find a way to deal with all these repressed emotions. Except besides this counselor and my husband, I didn’t know anyone else I could talk to about these feelings of anger and jealousy … and the subsequent guilt that always seemed to follow those emotions. I felt that somehow no one else could understand what I was going through. I believed that everyone I had previously talked to about these things thought I was nuts to be “obsessing” about how unfair it was that I couldn’t produce a child. And I remember thinking how it seemed as if everyone was moving forward in their lives; starting their families, achieving new milestones, etc … all while Hubby & I remained left behind, unable to move forward. It didn’t help that March was an anniversary month for Hubby and me. It would be the month that so many years ago, we received the news of our one and only failed IVF attempt. And for the life of me, today I can’t even recall the number of years it’s been since then. (What does that say about where I'm at today?!) But two years ago, those emotions … that feeling of lost was still as deep and painful as it was when we first received that devastating news. In a single sentence … two years ago today, I was a wreck. And writing about how I felt seemed to be the only way to articulate such complicated emotions. And so hence, Apron Strings for Emily was born. So where am I at today? Well … writing about my journey has certainly had some impact on my life. Both good and bad … and sometimes just downright ugly. THE UGLY: My relationship, though better since moving, is still a bit strained with my SIL. The distance has definitely proved to be a good thing though. But this, of course, is at the sacrifice of not being able to see my nephew and my 6 month old niece as often as I’d like. Despite all this, my instincts (which tend to be spot on quite often) tell me that all this heartbreak will eventually pass in time. Perhaps one day our lives will once again be back “in sync” with one another like it was so many eons ago. And perhaps it won’t. But either way, only time will help mend all the broken layers of skin that this deep deep wound (as in “Stage IV Decubitus Ulcer”) has caused. In any case, we’ll be seeing them next month for sure though … as they make the trip to visit us in our new digs. And I seriously can’t wait!! THE BAD: Uhm … the obvious one is that Hubby and I are still without kids of our own. This also means that I haven’t been able to provide grandchildren to our parents, nieces or nephews to our siblings, or cousins to our nephew and niece. It still eats at me … at least once a month, during those incredible waves of emotions I get (Thank you, wacky hormones!) …but at least it isn’t every day like it was for years and years (and years and years). THE GOOD: I’ve found out that, contrary to my psychotic (as opposed to psychic) beliefs, I am not necessarily alone in this infertility journey. I’ve found the incredibly wonderful and much needed support I've been looking for … thanks to all of you readers and commenters. Also, I’ve finally decided (just recently within the past 6 months) that my life no longer has to revolve around my inability to have children of my own and have decided to focus on other parts of my life. This means I can finally move onto deciding whether adoption should be our next step. OR if accepting child-free living is the path to take. But the best part of this point in my life is this: After years and years of holding all my anger and sadness inside, I’ve finally found my voice … and the medium in which to express this voice. For someone who has been used to (and quite frankly brought up to) stifling any bad feelings aside, well that’s … Just. Simply. Incredible. And just like a yearly “work performance” eval … not only do I have to summarize all that has happened in the past year … I should also be thinking towards the coming year. SO … what exactly are my goals for the next year?

Work on above relationship with SIL. I’m still thinking time and distance for now is a good thing. Perhaps my thoughts will change over the course of the year. .
Continue to more forward. I need to remember to take steps by putting one foot in front of the other, and make an effort not to take any steps back. I need to build a momentum to keep me moving in a positive direction … whatever direction that might be. (Adoption? Child-free living? Focus on career and ultimate dream of moving out to the west coast?) But I do need to remember to keep moving, otherwise I could find myself stuck in the present (or the past) and in another “rut.” .
Leave the past in the past. This specifically means that I need to focus on not looking back at the negative. And if I do look back, it’s only to realize how much stronger I am because of what I’ve been through. .
In that same sense, I need to not concentrate on any negative thoughts. Focusing on any negativity is going to get me into those “What if?” situations that will also keep me in that same “rut.” .
Continue to blog. This … this is my (free) therapy. It’s one of the few ways I can openly and honestly talk about how I’m feeling. And it’s a way for me to work through these complicated emotions of anger and loss. Otherwise, I’d be back to where I started. And as I look back on my very first post and realize how much I talked almost all in “riddles” and metaphors … and how I couldn’t even write the word “Infertility” in that first post … It’s then that I realize just how far I’ve come.

And finally, before I wrap up this extremely long post, I want to thank all of you for allowing me to work (and continue to work) through all of my concerns. And thank you for faithfully reading all about them. Because, really? What’s the point of finding my voice if I didn’t have you … my readers, my friends and my family … to listen to (or in this case, read about) it? Oh, and because today is St. Patty’s Day … I also wish all of you the Luck O’ The Irish!!

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Emily — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 23:15:57 +0000

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Room With A View

Emily — Thu, 19 Mar 2009 21:05:33 +0000

When I first started as an health insurance-based Case Manager (waaay back in 1999) for the company I just left this past December, it was my first job in Cubicle-ville. It's the first office-type setting I had ever been in and I was so excited just to have my own desk, my own phone. But that's because I was so used to working on the "floors" of a hospital, where I only got one small corner of the med cart to prepare the meds I had to distribute. And where I only had one small inch of desk space to write my progress notes in because the physician's and their lackeys (-ie- pesky med students) always took up more room than they ever needed to. [caption id="attachment_1418" align="alignleft" width="179" caption="No Room at the Nurse's Station"][/caption] Which of course brings me to this thought of the day ... Why the H*LL is it called a Nurse's Station when it's never filled with any of the nurses? When all the Docs take up every inch of space in the area? And when all the nurses tend to be the one's running up and down the hall? Oh boy ... having major flashbacks here. It doesn't help that every once in a while I still have dreams (ahem ... nightmares, actually) of going to work in the trenches. And ... once again, I've gotten of topic. Okay, so really what I was getting at was that my last job was the first time I've ever worked in an office. Which meant I had a space of my own to put up personal stuff like pictures and toys, etc. One of my co-workers knew how much I loved to decorate my little space, so she gave me a poster to hang up on my wall. It was a picture of a fountain in a well-known city that, even back then, I always said that Hubby & I wanted to live in. Well it took us ten years, but we've finally made that move. And since Hubby finally made his announcement at work, I can finally update my Face.book network to the correct city. I can finally un-Password Protect those few posts leading up to the decision to move. [caption id="attachment_1415" align="aligncenter" width="411" caption="This is the poster I had in my cubicle back in Michigan"][/caption] Yes, that's right people. I can shout it from the rooftop now. As of the end of this month, Hubby and I will both be Chicagoans, officially. As for that poster that my co-worker gave me? Well, instead of bringing it with me ... I left it at my previous job. In fact, I posted it up on the staff bulletin board and placed a sticky note on it with an arrow pointing to a specific building. And on that sticky note I wrote, "Come visit Emily here." And the best part? Well see for yourself ... these are actual views from the windows of my office building. [caption id="attachment_1443" align="aligncenter" width="424" caption="View of Michigan Ave & Wrigley Building across the Chicago River"][/caption]

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[caption id="attachment_1444" align="aligncenter" width="415" caption="That's Lake Michigan and Navy Pier in the near distance!"][/caption] I so cannot wait to explore the rest of this city ... especially now (in less than two-weeks time) I can begin to call it home once Hubby is by my side.

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Emily — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 19:55:51 +0000

Yummy Yummy Dim Summy

Emily — Sun, 22 Mar 2009 19:58:32 +0000

Yay! Today Hubby and I actually made it to Chinatown for some of their delish dim sum. Perfect for a sunny Sunday mid-morning meal. [caption id="attachment_1492" align="alignright" width="185" caption="Sign on Shop Door in Chinatown ... *LOVE IT!*"][/caption] Dim sum, in some variation of the Chinese language (not exactly which Chinese dialect it comes from ...), literally translates to "Touch of the heart." I totally love that term, as I've always associated going to dim sum with family on the weekends. Sometimes it would be to celebrate a special event like birthdays.* Other times it was just to gather together while visiting family & friends in another city (like Toronto) or while having those same family & friends visit our neck of the woods. Many times, for Hubby & I, it would simply just be a "craving" we'd have. In any case, going for dim sum brings back memories of happy times and of family traditions. So going for dim sum today ... by ourselves ... was special. Especially after putting it off for months since moving to Chicago. And it's because today marks the beginning of Hubby & I beginning of our new "family tradition." And that touches my heart ...

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* Here's another Asian tradition for y'all. It's customary for the birthday celebrant to have noodles on their actual birthday. It symbolizes long life and good health. Hence, if you're ever at a Filipino birthday party ... you will always always ALWAYS see pancit as one of the main dishes on the buffet table!

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Emily — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 04:43:49 +0000

Joy and Pain

Emily — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 04:46:20 +0000

I have this incredibly horrible habit of pulling myself away ... of freezing up with this indescribable fear ... when good news surrounds those I love. It's not that I'm bitter about their happiness, or jealous of such good news. If anything, I am typically very excited for my friends and family. I'm absolutely overjoyed with their wonderful news. But the thing is, it never seems ... at least in my humble opinion ... that I come off as sounding genuinely happy whenever I congratulate the receiver of such good news. To me, it's an awkwardness that I can only compare to expressing sympathy for the passing of a good friend's aunt or uncle ... I realize how important this family member was to my friend, however because I may have never physically met this family member ... never really knew this person ... I just can't quite understand how much this death will have affected my good buddy. Nevertheless, that clumsiness is socially acceptable. That feeling of ineptness is considered "normal" in most circles. Whereas the ineptness I feel whenever whenever I attempt to express my happiness for my loved ones ... Well, it's as if I lack grace. Or elegance. It feels, although not purposefully, as if my smile never quite reach my eyes ... as if the light bulb in my brain is permanently set on dim. It may appear to others that I am only "blithely" expressing my happiness for my loved ones, my friends. But that, I can tell you, is not the case. In full disclosure, I do feel a bit of sadness. But this sadness is not directed at my loved ones. It is truly a sadness just for me ... and is directed for myself alone. I know I'm rambling incoherently here. And I know that despite the utter happiness I feel for my friends and my loved ones ... I continue to have this emptiness in my chest (or in my uterus, as it may be). I know, as Dr. SIL so eloquently stated, that another person's biggest joy could very well coincide with my biggest grief. And I know this is the reason I find myself pulling away from those that I love during the happier moments in their lives. I know all this. And logically, I also know that I'm allowed to feel such sadness for myself ... to pull away during those snippets in time ... all in order to move forward and away from my grief, and so I can remain strong in the face of my own personal demons. [caption id="attachment_1577" align="alignleft" width="234" caption="Sunshine after the Rain (notice how dark the clouds are in the side mirror)"][/caption] But ... it doesn't stop me from continuing to feel the guilt. And this logic doesn't stop me from feeling as if I'm such a horrible person for feeling the things that I do. Or that I'm downright being plain selfish by having such thoughts of sadness for myself, any myself alone. And it certainly doesn't help that society follows that same train of thought ... that sadness in the midst of other people's joy is neither polite nor socially acceptable. That ... that "social nonacceptance" is the basis for my irrational fear whenever good news is sprung in my direction. This is why I freeze. Because quite frankly, I'm not sure if I should be honest with myself and allow myself to feel the way I do. Or if I should just "shut up" in order to remain socially acceptable. Either way, it's happiness mixed with a little angst. A bit of joy mixed with pain. A little sunshine with the rain. And a whole lot of frustration and isolation (self-inflicted, of course) to boot.

Lola

Emily — Fri, 27 Mar 2009 13:11:31 +0000

Lola, in Tagalog (the primary language in the Philippines), means Grandmother. Except being the Filipino-American that I am, I never called her that. I always called her Grandma. Grandma, besides my parents and my brother, is the first person I can remember constantly being around me when I was a toddler. I have this image of her sleeping in my bedroom on my other twin bed next to me in my room. And I remember this purple-y floral embroidered luggage bag that she always had; and she constantly wore purple .... as it's always been her favorite color. Grandma turned 99 this February. And other than her vision and hearing, and the occasional memory lapses, she's as sharp as a tack. Well, I should really say that those memory lapses have become more frequent ... but geesh, at her age that's still frickin' amazing. The point being is that she can still recognize all her own children and her dozens of grandchildren scattered throughout the world. The reason I'm bringing Grandma up right now is because she needs all the good prayers and positive vibes right now. I've just been told that she was admitted to the hospital in the Philippines on Wednesday night ... and things aren't looking too good. My mom and all her siblings that live scattered throughout the U.S. are desperately trying to find a flight "back home." Because they're trying to travel to the Philippines together, they're having a difficult time coordinating flights. That, and well the tickets are monstrously expensive. I wish I could be there; be by my Grandma's side to hold her hand. Be with my aunts and uncles and cousins to hug them and to be hugged by them. Mostly, I want to be with my Mom, who called me this morning in tears. Because my Mom, who is named after my Grandma, is feeling so lonely right now. Wanting desperately to catch the first flight out that she can. And yet, this morning ... told me she's not had the energy even to pack, because she's just been waiting by the phone for any word of when she'll be able to get her flight. And well ... any other news of my Grandma as well.

[caption id="attachment_1591" align="aligncenter" width="395" caption="My "Lola" and Mom, who was named after her, on my wedding day ..."][/caption] It's times like this that I wish I was closer to home. That I didn't have such a new job with little to no time off to take. It's times like this I truly miss my family. Please please please ... if anyone has it "good" with the Man Upstairs, please send a prayer or a thought up to him to look over my family, my Mom ... and most of all, my Lola.

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Br.ide Of Fra.nkens.tein Removed

Emily — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 12:08:17 +0000

Quick post, as I'm surrounded by unorganized mess mixed with packing boxes back in Michigan. Hubby officially "moves" to Chicago with me today, along with puppy-girl Kozzy. Yay! Home with finally be Home in Chicago. As sad as I am the Detroit is going through such hard economic times, especially with the housing markent, I'm actually quite relieved that this gives us time to do a "slow" move over to Chicago. If only we didn't have to pay a mortgage plus rent, I'd be even more of a happy camper. This weekend should have been spent doing more packing and taxes (yeah, we're procrastinators), however most of it was spent with family and friends. Saturday, we met with my parents for an early dinner (at Pizzapapalis, of all places! Hands down, the best deep dish pizza ... next to the "original" Pizzeria Uno in Chicago ... by the way). It was good to spend time with my parents ... especially my Mom, before she flies out to the Philippines this morning. (More on Grandma later ... ) For "second dinner" (a la "Hobbit"-style), we met with our good friend, J at our favorite burger joint. It's been a ritual for us to meet there even when I was still in the D. I miss the excellent burgers ... but I miss my friend, J more. I'm worried a bit about him ... I think this move to Chicago for us is hitting him harder than both Hubby & I thought. But we've assured him (and ourselves, too) that we'd be back often enough to continue our late night ritual. If only we can find a burger just as good as Redcoat in Chicago. But more importantly, if only I could convince him to move to Chicago to be closer to us ... Last night we spent a quick couple of hours out to dinner with Hubby's family. Again, nice to catch up with everyone. Great to talk to my SIL about how "wonderful" her psych rotation in Nursing school is going. (Ah ... the memories!) And completely awesome to see my nephew again and to hold my beautiful niece once more. I do miss them. Tons Oh, and as of yesterday afternoon ... I am officially no longer the "Br.ide Of Fra.nkens.tein." I no longer have the grey/silver streaks of hair at either side of my temples. That's because finally ... after six long months ... I got my hair cut and dyed! Woo-hoo! And there's another person I miss tremendously, too ... my awesome hairstylist! She is that good ... that I'd come back in to town just to have my hair done just by her. And finally ... a quick update on Lola. Grandma is not doing any better ... she's officially gone into a coma and her kidneys are failing. Everyone is thinking that she just might not pull through this time. Of course, she's been known to fool us all in the past ... so I'm not giving up hope for a miracle. But honestly, I think she's waiting for all her children to come back "home" to be by her side before making her decision. My Mom finally found the earliest flight out to the Philippines mid-Friday morning. Unfortunately, the normally two-layover / 14-hour flight has now turned into a three-layover / greater than 36-hour flight. It was the best she could do on short notice ... and it still didn't come cheap. The important thing is that she'll be meeting her sister during one of these layovers and will share the same flight with her into Manila, Philippines. I hate knowing that she's traveling all alone, especially during this emotionally difficult time. This same Aunt of mine also has the medical DPA for my Grandma. Which means once she's there, she will have to make that tough decision as to what to do next. What a huge responsibility for her, and I'm glad that my Mom ... the one sibling probably with the most faith and spirituality ... will be there with this Aunt. In any case, if you guys can continue to say prayers for my family ... I'd very much appreciate it. All of your wonderful thoughts and sentiments have worked wonders thus far ... and for that I am incredibly grateful. Well, so this short post turned out longer than I thought. But thought I'd shoot a "quick" one out before the rest of my day starts. It'll be a busy one as I attempt to replace my lost MI driver's license and do a little more shopping (cheaper here with the 6% sales tax, versus the 10+% in IL) before we head out of town again. But at least now this once-Bride of Frankenstein will be united with her Groom. Again, thanks for all the warm thoughts and prayers for my family. Please please please ... keep them coming!

Bone Tired

Emily — Thu, 02 Apr 2009 15:22:39 +0000

Okay ... so I know I'm bone tired and exhausted when:

I'm struggling to get up Every. D*mn. Morning.
The alarm clock has been going off for almost an hour and I've slept through it Every. D*mn. Morning.
I can remember my dreams in great detail Every. D*mn Morning.

Last night's dream just happened to be a dream where I was telling an old grade school friend (someone I haven't seen or even heard from in over 20 years) how I've been struggling to stay asleep at night and how exhausted I am Every. D*mn. Morning. Talk about art imitating Life. Except of course, the "art" in this case is my dream. Between settling in to a new routine with Hubby (YAY!) and being pretty darn busy at work (Boo ... ), I've spent quite a bit of energy by the end of the day. Our Kozzy-girl is loving city life ... walks at least three times a day to do her "business" and LOTS of new sites, sounds and people to overstimulate her. Those walks also exhaust both Hubby and I, as it's been quite a trip trying to "tame" our ADHD / Bicycle-hating / "socially" aggressive (to other dogs only ...) "beast." It's definitely been a lesson in patience with her; but one that is rewarding when we see how absolutely happy she's become. In time, we hope to get her socially acclimated to other doggies. She loves people ... it's just other "doggies" where she starts to get anxious. I'm so happy that Hubby's here now that I just can't seem to stop grinning. I mean ... even the "verbal warning" I received at work in regards to my wardrobe choices (more on this later), had me laughing in stitches. Yes, nothing seems to bother me as much now that Hubby and I are reunited. I'm hoping that Hubby starts to feel more settled as well. I know I had a little bit of adjustment when I first came here, but at least I had a new job to focus my energy on. For Hubby, who will be working on a contract basis with his now-former employer, I think it will be different. Not only is it a change in city and lifestyle, but it's a change in his overall daily routine. (Not to mention that he's the one that gets to walk Kozzy during the day!) But I hope he knows how grateful I am that he's here ... and that he was willing to make the move to Chicago with me. As for Grandma ... I've heard nothing over the past four days. I just left a message with my Dad back in MI to see if he's heard anything either. I'm still hoping that no news is good news and that my Mom made it to the Philippines safely and that Grandma is still holding on ... at least until my "East Coast" Aunts and Uncles make it back home to see her and hold her one last time. I'm still not ruling out any miracles right now ... but I'm just hoping and praying for the best. Again, thanks for all the warm fuzzy thoughts and prayers and positive vibes. Please keep them coming ... My Grandma and my Mom & Siblings sure can use them. As for the whole work wardrobe thingy ... well, let's just simply say that someone should nominate me for TLC's "What Not To Wear." I believe that my wardrobe choices for what I consider "Business Casual" may not be up to par with what my big bosses think. Perhaps it's the piggy tails. Or perhaps it's the Doc Martens I wear with my khaki's or Docker pants. Or maybe the big bosses don't think a supervisor should be wearing polo collar tops. I don't know ... but I guess I should be trying to dress more "age-appropriate" as a supervisor. The issue is that the non-materialistic "non-girly girl" person in me can't fathom shelling out that much money on clothing I just don't feel comfortable in. That ... and I always thought that the quality of my work and my work ethic should count for and speak volumes more than what I wear. But hey ... if I could only get that $5000 spending money, the free trip to NYC, and S.tacy & Cli.nton to tell me what not to wear ... Well, I suppose I should get back to actually doing work. (Imagine that!) My goal is to get out of her in time to watch the last episode of "ER" tonite ... Until next post ...

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"Twee - R"

Emily — Fri, 03 Apr 2009 17:10:37 +0000

Last night was the end of an era. Well, at least for me anyway. And perhaps for the 16.2 million people who watched the last episode of “ER.”

[caption id="attachment_1608" align="alignright" width="214" caption="The Original Cast"][/caption]

This show came out the year that I graduated from Nursing School and during that first fall season of me living in my own apartment. That same year was also the season premiere of “Friends” and the second season of both “Seinfeld” and “Mad About You.” For me, after having spent many Thursday nights in college at the bar, Thursdays on NBC in the fall of 1994 was the return of my “Must See TV” moments.

“ER” came out at the perfect time for me. I was finally getting used to being on my own. I had probably just gotten off my intense orientation period as a new Registered Nurse at the hospital. Watching the show just brought out all the drama and excitement of what can go on during any given shift for me at work. While I didn’t work in an actual ER, working the afternoon shift on a post-surgical floor certainly did have that same quick environment. Not only were we getting all those patients back from the operating rooms for post-recovery care, but we were also getting those patients that came through the ER earlier in the day and now were finally assigned a hospital bed. And since we dealt with many of the chronically sick patients with gastrointestinal (GI) problems (Crohns, Ulcerative Colitis, and any garden-variety of patients with cancer of the GI tract) … the afternoon shift was the one responsible for providing them with their 24 hour caloric intake through their IV lines (otherwise known as Total Parental Nutrition). And trust me … those were a pain to “hang.” [caption id="attachment_1609" align="alignleft" width="187" caption="Gorgeous George! And remember Se.an Ast.in's brother, Mac.kenzie?"][/caption]

So basically what I’m getting at is that watching “ER” resembled the chaos of what could happen when I was at work. And being 22 years old at that time, all that excitement was … well, it was Pretty. D*mn. Exciting.

And the “original cast.” Yeah, there was something about that group of characters that I fell in love with. It didn’t help that I already had a crush on Geo.rge Cloo.ney from his days on “The Facts of Life.” But Anth.ony Edwa.rds, Sher.ry Stri.ngfield, Er.iq Las.alle, Jul.ian.a Mar.guili.es, and No.ah Wy.lie … not only were they excellent actors, but the way they portrayed their characters was incredible.

I must admit the last 5 years I only caught a handful of episodes here and there. And that's mostly because all, but No.ah from the original cast were long gone. However, this past season, I made an effort to try to watch all of them. That one episode where Dr. Greene "returns" as a flashback was awesome. And not only was Dr. Greene there, but Dr. Romano also made a guest experience. And we won't even go into the Dr. Ross and Carol episode ... I was just ecstatic that they all made the effort to come back for one last reprise of their roles.

[caption id="attachment_1610" align="alignright" width="210" caption="Betcha you forgot about Anth.ony Edw.ards in this movie!"][/caption]

In any case, I plopped myself down in the front of the TV last night at 7 pm CST to watch the retrospective. I forgot how groundbreaking the show was in terms of the way it was shot and the quick paced dialogue. I realize now that some of the other shows I’ve loved have since utilized those techniques. “Push.ing Dai.sies” has used the steady-cam shots in quite a few of their scenes. And of course “Gilm.ore Girls” had that razor sharp dialogue. While I know those two shows have nothing to do with medicine or health care … to this day, I just haven’t found a medical drama that combines those two elements like “ER” did.

While watching the show last night, I sat in front of my MacBook and did another new favorite activity (besides FaceBook and blogging) … and that’s Twi.tter. Below is a few of those Twi.tter Tweets I posted last night …

Weird seeing Rory Gilmore as an intern at Cook County ER ... .
Oh. Em. Gee. Just realized who that Med Student is ... yep, Rachel Greene. WOW! ER has come full circle. .
See? Was I right or was I right?! Brings a tear to my eye ... .
Love how Angela Bassett's character is interviewing Mark Greene's daughter. What a great way to tie their stories together ... .
Love it love it love it! Love how Carter is mentoring Mark's daughter. Just like Mark did for Carter on his first day. Oh how I'll miss ER. .
I've been following ER since I first graduated from Nursing School ... *gasp* FIFTEEN YEARS ago! .
*RIGHT ON* Nurses ROCK! .
Sigh ... Thanks for fifteen great years, ER. I've loved "growing up" professionally with you.

For those of you that don’t understand the concept of Twi.tter, it’s a way to quickly let a network of friends or “followers” know what you’re thinking or doing. It’s similar to what Fa.ceBooke.rs do when they update their status. But the catch is … in Twi.tter, you’re limited to only 140 characters.

I admit it was confusing for me as to why I’d want to do yet another computer-related social activity. However, once I got the hang of it … I was addicted! (It also doesn’t help that there’s an application on Fa.ceBoo.k” that automatically updates your status with whatever you posted on Twi.tter.)

And really, what started out as a basic means to update people on what a person was up to (commonly known as “Tweets”) has now grown into a phenomenon. Because now … not only are individuals using it as a social medium, major companies and corporations are using it to get a “pulse” as to what their consumers are saying about them. After all, Twi.tter is essentially publicity for them, whether good or bad.

I could, or rather my Hubby could go into much more detail about what other uses there are for Twi.tter … but I *WILL* tell you what I’ve used it for. And that’s to use it as free “advertising” to direct people to my blog. Yay for higher blog subscriptions!

So there you have it. All you ever wanted to know about “Twee – R” and more.

Tell me folks … do you Twi.tter, too?

And if you caught last night’s “ER” series finale … what did you think?

XX's and OO's needed

Emily — Sat, 04 Apr 2009 04:17:47 +0000

Well, it's official. My 99-year old Grandma is off the respirator as of about 9 am Friday morning, CST. That would have made it 10 pm Friday evening there in the Philippines. They have also stopped her dialysis and heart medications ... and as of 2 pm CST, she's still been breathing on her own. All this is news that I've gathered by emails from my cousin in CT, because silly me managed to leave her cell phone on Monday back in Detroit. Which means I've been without a phone for the past 4 days. I have called to talk to my Dad, who in turn, has only been able to talk directly to my Mom once or twice since she left the States. But any news he received was far less than what my awesome cousin has been telling me. And before you ask why I haven't been able to call myself ... well, it's because Hubby & I actually don't have the ability to make international calls at this moment. Neither by our cell phones nor our land line digital phones (through Com-crap). What I should do is go to the nearest Filipino or Asian market and pick up a phone card. And then call ... if I can only get the time difference straight. (As in, should I call at 4 am CST which would make it 5 pm there? Or should I call 5 pm CST which would make it 6 am the next morning there? So confusing ... ) Plus there's also the fact that (other than those basic naughty words) I can't speak or understand Tagolog ... UGH ... it's times like this that I didn't feel "torn" between to worlds. All I really want is to be with my Mom and my Grandma. I miss them terribly! And my heart is breaking, knowing that my Grandma will soon be gone and I won't be able to be there to hug or kiss her good-bye ... especially since it's been years since I've physically kissed and hugged her since she moved back "home" to the Philippines. Anyway, I just wanted to post quickly with an updated. Again, thanks for all the wonderful thoughts and prayers. Please please please ... keep them coming! Now all I'm asking for is that my Aunt and Uncles make it back "home" in time to say their goodbyes. I believe they're all scheduled to leave on Monday ... with the hopes that they will arrive Tuesday evening (Filipino Time). I would just really want my Grandma to be surrounded by all her children before she moves on to the next world ...

Clean Feat

Emily — Thu, 09 Apr 2009 04:04:09 +0000

Today is considered a "Holy Day" in the Catholic faith. It's the Thursday before Easter; the day before Good Friday. For those that are not familiar with it's significance, Holy Thursday is more or less the day that Catholics celebrate "The Last Supper." It's the day in which Jesus breaks bread with the 12 Apostles for the very last time. It's the day in which Jesus prays to God in the Garden of Gesthemane to provide him with the strength he will very much need the next day. It is also the day where one of his own Apostles, Judas, betrays him. Yes, I know I've said it time and time again ... I am NOT a very "good" Catholic. I believe in God and Jesus. I believe that the death of Jesus was the ultimate sacrifice for mankind. I am just not much of a "practicer" in the Catholic faith. No, I don't go to mass weekly. No, I don't participate in the sacraments religiously (no pun intended). But what I get out of my belief in God and Jesus (and yes, the Holy Spirit, too) is the sense of spirituality. The sense that there are certain things that are well beyond my control. That there is a higher being watching over me. Wow ... I think that's the most I've really "talked" about religion in a very long time. But seriously, there is a point to this all. The other thing that is both the backbone and the bane of Catholicism's existence is its traditions. The "bane" of it being that it takes waaaaaaay too long for change to come to Catholicism ... which tends to drive those that are otherwise "believers" away once a situation (like, let's say IVF for infertility) butts up against an individual's personal beliefs. I've had many many many friends from my Catholic-school childhood fall victim to this. Me included. But it's those traditions that sometimes keep a person tied to their faith as well. Personally, there are certain things ... like Advent and Lent that I enjoy about my religion. These "seasons" are richly filled with tradition and purpose; but they are also filled with symbolism as well. Advent ... a time to prepare for the birth of Jesus which could also symbolize the birth of a "new year" or "new life." And Lent ... a time of self-reflection, of forgiveness of one's self and others; a time to "give up" something of importance in order to understand what it is like to sacrifice something for others. Yes ... it's those symbolisms in Catholicism that I truly enjoy. One such tradition that occurs today, on Holy Thursday, is the washing of feet. Yes ... you read it right; the washing of feet. During Holy Thursday mass, the priest will literally wash the feet of 12 people in the congregation. What, may you ask, is the symbolism behind this act? Well first of all, this is literally an act that Jesus performed on all of his Apostles shortly after the Last Supper. It seemed like a strange thing to do because really, why would the "Son of God" perform such a menial task on those that were brought together to serve him? Now I can't be certain without doing a major google search, but I have always taken this part of the service to mean two things. First of all, it's a symbolism of purifying one's soul/sole in order for this person to fully comprehend the assignment of which he/she has been given in life. A way of cleansing any self doubt. And second of all, I believe that this tradition is a practice in humility. If the "Son of God" should perform such a menial task to others ... then we, as Catholics, should be able to participate in our share of menial tasks in order to understand humility. Yes yes .... I'm finally getting to the point of this rambling. So here goes. The reason I'm bringing this all up today is not just because today is literally "Holy Thursday." The reason I'm giving you such a lesson is because today I received my lessons in purity and humility. That's because today ... I finally got to talk directly to my Mom in the Philippines. And I've finally heard the news about how my Grandma is doing ... straight from the horse's mouth. And that has got me feeling just a little less anxious because now I know for myself that my Grandma is actually doing okay. And when I mean okay; I do mean that Grandma has been breathing on her own since last Friday. To top it off, she has been discharged home from the hospital in order to be surrounded by those she loves. Her IV's have been discontinued, and she's responsive to touch and pain. However, she's still getting her feedings through a tube and well, she really cannot talk. But considering where she was two weeks ago ... this is absolutely incredible that she has such strength inside of her. And that has taught me the lesson of humility. That we can prepare for the very worse and things could turn out better than we think. God (and Grandma, too) could have other things planned that we are still not aware of. And purity? Well ... it's a stretch, but the fact that I was able to talk to my Grandma on the phone ... well, that was pure joy. As my Mom held the phone up to my Grandma, I told her how much I loved her and missed her deeply. I told her that I wish she could stay strong and get better, but that if she couldn't do so ... I would understand. I told her that I just wanted for her to be peaceful and happy. And while I knew I wouldn't get to hear her beautiful voice respond to me, I just knew that she understood what I said. That purity of heart and soul inside my Grandma ... that is something I've always seen in my every interactions in the past with her. And that is what I felt today. I miss my Mom. And I miss my Grandma, my Lola. And if I could be there to "wash" their feet ... to show them some humility and purity (well, as pure as I can get) ... I totally would. Grandma, you continue to surprise every single one of us with your strength. I love you and I just want you to be in peace. I'm praying for you and for all of our family members ... that we will pull through with the amazing grace that you've always shown us. Thank you for your strength in heart and humility.

A Rose is a Rose

Emily — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 02:21:35 +0000

I know many of my IRL friends know this, but my given name is a variation of both of my Grandmothers' names. My first name is my Dad's mom, and my "first" middle name* is my Mom's mom. Coincidentally it is also my Mom's name, as she was named after her mom. With that said, both my Mom and Grandmother's name is a variation of the name Rose. And therefore, my official name on my birth certificate is listed as Emily Rose. This middle name; the given name of my Grandma is something that bonds all the female cousins on my Mom's side of the family. Every single one of us has some variation of the name "Rose" in our name. It's something that I've always thought was wonderful to share ... and at the same time, wonderful to feel such a strong connection to our Grandmother. Why am I telling you this? It's because tonight I received the dreaded news that I've been expecting for the past two and a half weeks. Yes, tonight (or rather Friday morning in the Philippines), heaven received another angel. My Grandma Rose passed away. While I'm happy that she is no longer suffering**, I can't help but be incredibly sad. And while it's been literally years since I've last seen her face-to-face, I am going to miss knowing she is here on this earth with me. Because regardless of where she was in this world, I always seemed to sense her presence around me; guiding me like she did when I was a baby and then a toddler. Singing songs with me as I learned my alphabet other important things (after all, she was always the consummate teacher her entire life). Slipping me candy treats from her purse whenever Mom wasn't looking. I know she will be watching over me up their in the heavens. And I know that she will continue to guide me throughout my life. But it still doesn't stop me from shedding these tears. And feeling as if my world is a little less joyful. At least for now. [caption id="attachment_1638" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="This is Grandma Rose at 99 years old. The picture was taken by one of my cousins earlier this year. Isn't she absolutely beautiful?"][/caption] I love you, Grandma and I will miss you. Please say hi to Grandpa for me ... and to all our other family members who have gone ahead of me. I am happy that you are finally resting peacefully ...

*****

And THANK YOU to everyone out there who has said prayers for my family. I strongly believe that it was all of your thoughts and prayers that allowed me to "speak" to my Grandma last night (Thursday morning in the Philippines) for the very last time.

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* Filipinos have a weird thing about names. With me, my parents wanted to name me after both grandmothers so they provided me with TWO middle names; my maternal grandmother's name (Rose) and, as tradition dictates, my Mom's maiden name. ** In my Grandma's case, "suffering" refers to the fact that she most likely suffered a major stroke, leaving her with little ability to move ... let alone communicate. And as my Grandma always had a fondness for words and conversation, I know that she was probably in extreme distress about not being able to talk.

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Emily — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 02:24:17 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 23:51:02 +0000

The Inexplicable Feeling of Loss

Emily — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 23:54:09 +0000

I fully admit it. I'm addicted to watching certain tween shows. HSM? Loved it ... have such a crush on Z.ac Ef.ron that just seem so .... wrong. (But then I think of D.emi and As.hton and go, "Hmmm ....") Li.zzie McGu.ire (especially the movie)? Yep, like that too. So it was no surprise to Hubby when I told him I wanted to see Ha.nnah Mon.tana: The Movie. (Hey, what can I say? Being the music chick I was even at an early age, I always "wished" I could be a Rock Star!) So today we headed off to the movie theatre and sat amongst many a grade school/middle school girls with their friends/parents and watched the movie. And even Hubby had to admit it .... that it was actually quite good. And "good" as in not a glorified Hollywood version of the TV show. That was most likely due to the fact that the movie was set primarily in Tennessee (now whether it was actually filmed there, I don't know). For those of you that don't know the story behind Ha.nnah Mon.tana, the show is based on the life of Mi.ley Stewa.rt, a teenager (Mi.ley Cy.rus) from Crowley Corners, TN who moves with her father, Rob.by Ray (Bi.lly Ray Cy.rus) and older brother to Malibu, CA to follow her rising career in music. In order to to live a "normal" teenager's life outside of the music business, Miley and her father develop her alter-ego, Ha.nnah Mon.tana, to be her Rock Star persona. Trying to keep a duel-life prompts hilarity, a-la-Disney Channel style. The movie was definitely a change in pace from the TV series in that Mi.ley returns "home" to Tennessee for a father-ordered "Ha.nnah" rehab. And it is, in general, the story of a teenager trying to find her true self amongst the pressures of being pulled in fifty zillion directions. And yes ... I'm totally a sucker for those kind of movies. (Hellooo ... "Pretty In Pink" anyone? "Some Kind of Wonderful"?!) So if anyone loves those types of plots ... I totally recommend it to you. Yes, it has its cheesy moment, but it's at the very least ... rental-worthy. The point of this post really was not to do a film review of this movie. After all, even though I write about a variety of different topics here, this blog is still primarily about dealing with my inability to have children. It's a blog about loss. So what does "Ha.nnah Mon.tana" have to do about loss? Well first of all, let's talk about the fact that we were surrounded by leagues of tweens and even more 6-9 year old girls. And let's talk about the moms that they were with. As I looked around, I saw that many of the women taking their kids to see the movie were right around my age. Which would have probably made them anywhere between 22 to 30 years of age when they had their kids. And seeing their interactions with these girls ... well, yeah ... why shouldn't it break my heart just a little? After all, this is what I would have done for my girl if I ever had one. I would have let them dress up in all their "Ha.nnah Mon.tana" clothes and let them "pretend" to be a Rock Star. I would have stood in line early at the theatre to try to get the best seats in the house (dead center of the theatre). I would have asked them to invite their best friend along. I would have done all that, if that was something that they really wanted. And if I ever had the daughter to do this for. But alas, that isn't the case. And therefore it's Hubby and I that sat at the end of the row, discussing how that dad or Grandpa (along with Hubby, himself) was a wonderful man to endure sitting through a movie just for their daughter/granddaughter. And how we would totally do these things for our kids just because we loved them. The second part that got to me were the various parts of the movie where Mi.ley talks about her mom (played in flashbacks in the TV show by Bro.oke Shi.elds). Su.san Stewa.rt apparently died three years before the series began. (Not in real life; just the show. Mi.ley Cy.rus' mom is still alive.) And it's those moments when she reflects as to whether or not her mom would be proud of her if she were still alive ... those were the moments that had me unexpectedly bawling my eyes out. At first I couldn't understand why it was that I was dropping those crocodile-sized tears. To a Tweener Movie, nonetheless. But then I reflected on what happened to me yesterday at work when my manager (who was off that day) called me in regards to an email she wanted me to send. She apparently noticed something in my voice because she asked me what was wrong. That took me by surprise as I didn't realize I sounded anything different than how I normally was. So when she asked, I told her about my Grandma Rose ... and then I suddenly felt my eyes swelling up with tears. Totally unexpected because I thought my waterworks were otherwise under control; but apparently not. And that's when she told me to go home; to take the time to mourn. To use my bereavement time that I was entitled for. At first I resisted; saying that the funeral was in the Philippines. I mean, it's not like I was going to actually be attending a funeral service/mass. Plus, I figured that as long as I kept myself busy I wouldn't think about how sad I actually was. But apparently, that's not what Grandma Rose wanted me to do. Because no sooner than I had told my manager I was going to stay until the end of the day ... we received the news that the department would be closing early for the day. So I took that as a sign to use my bereavement time for this coming Monday. In any case, this inexplicable feeling of loss ... this sadness I have over the passing of Grandma Rose ... is something I know I'm going to have a hard time getting over. Even now as I type this, I'm starting to well up in tears again. There are moments, like sitting at the local Borders and reading magazines, when I'm perfectly fine and happy. And then there are these moments when all I want to do is cry over the loss of my Grandma.

: In 1973, Grandma was awarded a plaque for 43 years of service with the Bureau of Public Schools (another pic "borrowed" from yet another cousin!)

The irony of this all is that this feeling of loss ... well, it's the same loss I felt (or rather, still feel) over the many months of negative pregnancy tests, the failed IVF attempt ... and even the loss of my one frozen embryo that we "let go" one year after that IVF cycle. It's this sadness that's so difficult to explain ... to write down into words. Whether it's the loss of the ability to create or sustain life, or the loss of a well-lived life ... it's still the loss of life. And as evidenced by today's reaction to seeing mom's around the same age as I am taking their kids to the movies ... I still have those days (five years after IVF) where that feeling of loss surrounding my infertility are still very potent and strong. But there are also those days where I can take it in stride. The same thing, I know, will happen with my feelings over the loss of my Grandma. There will be those days where all I think are the happy moments I had with her and how incredibly full her life was. But there will also be those days ... like today ... where all I can feel is that inexplicable feeling of loss. And this ... this is yet another lesson I've learned from my experienced with infertility. And yet another lesson that my Grandma (who remained a schoolteacher up until her 80's ) has taught me in life. Thank you for that one last lesson, Grandma Rose.

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Emily — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 23:59:21 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 12 Apr 2009 00:01:15 +0000

Un-"Self"-ish

Emily — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 01:49:23 +0000

I know. It's been a week and nary-a-new post. And truly ... for months I've been finding little to no time to comment on other friends' blogs. Thank you for those that still stick around and read about my silly (and lately, not-so-silly) ramblings. And before I go any further, I just want to send out a ti-gantic (as opposed to ginormous) hug to absolutely everyone out there in the cyberworld for all the warm sentiments and prayers sent my way over the past three weeks. I know my Grandma would be absolutely amazed by the sheer number of people that have expressed such loving and caring thoughts about my love and respect for her both here on my bloggie ... and in my Fac.ebo.ok world. Thank you thank you THANK YOU! Okay ... I'm sure I'll have more posts about how I'm dealing with this loss. And I'm sure I'll have even more posts about the week (last week) that my nephew came to visit on his "Spring Break." Or the subsequent trip he's making this weekend with his mom and step-dad and sister. But since I spent a lot of time writing the following blurb below ... I figured I'd share it with you. But first ... a little preface. My good bloggie friend sent a "call out" for some assistance with a paper that she's writing for her Philosophy class this semester. The premise of her paper is to cite examples in which life-altering events or times of crisis cause a person to question his or her sense of self ... and ultimately a shift in his or her outlook of life and the world. * So yeah. What better life-altering event might there be than going through infertility and subsequent treatments? And the after-effects of failed treatments? And the ultimate decision to give up that dream of creating a family with the love of your life ... at least for now? You bet I answered the call. And because the questions she posed certainly had my noggin working overtime ... and because, quite frankly I'm too tired, as of late, to write a "proper" post ... I decided to post a copy of my answers here. So without further ado ...

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Hello, Interviewees! Thank you in advance for your willingness to help me complete my senior thesis by participating in my interview call. The purpose of these questions is to glean from a wide audience the ways in which we define our sense of self, and what happens when we feel that there has been a change in that sense of self. All responses will be kept anonymous, but for my own tracking purposes (if, for instance, I want clarification on one of your answers) and for the purposes of sorting responses, please fill out the following demographic information: Name: Emily (Apron Strings) Age: 36 (yikes!) Gender: Female Marital Status: Married Religious Affiliation (if any): Catholic And now, the questions:

Do you believe that you have undergone a significant shift in your sense of self? (Please note that if your answer is “No”, then the rest of these questions will be irrelevant to you!) . I believe I have. .
What do you feel precipitated this shift? Was there a specific event or point in time? Was the change gradual or sudden? . Hindsight is always 20/20. I’ve been dealing with infertility for most of my married life which makes this time period well over 12 years. I didn’t recognize how much I’ve changed since dealing with infertility until about two years ago. This makes me believe that this change has been gradual. .
Describe yourself both before and after the change. What areas of you life or aspects of your self were most significantly impacted? . When my husband and I first started out on making our family, I was a pretty optimistic and overall happy person. I saw things as half-full and I saw possibilities in just about every avenue of my life. Mostly I saw the ability, with hard work and effort, to achieve any dream or goal I put my heart into. . At the peak of my infertility treatments, I can recall becoming more of a pessimistic person. I began to think that there seemed to be no use to going through the monthly regimen of ultrasounds and medications where I would have to poke myself with a needle. “Why bother hurting myself?” I can recall thinking. “I’m just going to end up disappointed once again.” . In other words, why did I have to put any effort into this dream or goal of being able to create a life with my husband … when, at the end of the month, I’m still not going to achieve that dream? . At first I tried to avoid allowing my Infertility “issues” and subsequent change in “self” to infiltrate my life outside of my personal life between my husband and myself. However; the longer I remained in my “infertile” and pessimistic world, the more it infiltrated my social and work lives. . Socially, I began to isolate myself. It started out whenever I attended any social gatherings. I’d inevitably get the “Still not pregnant?” questions which I would, in the beginning, answer politely. And when I would explain to them our situation, it appeared as if the conversation would turn “awkward” for the person I was speaking to. After a while, the more I got asked the question, I’d feel more hurt and angrier at them. And the less I’d want to talk to anyone in a social situation. Therefore, because of my negative responses and actions (refusing to participate in further “children” discussions), people stopped asking me any questions (child-related or not). After a period of time, I stopped getting any invitations to gatherings. This then resulted in further isolation. . In work, instead of being the highly driven, goal-oriented person, I began to be the person that would always find things “wrong” with the current situation. Worse is that I became the person I've always dreaded working with; the one who was always complaining / whining about any and every issue but would never offer any resolutions. .
How have others viewed your shift? What has the external response been? Are people quick to adjust or slow, positive or negative, etc.? . . The first person that ever brought up this “change” was my husband. And honestly, it’s because he is the closest person to me. He has been good about telling me when I’ve “crossed” the line from being just “dejected and hurt” to being “negative and hurtful” to others and other situations. And because both of us were going through infertility, that was hard for me to hear without feeling as if I was hurting him in the process, too. However, my husband has always been very supportive and has overall been great at adjusting to any situation. In other words, he was quick to adjust to the changes within me and has been a positive force in helping me realize what had changed. He is absolutely excellent in me and in “reeling” me back in any given situation when needed. . Socially, I’ve not had many people “comment” about the change in me, but never directly address it with me. I think it’s mainly because infertility is such a hard subject to talk about for other people. And quite frankly, I don’t see any other way that someone might bring up this “change” in me without first having to discuss my infertility issues. With that said, I believe socially … people have been overall negative and slow to adjust to this change. . At work, the only example I can give you is this: The year before I found out about my SIL’s pregnancy, my annual work performance review (for 2007) was “excellent.” The following year’s review (for 2008), which occurred after the birth and subsequent death of my nephew, Liam, and the announcement of this same SIL’s latest pregnancy … well, let’s just say that my performance review was less than stellar. Add to the fact that my former boss wanted to put me on a “corrective action plan” based on my attitude (and not my work or work ethics, by the way) … well, as you can see, the people at work were very slow to adjust and overall negative to this change. .
What has been your response to the shift? Have you undergone a shift in behavior or habits or lifestyle? What about in the way you judge your own (or others’) actions? . I absolutely hate the fact that I’ve become the person I am … or rather was during this period in my life. And I do say that in “past tense” because I am actively trying to change back to who I was before infertility changed me to the negative person I am today.   With that said, I have undergone a shift in behavior, habits and lifestyle … and I’ve done / am doing it twice, thus far, in my life. I’ll break it down into the two phases: During Infertility (DI) and After Niece’s Birth (ANB). . DI: My behavior consisted of thinking of all negative outcomes to any given situation and acting on what the negative outcome would be (even if the outcome could be or ended up being positive). Using the social life as an example; even though a good friend might be having a baby shower … because this was a “baby” related event, I would avoid going to it without any given explanation and assume I’d have everyone, including this friend, be pissed off at me. Whereas the truth is, if I was up front with this friend about why I couldn’t go, I was more apt to elicit a favorable response and a perhaps form even stronger bond with this friend. (I’m just sayin’ … it could be possible!). Suffice to say, doing things like avoiding “baby” related things has changed the various habits we may have (avoiding baby aisle at various stores, including grocery stores, as an example) and the lifestyle we live (difficulty in relating to friends who now have children of their own; difficulty finding “childless” couples to hang out with that are around our age). . ANB: After the birth of my niece (my SIL’s pregnancy after my 5 month old nephew had passed), I went through a very very negative period in my life. And honestly, I would have thought that going through the previous pregnancy would have prepared me for this one. But the thing is, my SIL’s pregnancy with my niece was much smoother and very uneventful that I almost had no recourse but to think I was “okay” with it. It’s only after my niece was born that all this anger and negativity and pessimism rose again … and to its highest degree, may I add. But it was my reactions to the birth of my niece that made me realize how much I hated what I became. And it was the catalyst for me to change. . So as I type, I can tell you what changes have occurred since last September. (1) I moved out of state – while it may seem that I’m “running away” from the issue at hand, I view it as giving me some breathing room to decompress and grow out of the shell I isolated myself in for so many years. (2) I’ve started a new job – again, not to “run away” from my problems from my previous place of work. No, this is another attempt at growth … because instead of going to work daily “just to get paid,” I am going to work with a purpose and with a challenge and end goal in mind. That, alone, is a big feat … because my end goal is no longer focused on creating the family that may never come … but it’s a goal that I can work hard at and eventually achieve the results I desire. And finally, (3) Since moving, I’ve found myself making a conscious effort to find the positive in any given situation and run with it. I try to make the most of what I’ve been given and try not to think too much of the “What If’s” or “Why’s”. I’m trying to think of the future with a positive outcome … it might not be what I imagined or dreamed or planned it to be, but it will still be a good one. .
Do you believe that you are fundamentally the same person now as you were before your shift? Describe as best you can what leads you to the conclusion to which you come. Specifically, what factors do you use to determine your core sense of self? . I think that there is part of me that still remains the core person I was before infertility came into my life. I think that my sense of values as to what is important in my life remains the same. If I weren’t that person anymore, then there would be no way that I’d be making the conscious effort to try to return to who I was before my core was shaken. . However, I am realistic enough to know that I cannot … nor will I ever be … the same person I was 12 years ago. There have been too many events and experienced I’ve encountered in between those years that has shaped me into who I am today. . I almost prefer to think that 12 years ago I was just plain naïve about the rest of the world. I can understand how physical loss (-ie- the death of a loved-one / child / parent / sibling / other relative) or physical illness (-ie- pick your choice of terminal diagnoses, psychiatric diagnoses, or even life-changing circumstances like para- or quadriplegia) can be life-altering. However, I had no idea that something as “tragic” as the inability to create a life would break my heart into a million pieces and rock my sense of self to its very core. I had no idea that infertility would force me to look at who I was … and who I still know is “buried” inside of me today. . The difference is now I have hindsight to refer to. I can still retain that “self” I was before infertility, but now I can alter it (based on my past experiences) to reflect the true strength I’ve acquired over the past 12 years. I can still be that optimistic person with life goals ahead of her, but realize that there are some goals in life that I might never achieve … even if I work very hard at it. I can still be the same person who values family … even though my family consists of my husband and me with our three furbabies. And even if our responsibilities to the “younger” generation consists of being the best Auntie and Uncle in the world. I can still be the person who values responsibility … and still respect that there are some responsibilities that I am not responsible for. . I’m not quite sure I fully answered this last question appropriately, but this is the best answer I can come up with.

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Well I must admit, I used up all my brain power answering these questions. And because I know I'll be having yet another busy (but fun) weekend ... this might be all I'll be posting for now.

But between the rest of the blogiverse and me, I'd be quite happy lying on my newest piece of I.kea furniture and doing absolutely nothing ... (Oh, who am I kidding ... I will be enjoying the time spent with my niece and nephew!)

Yet again, thanks for reading my ever-so-interesting ramblings. And once more, thanks for all the wonderful bloggie love I've gotten over the past few weeks.

* Okay, Ms. Kate. I hope I didn't slaughter your thesis. Eek!

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Emily — Sat, 18 Apr 2009 05:36:00 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 02:39:01 +0000

McSnippets!

Emily — Thu, 23 Apr 2009 02:40:18 +0000

A few weeks ago, Hubby and I spent another one of our Detroit Saturday nights at our favorite Hole-In-The-Wall with our friend, J. It's becoming a tradition to do this every Saturday we're back in the Detroit area. First of all, it gives us a chance to get our fix of the best d*mn burgers in the area. And second, we get to have some great conversation with a great friend. That Saturday we were talking about childhood memories. The kind of memories that no one else but one or the other could remember. The ones that everyone else might think was crazy and make-believe. But the ones we knew in our minds were true. For the life of me, I can't remember what memory J had that neither Hubby or I could place in the back of our minds. And I wish I could ... because then I'd want to see if anyone else out here in the blogosphere would know what he was talking about. As for me ... I had two specific memories. Neither of which was "google"-able about three years ago. The first one I had was almost a blur-like memory. A mini-TV show that played between shows on the local PBS-like station. They reminded me of the "Scho.olho.use Rocks" series in that it would always have some sort of lesson to learn. However, unlike "Scho.olho.use Rocks," they'd always be aired during weekday afternoons. And instead of being cartoons, they would be budget-friendly claymation figures. But whenever I brought this up to any of my friends that grew up in the same area at around the same time period, no one could ever remember "Snippets." In fact, I've been accused once or twice of making it up in my mind. Except now I'm here to prove that they did exist ... because since the last time I googled the show, it appears that other people were remembering and wondering the same thing. The second one is a little more personal. That same Saturday night, I told J and my Hubby about this memory I had about a Ron.ald Mc.Don.ald character that neither of them could remember. All I could remember was that it was a pirate-like character and that I saw a statue of him somewhere at an outdoor McDon.aldland playground out in front of the actual restaurant. (Remember when they used to have swingsets and merry-go-rounds located in a brick courtyard directly in front of the restaurant?) Both J and Hubby laughed at me, informing me that I surely must have mistaken this pirate with the Ham.burgl.ar. And furthermore stating that perhaps my love for Johnny Depp's Captain Jack obviously extended back into my early childhood. But see the thing is, I knew in the recess of my mind that I had a picture taken in front of this pirate. And so the next morning, before we left our home to return back to Chicago, I went rummaging through some of the old photo albums I managed to (a-hem) "borrow" from my parents. And lo and behold ... I managed to find proof of said pirate. After showing Hubby, I told him that I now had to scan this picture in and share it with J ... just to prove him wrong. But then I promptly forgot about it ... until the other day at work ,when rummaging through my bag, I stumbled on said picture. Of course, then I had to show it around the office and relay to them the conversation I had with Hubby and J. And now that I had my solid proof, I told my co-workers, I had to find out exactly who this character was. Well, duh ... since I'm officially now living in the state in which McDo.nald's was founded, it didn't take me that long to find out the name of said character. Captain Crook (which was later shortened to just "The Captain") was similar to that of the Ham.burglar ... except instead of stealing burgers he was known to steal Filet-o-fish sandwiches. And apparently it was Officer Big Mac who would try to catch him. The Captain and Big Mac apparently got the cut in the early 80's when McDon.aldla.nd began to streamline its characters. Don't ask me how the Fry Guys (aka the "Gobblins") and Birdie made the cut ... along with Gri.mace. I mean seriously ... what exactly is Gri.mace supposed to be?! * So there you go ... apparently I really don't pull things out of thin air (or from my a$$, as others might say). But ain't it a sad state of affairs when I can remember silly trivial things ... and yet I struggle with remembering where I last put my cell phone? Don't answer that. Somehow, I can already hear all those responses to that rhetorical question. Hmmph ...

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* Silly side note: Filipinos use a vegetable called ube (pronounced like e.Bay, but with an"ooh") in many sweet desserts. The color of ube is remarkably like the color of Gri.mace. My Hubby had this way of teasing his younger cousins that any desserts made of ube was actually bits and pieces of Gri.mace. Yeah ... he devastated his poor cousins who really thought they were eating Ron.ald Mc.Don.ald's friend!

NIAW 2009

Emily — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 20:18:52 +0000

So ... you all might be wondering what NIAW stands for. Well let me take this little corner of cyberspace to enlighten those that don't typically follow any other IF blogs. NIAW stands for "National Infertility Awareness Week." And yesterday marked the begining of this important week for anybody whose life has been affected with infertility. And although this blog may be a mish mosh of stuff that chronicles my daily life and thoughts ... it is still primarily a blog about infertility. And as I've said in previous posts, it's a blog about loss. Why loss, you might ask? Especially since infertility is a "medical" condition. Like diabetes. Or heart disease. Or cancer. Well just like any of these conditions, infertility affects every aspect of a person's life. Just like heart disease requires a lifestyle change, so does infertility. Infertility also requires constant blood tests and monitoring to keep things under "control" ... just like diabetes does. And cancer? How can anyone who has been affected by cancer, either personally or through a loved one, not be affected by a diagnosis of cancer? Going along with the cancer scenario ... imagine, if you will, a person -- perhaps a loved one, a dear friend, or even a co-worker you might know -- who you're aware is struggling with cancer. Do you mourn alongside with them the loss of life? Or the loss of possibilities within their life? Well, this is the same loss that occurs with infertility. Otherwise there wouldn't be a need for the one in eight couples who experience infertility to go through such emotions. Nor would there be any need for me to keep such a blog. About *my* loss. Then I wouldn't have to write about how challenging it is for a couple who is actively "trying" to conceive a child to manage working full time and still have to go through bi-weekly (sometimes weekly or even daily) doctor appointments for lab draws or ultrasounds. Talk about loss of time spent driving to and from appointments ... Not to mention loss of personal and vacation time at work. Or how about the loss of control over their body? How frustrating would it be for you to find out that after months of your spouse or either of your parents dealing with multiple rounds of chemotherapy for cancer only to see little or no progress ... While a good friend, who has the same type of cancer, is found to be in remission after only one round? Now imagine that similar scenario in context with infertility. Imagine spending months - nay, years - and thousands of dollars for treatment with sometimes little to no success in achieving a viable pregnancy. Imagine being disappointed month after month after month. That loss of ability to "control" how your body responds to treatment while another person's body does ... It is enough to drive you crazy with obsession. Enough to drive you to do whatever thing you must do in order to achieve the best possible results to achieve your dream. After all, those other "seven out of eight" couples have no "issues" in creating the miracle that is life. And it's my personal opinion that some people take that *miracle* for granted. That loss is also enough to force an otherwise laid back person into a Type A personality ... By trying to remember what things that *must* be done versus what things *must* be avoided in order to provide the "optimum" healthy conditions for a successful "pregnancy." Alongside these medical treatments, there is also all the "old wives' tales" and otherwise unsolicited advice from those that an infertile could possibily perceive as having the ability to "control" their bodies. And then there's the biggest loss of all ... (to be continued, tomorrow)

NIAW 2009, Pt II

Emily — Tue, 28 Apr 2009 01:09:44 +0000

(This is the second part of a six-day series to celebrate NIAW. I'd say it's because I "planned" it that way ... but the truth is, the series started out as one extremely looong post. To start at the beginning, click here) And then there's the biggest loss of all. Let me preface this by saying that not everyone experiencing infertility will end up in this category of loss. Because some will be successful with their pursuit in creating a child from within themselves. For some, it may be the creation of a biological child of their own. For others, it could be a successful pregnancy created from either donor egg, donor sperm, donor embryo, and even donor uterus. In any case, these are couples who have spent more than enough months in disappointment ... and not to mention more than enough money on various medications and/or procedures. In any case ... for those others, like myself, that were not successful in their pursuit, they must deal with the ultimate loss -- the inability to create a life out of one's own being. For some couples, it could be the loss of a pregnancy; a miscarriage after having been able to create a life but unable to carry their baby to term. For every couple unable to achieve and/or maintain a pregnancy, it's the loss of the ability to pass on a piece of yourself or your partner's self onto another living and breathing person. To see your facial features on a child you created. To see your partner's mannerisms in another living being. To know that you have continued on your lineage; contributed to the "Circle of Life." Those things ... and much much more are tremendously huge losses that will take more than the span of your own lifetime to mourn. Some women feel the loss of the ability to experience a life grow inside of herself; to carry a child in her womb until that baby is ready to enter the world. For other women, it's knowing that they will finally be able to nurture this child and bring him/her up in the manner that they've always dreamed about. And for others still (like myself), a combination of the two ... (More ramblings ... tomorrow.)

NIAW 2009, Pt III

Emily — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 01:25:55 +0000

(This is Part Three of a six-day series to celebrate NIAW. I’d say it’s because I “planned” it that way … but the truth is, the series started out as one extremely looong post. To start at the beginning, click here.) Again, not every couple who are unable to create and sustain a life will remain childless. There are those couples in this category that will end up opening their hearts to adoption. And to me, those infertile couples are simply incredible. They're brave enough to pursue the long and tedious adoption process. A process that includes all the legal matters and invasion into the couples' private lives as to whether their home and their lifestyle is "safe" enough to care for a child. A concept that, quite frankly, can be unnerving as this questions a couple (who has been struggling to have a family) whether or not they are capable of being a parent. Those pursuing adoption are also strong enough to face every emotion -- all the anxiety -- involved in the adoption process head on. Placement of a child (whether domestic or international) and the absolute fear of the unknown would be enough to throw any "normal" person into anxiety overdrive:

Will there be issues with the adoption country?

Will the birth parent(s) change his/her mind?

Will the child love me?

Will I be able to love the child as if he/she is my own?

Am I a good enough in the government's eyes to be considered capable of raising a child?

Will I be deemed unfit as a parent?

Will the child be taken away from me?

Imagine facing those thoughts every day. In my opinion, going through adoption adds a whole new layer of complexity to infertility. And I am in absolute awe in which these couples who choose this path show such grace and compassion ... I only wish I had even a portion of such brevity, strength, grace and compassion that these people do. (Yep. There will be more of this ... tomorrow.)

NIAW 2009, Pt IV

Emily — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 14:00:22 +0000

(This is the fourth installment of a six-day series to celebrate NIAW. I’d say it’s because I “planned” it that way … but the truth is, the series started out as one extremely looong post. To start at the beginning, click here.) Finally there's one last loss that those experiencing infertility may or may not have experienced in their unique journeys. It's a loss particularly felt by those infertile couples/individuals who have decided to forgo medical treatment all together. These couples could simply be "in limbo," deciding whether or not going through the grueling adoption process is their next step. Or they could have decided on the "child-free" path of life. And while on this discussion, I must state that there is a difference between being a "childless" couple and "child-free" couple. Being a couple that is "child-free" indicates a methodical decision to live a life without children. It's a choice that this couple made, for their own personal reasons, to remain a "family" of two. I'm sure that individually, each one has their reason, but the point is that there was choice in the matter. However, living a "childless" life is simply a path in life that was given to them. It's a path that was reluctantly forced upon them. "Childless" living may not have been the life these couples imagined when planning their future together, but it's unfortunately the twist of fate that has taken them on their childless journey. An ideal "childless" course ... well, it would end up with the ability for any infertile to miraculously become pregnant ... but that's not what I'm getting at. (Besides, at this point in my life, it very well may be an "immaculate conception.") In an ideal "childless" course, I would hope that a person would be able to progress from perceiving their life as "childless" to being able to live"child-free." Because then this person (or a couple) would consciously and deliberately be making that choice to live "child-free." But wow ... how I've digressed. So going back to the losses experienced with "childless" living ... this last loss is one that not many like to discuss. But because this is my blog and it's a loss that I've experienced, I will forge through this and write about it. And what I say isn't meant to be received by the readers as a method to elicit sympathy or empathy. It isn't meant to sound bitter or angry. It's simply a fact. And the fact is this: Couples experiencing infertility, particularly women, feel a loss of connection amongst other couples or women that have achieved pregnancy and ultimately a family. While I admit, part of that loss can be attributed to that bit of envy an infertile is *entitled* to feel. However, the loss of connection has more to do with the inability to be part of a lifestyle that is "natural" in every day society. Let me explain this a little more. (Tomorrow, of course ... )

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Emily — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 20:17:06 +0000

NIAW 2009, Pt V

Emily — Fri, 01 May 2009 01:40:41 +0000

(Hellooo ... Part Five of a six-day series to celebrate NIAW. I’d say it’s because I “planned” it that way … but the truth is, the series started out as one extremely looong post. To start at the beginning, click here.) First, let me pose this question. Do you remember that childhood rhyme that starts off with a boy and a girl "sitting in a tree / K-I-S-S-I-N-G"? Well, if you do, you'll remember that it continues on to falling in love with the next step being marriage. It finally concludes with this particular "couple's" child in a baby carriage. The reason I bring this up is because this "path" in life is something that is taught to us at a very early age. A path that "society" expects every person to follow. It's also this type of rhyme that often has little girls already imagining falling in love and planning their "dream" wedding. And that the next "obvious" milestone in life is all about having a baby. However, the reality is this: As much as the majority of American society look down upon it ... or simply "ignore" it ... love (as in "couple" love) is not always about a boy and a girl. Furthermore the US Vital statistics state that 51 out of 1000 live births in 2006 were to unmarried women between the ages of 15 to 44.* So much for marriage before the baby carriage. The truth is that every person's life takes a different path. And sometimes a person's life doesn't follow what society considers as "normal." But because such thinking is ingrained into the general population at a very early age, anything that doesn't follow the customary flow is considered unorthodox. The unfamiliarity of any person deviating from this path brings about awkwardness amongst the rest of his/her surrounding company. And how does all this pertain to infertility and loss of contact amongst the rest of society? Well, when the general public considers the concept of a "nuclear family" (a couple comprised of partners of the opposite sex and their children all living in the same household) the "norm" ... it makes it quite difficult for the infertile couple to "fit in." Adding on to that last statement, modern society today has obviously placed an emphasis on family and children. When everything from advertising and marketing to politics involve the importance of that "nuclear family", how can you not find yourself involved in a conversation surrounding children? Eventually when others find out that your married with no children, the first reaction is typically "Why?" Which is then followed closely by "Isn't your biological clock ticking?" To me, this reaction is society's way of trying to "include" you in a conversation about children and how important it is to have them. For those experiencing infertility ... it's akin to "preaching to the choir" ... believe me, we know how important children are. We wouldn't be going through all the work-up, testing and heartbreak if we didn't comprehend the importance of having children. And for those of you brave enough to share with society your experiences with infertility, I'll bet that the most common reaction of those "fertile" people is to redirect the conversation ... quite frankly out of pure awkwardness of not knowing how to respond. In turn this action, whether intended or not, effectively separates you from that particular social connection. Because (and be truthful, my fertile friends ...), how many other conversations can one have with you that doesn't somehow develop into something related to their child? Especially since their lives (rightfully) revolve around their children and their needs. This loss of connection amongst other couples, whether intentional or not, is lonely. It's difficult to go through all the emotions of infertility by itself; however, adding the element of isolation creates gargantuan roadblocks when seeking even a little bit of support. Let me use this as an example. For my "fertile friends" out there ... when you started "planning" your family, was this topic something that you discussed with anyone and everyone? Chances are, you've answered this with a "No." That's because "polite society" dictates that these topics are best discussed at home. Behind closed doors. I mean, really ... as crude as today's society can be ... family planning is still considered a private affair. Now put that in context with a couple experiencing infertility. And add to that the pressure that society places on every human being to procreate. How would you try to find support for an issue that is considered by society as both private and paramount? Because of the privacy of such a topic, the average person is simply not equipped to discuss such "sensitive" issues such as infertility. Nor would they be able to understand some of the reasons behind their infertile friends' behaviors (avoiding baby showers, for instance ... or the lack of excitement about any pregnancy news). And because of that, the average person wouldn't feel comfortable in providing any support to a friend traveling through infertility. This is when learning about what kind of support you can provide to a friend becomes important. This is when it's essential to bust the many myths you might have about infertility; to know what might help your infertile friend feel less uncomfortable about discussing such a sensitive topic. This is when understanding infertility and its effects on a person's daily life is crucial. Because ultimately ... and I'm not just referring to infertility here ... it's often the misunderstanding of such matters that drives the wedge between what society deems as "normal" and "abnormal." (It concludes. Tomorrow.)

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* Heh. Apparently, the latest statistics for 2007 are even more staggering!

NIAW 2009, Pt VI

Emily — Fri, 01 May 2009 04:28:06 +0000

(The conclusion of the six-day series celebrating NIAW. I’d say it’s because I “planned” it that way … but the truth is, the series started out as one extremely looong post. To start at the beginning, click here.)

Again, I just want to reiterate the importance of understanding infertility and how it effects a person's entire lifestyle. Because to me ... misunderstanding leads to fear. Which leads to anger. Which leads to hate. Which eventually leads to suffering.

Yes, I am aware that I am quoting Yo.da. And while I'm at it, I am aware of how my fear of the unknown (during my travels through the land of infertility) has led me down such a huge spiral of negative emotions. But that just proves that Yo.da (nee Ge.orge Lu.cas ) was right. So there you have it. Infertility and Loss, as explained by me. And just so you know, I realize that a loss is a loss is a loss. Whether it's a loss associated with infertility or with the death of a loved one or with having to deal with any given life-altering event. To me, it has never mattered how big or small the loss is. And there is simply no use in "comparing" one particular loss to another. Because the pain, heartache and devastation that follows any loss is, quite frankly, universal. It's all in how you deal with the loss that is important. My way of dealing with my loss is by writing about my experiences, about my emotions. It's my way of expression in a culture and society that otherwise may not know how to respond to such a loss. It's my way of "bonding" with other infertility bloggers out there that can understand where such emotions come from. It's also my way of educating family and friends about infertility and its affect on every day life. So ... by writing this series of posts, I hope that you've come to a better understanding of infertility. And that you've been able to take something away from this. I also hope that it has encouraged you to be better prepared in supporting the "one in eight couples" you know that are likely silently suffering through infertility. Finally, I hope these posts emphasized how very important the "Miracle of Life" is and not to take any part of it for granted. I have learned, first hand, exactly how miraculous "conception" can be.* Oh ... and how VERY expensive infertility treatments can get ... as most of them are still not covered by health insurance.

So, as you've (hopefully) already read through my five previous posts written in celebration of "National Infertility Awareness Week" ... I do ask one more favor of you. Click over to this page. And learn even more about what you can do to support your infertile friends.

Learn more. Support more. Be AWARE.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teZivxCe4kU]

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~ * And if you care to know, it is absolutely true that all the stars in the world must align properly for any conception to occur ... the timing of fertilization needs to be that precise in order for conception to occur.)

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Emily — Wed, 06 May 2009 04:25:29 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 06 May 2009 05:03:10 +0000

Goin' With The Flo

Emily — Wed, 06 May 2009 05:04:26 +0000

[caption id="attachment_1718" align="alignright" width="178" caption="The Pioneer of Modern Nursing"][/caption] I made the mistake of heading into the Hallmark store in my office complex yesterday. What part of me thought that taking that little detour on my lunch break during this time of year was a good idea? Yeah, silly me. Lucky for me, every year Mother's Day happens to be only a "day" in the midst of another important week of the year. Well, at least for those that happen to be "tight" with Florence Nightingale, anyway. Yes, every year Nurse's Week is celebrated in the US from May 6th to May 12th. Why those days specifically? Well, it's because May 12th is the actual birthday of the "Pioneer of Modern Nursing." And May 12th is officially known as International Nurses Day. So yeah, having a whole week "dedicated" to my profession ... it certainly takes the focus of the one day of the year that practically the whole nation celebrates the one thing in the world that has eluded me the most. The one day that celebrates the biggest disappointment I've encountered thus far in my life. But going back to the whole Nurse's Week thingy ... I have to say that I find it pretty humerous that I ended up in the profession I did ... and "liking" it. [caption id="attachment_1716" align="alignleft" width="216" caption="Click on image to read the pledge and Detroit's history in it ..."][/caption] First of all, there are waaaay too many Filipinos in this profession. And in my youth, I was constantly trying to break out of the stereotypes that follow my culture. But ultimately it was the whole "respect your elders" part of my culture that had me ending up pursing a career in nursing. In other words, rather than spend my undergrad years "pondering" what I wanted to do in life while my parents (most graciously) funded my university education ... the suggestion was made by many-a-relative that nursing would provide me a lucrative* career while I figured out what I really wanted to do with my life. Lucky (or unlucky, depending how it's looked at) for me, while I still don't know what I want to do with the rest of my life (as motherhood obviously hasn't worked out) ... at least there are enough "avenues" in the profession of Nursing that I've been able to dabble in other areas other than bedside nursing. I do have to add this though ... no matter where I've worked (in an office setting or at the bedside), I am constantly being asked when I'll be bringing in pancit or lumpia to any potluck. Totally sucks for my co-workers who have the perception that all Filipinos are able to cook. Hah! And speaking of different "avenues" of Nursing ... I have to point out that this is probably the reason I do "like" the profession I'm in. Because believe me, in this modern day and age of health care ... burnout in the "bedside" aspect of Nursing is pretty darn high. That's because despite the advances in medical care, people that are admitted to the hospital are much much more "sicker" than they were in the past. And despite the higher acuity in patient care needs, the nurse-to-patient ratio has not improved in years. In fact, in many parts of the nation, the number of patients assigned to one nurse has exponentially increased; leaving Nurses at the bedside with more to do with less resources. [caption id="attachment_1717" align="alignright" width="230" caption="My Nursing School's reknown "Nightingale Award" (click on image)"][/caption] This is why I am glad I'm no longer doing "direct patient care." This simply means that I'm not physically reaching out and touching a person. (Not to say that I'm not "caring" for them, though.) Rather the aspect of Nursing I'm part of is Case Management. So what's the role of an RN Case Manager? Well, in a basic explanation, a Case Manager assists in coordinating the care of a clinically complex person in order to maximize this person's ability to care for themselves. Confusing, right? Well, let's just say that instead of physically caring for a patient while he/she -- I don't know -- is "tossing their cookies" ... I'm the Nurse that, once the acute illness "settles down," is helping to make sure that these patients follow up appropriately with their physicians or other health care professionals in order to prevent a recurrence or complication of their condition. And I'm the same Nurse that spends MORE time educating a patient and/or family member about their disease or condition so they can understand their physician's plan of care and the various options they may have available to them. [caption id="attachment_1715" align="alignleft" width="173" caption=""The Lady With The Lamp""][/caption] Yeah, I bet you didn't know that there were many aspects of Nursing as a profession. Just like I'm sure that you may forget about other jobs that Nurses do that don't necessarily involve working in a hospital, nursing home or Doctor's office. Yes. Nursing is everywhere. Like in the home setting. Or in the community. Or even at your own workplace. Heck, you might even work directly with a Nurse. Or even an "ex-Nurse."** Because believe me, we're everywhere. So with that said ... I must remind everyone out there to wish all the Nurses you know a "Happy Nurses Week" over the next seven days. Because despite what it feels like to most Infertiles out there ... this week isn't all about being a Mom. Sometimes it's all about going with the "Flo" ... Florence Nightingale, that is. Yeah. I'm that cheesy. On an even sillier note ... I must share this picture with you to show how "smart" my kitty cat can be. Notice how she's perched on a pillow? Well ... as she knows she's not allowed on our new sofa, she's found a way to get around it ... by being on top of a pillow instead of directly on the sofa. How cute can she be?!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* "Lucrative" as in "there are always going to jobs available in nursing" ... not "lucrative" as in financially "stable."

** Although I always say, "Once a Nurse, always a Nurse."

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Emily — Mon, 11 May 2009 02:37:40 +0000

Oh Happy Day ...

Emily — Mon, 11 May 2009 02:47:03 +0000

Ha. Yes, I realize it's the end of that fine May Day where every person living celebrates the woman who gave birth to them. And believe me ... I am most grateful for all that Hubby's Mom and my Mom have done for us for our entire lifetime. We are truly lucky to have been given these beautiful women as our mothers. And then there's the other aspect of today. The day that emphasizes how much I am not part of that group of women who (rightly) receive such lavish attention today. The aspect that makes me feel like a wallflower at a high school dance ... er, maybe more like some "Spring Mother/Daughter Event." Basically, the one that feels a bit left out. Truth be told, I *am* getting a little bit used to it ... the feeling that I'm different from the rest of the world. Or maybe it's because this year ... well, it wasn't exactly spent planning on how we would celebrate with our Mom's. (Because, truthfully ... that "chore" ironically ends up with the infertile couple every year. Pshaw!) And that's because this year Hubby & I stayed in Chicago for the weekend. [caption id="attachment_1722" align="alignright" width="267" caption="Found this on a tshirt at Shedd Aquarium and just HAD to snap a photo. I thought it was SO hilarious!*"][/caption] Okay, so we actually did plan on going home to Detroit this past weekend. But well, work has been kickin' a$$ (and taking names, too!) lately. And some of my "duties" just happen to overflow into Saturday. So yeah, there was no way I was going to have us drive back for one day and one day only. Now next week ... different story. Double duty. But that's okay. Because the rest of the world won't be celebrating it with us! So instead ... today I labored and gave "birth" to something else. Yep ... another blog. Which truly has absolutely nothing to do with infertility, daily work or life woes, or even just plain old thoughts or observations. Nope. This new blog has everything to do with Superheros. And comics. "Wha?!," I can hear you saying. Yes; you read it right. Superheroes and comics. Oh, and I should add that it's a "collective" blog ... with me (that's right, *ME*) as the administrator and commissioner. But rather than writing about it here ... go over and check out the "About" section. Hey ... if I had to spend Mother's Day without either of our Moms and without children of my own ... better to do something that will keep me from "thinking" too much. And we all know what happens when those awful thoughts start creeping up from the back of my mind ... Anyhoo ... for all of my female friends (in real life or in bloggie world) that are blessed with children ... Happy Mother's Day to y'all!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* The other reason I love this picture so much is because May in Detroit typically means "Open Octopus" season during Red Wings Playoff!

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Emily — Thu, 14 May 2009 23:33:59 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 15 May 2009 00:20:26 +0000

Fake Plastic Trees

Emily — Fri, 15 May 2009 00:57:13 +0000

So I've been in the workforce for ... well, what seems like forever. Seriously. I started babysitting at the age of 12 years old and spent many a summers watching over the younger neighborhood kids. Or the kids of my parents' friends And then at the age of 16, I got my first "official" job as a burger-slinger at the local fast food establishment. (Think of the recent "King-On" commercials on TV. Yeah, it was that restauraunt ...) I had a manager who was the spittin' image of Tim Curry and thought that all Asian girls looked like Conn.ie Chung. He also had a habit of sticking any non-Caucasian employee in the back either making the sandwiches or washing dishes. Amongst other nasty comments he made, the naive person in me took a few years to I recognize what a bigot this man was. So yeah, I lasted about 3 months on that job. [caption id="attachment_1732" align="alignright" width="278" caption="Hubby & I try to take "Foot Fotos" every time we go on vacation. This was taken at Cannon Beach, OR"][/caption] The next summer I managed to land a job at the local mall working at a music store. No, it wasn't an independent record store ... although I always wished I could have worked at one. Yes, it was one of those retail chain stores that sold mostly Top 40 crap. But the job had its perks, which included a decent discount, first dibs on any "alternative" stuff that managed to come into the store, and a crap load of freebies that the label reps would hand out any time they came into the store. Oh ... and we also got a lot of "heads up" on tour dates and album releases before the general public new. Of course pre-internet ... that was a pretty d*mn cool perk. It was definitely a fun job to have, and the people that I worked with and interacted with on a daily basis definitely made the mundane more interesting. I managed to keep the music store job for the next three years; lasting through the summer after my first year in college. And, if you can believe it ... I also managed to hold a second job at one of the department stores within the same mall. That one wasn't as fun, as I managed to get stuck in the men's clothing department. However, to this day I know exactly how to fold a man's dress shirt back into the original packaging it may have come in. Ain't it amazing how we retain the stupidest things? [caption id="attachment_1731" align="alignleft" width="266" caption="Dundas Square, Toronto"][/caption] I finally quit both retail jobs after my first year in Nursing school. And that's because I managed to get my first job in a hospital as a Nursing Assistant. Which turned in to a Nurse Technician position another year later. Which eventually turned into my first post-college job. Of course, I moved over to the bigger "sister" hospital at that time. Which meant more interesting patients and definitely more Residents ("Doctors-In-Training" ... not to be confused with Med School students). Those first couple years post-graduation in my first job had to be one of the most exciting times of my career. Lots of new things to learn, lots of interesting co-worker dynamics, etc. After about two years, the "glamour" and excitement of working on "the floors" started to wear down on me. Things suddenly became routine. And since by then I was married, working the afternoon shift and every other weekend grated on me because, as a newlywed, I just wanted to spend time with my Hubby. It's about that time when I started to feel the "burn out" of working on the floors. And looking back now, I have a feeling that the reason I was burning out was more because of the way our unit was being managed* and not by the people I worked with or the actual work I was responsible. In any case, my "break" literally came when I injured my back on the job. How, may you ask, did that happen? Well, it's not that a patient fell on me ... rather it was me that fell on a patient. Yep. As a fellow RN and I were lifting a patient who slipped off of her chair onto the floor, this patient began to lose her balance. Now ... in Nursing School, you're taught to "ease" a patient that is falling down onto the floor. In otherwords, you don't let go of the patient; you guide them slowly onto a chair or back down on the floor. Well ... while I attempted to "ease" this patient onto the floor, my fellow RN decided to just let the patient go. [caption id="attachment_1734" align="alignright" width="254" caption="At the Bow of a Caribbean Cruise Ship"][/caption] And down the patient went. With me right on top of her shortly afterwards. And ... ouch, what was that sharp pain I felt in my lower back? I happened to be off that weekend and when I couldn't sleep comfortably for the next two days, I decided it was time to fill out paperwork. So after a couple of Employee Health appointments and an MRI to my lower back, I found out I had a herniated disk. And despite the months of physical therapy and cortisone shots (which, by the way, I think may have been one of the reasons for my IF issues ... ), the pain to my back and it's associated numbness and tingling down my left leg persisted. So that's when I decided to have surgery to correct the herniated disk. (What can I say? I was only 25 at the time and I didn't want to be in pain for the rest of my life!) And that's when I met my disability RN Case Manager for the first time. She's the one who showed me that there were other areas of Nursing that I could get in to with my degree. So armed with that information, when I returned to work I was lucky enough to have a fellow RN who was doing Case Management for the hospital I worked for. She's the one that got me my first position in Case Management and I haven't turned back to floor nursing since. [caption id="attachment_1730" align="alignleft" width="256" caption="On the beach at Labadee, Haiti"][/caption] So I guess you can say that I literally "fell" into Case Management. Ha! Okay, so that long diatribe wasn't what I was getting at when I first started this post. What I'm really getting at is that since I was a young'in I worked. And once I graduated from college and joined the career workforce, I've worked. Full time, mind you. The only time I ever took a break between jobs (besides when I went for my back surgery) was when I left the hospital to work for a health insurance company. And even then, it was less than a week. And when I left that job to come here to Chicago, I took absolutely no time off in between. Oh sure, I've had time off during the year. I mean, we Full-Time folk do accrue vacation time that we are entitled to. And trust me, Hubby & I make it a point to take a vacation because that's a priority for us in life. I mean really, it's our time to recharge our batteries and refuel our energy so that we can delve headfirst into our careers with new purpose. We need that time because, unlike others that have different priorities than us, our childless (or child-free, still deciding) life consists of little more than our careers. [caption id="attachment_1729" align="alignright" width="280" caption="At Lake Louise, Banff, Alberta (Canadian Rockies)"][/caption] Okay, so I'm overexagerating here (or as Hubby says I'm "V.H.1 Storytelling"). I mean, I wouldn't be writing / blogging and Hubby wouldn't be sketching if I didn't do anything more than wake up and go to work every day. But I think you readers may get the point. It's been just over five months since I moved to Chicago and started this new job, without taking more than 2 days off (strictly for the NYE holiday) inbetween. And before that, it's been since July last year that Hubby & I have taken any sort of vacation together. Needless to say, I'm ripe for some time off. H*ll. I don't even care if it's a Stay-cation. I don't care if I don't do more than read, write or blog for a week. I just want to have the time dedicated to ourselves. To be together. To fully relish in the big move that the two of us made together. To explore our new local surroundings. (Hmm ... I guess you could call that a "Play-cation" then. Not to be confused with "placate" though ... ) All without the pressure to keep working. To make deadlines. To set new goals. To maintain the current goals. Seriously, I'd be happy to just be in bed with Hubby, imagining we're back in Hawaii lying in a hammock on the beach at sunset. Perhaps we can bring in some fake plastic trees, too. [caption id="attachment_1733" align="alignleft" width="238" caption="Cannon Beach, OR again ... Recognize the rock from "Goonies"?"][/caption] As it is, the next long weekend we have planned will be Memorial Day. (But then, is it a vacation if the rest of your company is off too?!) And the next one would be Independence Day ... which is followed closely by my birthday that following Monday. And d*mn it ... you know I'll be taking that day off. I mean, I'll at least have accrued one or two vacation days by then ... I mean if I can't take time off to find a new career path or even take time off to take my imaginary kids to a fun vacation spot during their imaginary summer vacation ... let alone to take a maternity leave for that imaginary pregnancy, too ... I should be entitiled to have my own birthday off. Don't you think?

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* I know that now, only because being in a leadership position ... I know that a person never leaves a job because of the people or because of the actual work. Nope. In my experience, most people that go willingly on to "greener pastures" (or maybe not so "greener" ...) leave because of who they report to.

Whaddya Know ...

Emily — Sun, 17 May 2009 02:12:48 +0000

Hubby and I were listening to NPR this afternoon when we heard this older couple telling the story about how their piano duet ended up on You.Tube ... They were such an adorable and loving couple that I had to look up the video the minute we got home. All I have to say is that I hope that Hubby & I are just as active and as happy and as youthful as these two are when we grow up ...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RI-l0tK8Ok0]

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Emily — Fri, 22 May 2009 03:15:47 +0000

Letting Go ...

Emily — Fri, 22 May 2009 03:21:49 +0000

This past Sunday morning at our Michigan home was a rough one. I should preface this by saying that the raggedness of that morning had absolutely nothing to do with the baptism we attended later on that day. Because I was actually looking forward to spending time with these good friends; a couple that experienced the roller coaster of infertility first hand. I was looking forward to meeting their daughter for the first time. Nor did it have to do with spending time with those other family friends' kids who are waaay too adorable. Because, believe me ... seeing how these kids grew so much over the past six months was just plain fun. (Personally, the story about our friend's two year old son placing a Vic.toria's Secret bag on his head and walking around calling himself Opti.mus Pri.me was my absolute favorite!) Nope, what made the morning rough was what I stumbled upon while cleaning off the top of our dresser. And the thing is ... I should have known better because it was in the same exact place I left it when I last stumbled upon this item. Hubby happened to be there this time when I found the picture of our two would-be babies. And he noticed the subtle flinch I made as I picked it up and set it aside ... this time to pack it away so that it would be "filed" somewhere safe, so as not to be lost while in the midst of our "final" move to Chicago. And when Hubby asked me if I was okay, I told him the truth. I was okay for the moment, but I was sure that it would affect me at a later date. It could be tonite ... or it could be next week. As it turned out, I would have to face my feelings about my failed IVF at that very moment. Because that was the moment that Hubby stood next to me, picked up the snapshot and said, "I'm going to throw it away." "No," I immediately responded. "Don't." And when Hubby asked me why, I responded "Because that's the only picture I have of them." Them, meaning my babies. My one instance at biological motherhood I would ever experience. The one time I could ever say that I had babies inside of me. So what if my babies didn't "stick"? So what if I never got my second pink line? Or an HCG level that would ever equate to a positive pregnancy test? That picture was everything that could have been. That picture harvested all those unfulfilled possibilities. And even though that one and only IVF cycle failed ... that picture showed that Hubby & I were able to create something (or rather three* "somethings"... even though we didn't have a snapshot of our third) from the two of us. It was a testament what lengths Hubby & I traveled in order to have children created from our own flesh and blood. "It doesn't matter," Hubby said in response. "We'll always know what they mean to us." And because I had no smart reply to that, Hubby continued. "It's time to move on," he told me. "We need to keep moving forward." "D*mn it," I remember thinking to myself. "He's right." But rather than acknowledge it (after all, I am stubborn), I continued cleaning off the dresser. That is, until Hubby snuck up behind me and put his arms around my waist. "It's time," he repeated. "I know," I finally said to him as he picked up the picture from where I last placed it on the dresser. [caption id="attachment_1744" align="alignright" width="286" caption="Our Two Little "Somethings" ..."][/caption] "So I can throw it away?," Hubby asked. "Yes," I said. "But do it quickly before I change my mind." And then as he took the picture and walked towards the trash can, I turned the other way. "I can't watch," I told Hubby. I listened to Hubby slowly walk away from me and pause by the bedroom door. Where the trash can was. And after a quick rustle of paper, the picture was gone.

*****

I blocked that moment out of my mind for the rest of the day; busy with two parties, the one baptism I mentioned above and the other a birthday party for my aunt. Both at buffet restaurants, may I add. (Still. So. Stuffed.) Then it was the long drive back to Chicago so I could work in the morning. It wasn't until Hubby & I dropped my cousin off (who bummed a ride with us to attend our Aunt's party) that Hubby and I talked about our "babies" again. And how hard it still was for me to let them "go." That's when Hubby turned to me and told me that it was hard for him too. Hard for him to throw away the picture. Harder for him to let go than he thought. And as sad as that moment was for me, there was that little sliver of hope ... that small glimmer of light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. Because even though our car was packed with stuff we were moving from our old house to our new "home" in Chicago ... the weight in my heart felt just a smidge lighter. I guess this means I'm actually letting go.

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* Our third "something" was a lone blastocyte that was frozen. Hubby and I had hoped that more blastocytes would have survived the initial IVF procedure so that we would have the ability to try a "frozen cycle."

Keepsakes and Legacies

Emily — Mon, 25 May 2009 00:43:14 +0000

Years ago, I had a conversation with a co-worker about keepsakes. And when I mean keepsakes, I mean personal items that an individual wishes to pass on to a family member or friend that would appreciate the sentiment behind such a gift. It could be anything from a simple chotski to artwork, or even large pieces of furniture. This co-worker told me the story about a bedroom set that belonged to her grandmother, which was also passed down from her grandmother from the mid 1800's. It was a beautiful set, she told me. Very simple, yet classic. It was also something that her grandmother passed down to her, as her grandmother knew that she loved the set. So then this co-worker asked if I ever had anything "passed down" to me from the previous generations. I admit, I had to think about it for a second. The nurse in me thought ... "Duh, yeah. My big butt for instance. And my nose. And the shape of my head." But then I realized, those were physical genetic traits that were passed down to me from my parents and their parents, etc. The short answer to the question my co-worker asked me was no. Yes, there have been clothes passed on or an occasional headboard or shelf or table. But those were more for utilitarian purposes. Actual "keepsakes" or "antiques" (if that's what you wish to call it ... )? No. Not really. Not having any real "keepsakes" from other family members isn't because I come from a family that doesn't "believe" in passing things down to the next generation. For me, I believe it's more or less because I am a first generation Asian/Filipino-American. Both my Mom and my Dad were born and raised in the Philippines; coming to this side of the hemisphere (separately, and not knowing each other at the time) once they were done with their studies. As they were both young, neither of them traveled with more than what they needed to live in what would be their new "home." With that said, when they eventually met and married ... there was little for them to combine once they moved to Detroit and settled into daily living. In fact, much of what they bought for their new home, again was utilitarian more than something of significant value or sentiment. And perhaps because it's something that women often think about, my Mom and I have had random conversations in the past about what she wants to pass on to her children. While, she has already passed on her love of books and art (along with her knowledge in science) to both my brother and me, there is one thing she's told me is that she's always wanted to pass on to us. And that would be those special stones or rings or necklaces/earrings that my Dad has given to her over the years; those sentimental "jewelry" pieces that she still keeps. Because, as she herself said, there isn't much other than her jewelry that she feels she can "leave behind" for her children. Or her grandchildren.

*****

While cleaning out his side of our dresser last week, Hubby stumbled on a jewelry box. And inside this jewelry box were two rings made of Chinese gold. Other than size, these rings were identical and, if pressed into hot wax, would produce a heart-shaped "embroidered" Chinese floral pattern. Hubby holds these rings dear to him ... not because they're made of Chinese gold and represent his half-Filipino/half-Chinese heritage. And not because they were simply a gift from his parents. Rather these rings were something that Hubby wore when he was just a child. The first ring was given to him when he was just a baby; most likely to celebrate his birth. And the second ring ... that one was given to him before his parents (who met and married in the Philippines) left to prepare a home for him and his sister in the U.S. Both rings remind him of his youth; of his time back in the Philippines. And anyone that knows Hubby, he has always had a hard time with memories. So for him to reflect back at what little he remembers from his early years in the Philippines ... well, that's just something to treasure. When Hubby found the jewelry box that held these rings this past Sunday, I couldn't help but feel sad. After all these were rings that I know Hubby hoped to pass down to his own children. Those same children that would be his legacy. The children that would pass on all of his heritages; his Chinese, Filipino and American backgrounds. The children that would make up half of his genetic traits (perhaps a future comic book artist?). Those same children who would pass on his name. As I looked up at Hubby, I knew he was thinking the same thing. And all I could say to him was "Sorry." Yet, (and I must add, I know this is illogical ... ) somehow that just never seem to be enough. Because honestly ... not only do I feel as if I've deprived him of the ability to be a wonderful father, I feel as if I've "robbed" him of the ability to pass on his traits, his skills ... his legacy.

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Emily — Mon, 25 May 2009 02:35:24 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 29 May 2009 02:18:18 +0000

Forty-plus Days

Emily — Fri, 29 May 2009 02:25:44 +0000

In the Catholic-Filipino tradition, a 9-day novena is held immediately after the death of a loved one. On the 40th day, a mass is held in commemoration of this loved one as it is believed that this is the day they've ascended into the heavens. It's also the day where the act of "mourning" (wearing black, for example) officially concludes. It's supposed to be the time where a person is supposed to outwardly "show" that they've began to "move on" with everyday life. [caption id="attachment_1774" align="alignright" width="289" caption="Yet another "borrowed" picture from another cousin"][/caption] Except ... anyone that has ever mourned the loss a love one (or heck, even the loss of anything in life -- like the ability to have children, for instance) knows that grief doesn't last for a set moment in time. Life doesn't just miraculously get better after 40 days, several months or even years. If anything, grief is a process that must be worked through completely before a person can successfully move on. Sometime last week was the 40th day anniversary of my Grandma Rose's passing. In all honestly, the date escaped me. It wasn't until I saw pictures of a celebration at my Uncle's house on my cousin's Facebook page that I remembered. And if the rest of my Mom's family in the U.S. didn't live on the East Coast, I might have been there celebrating with them. Instead, I celebrated with them in spirit; once again reflecting back on the incredible life my 99-year old Grandmother. This past Monday, on Memorial Day of all days, I happened to get the first part of an incredible gift in my email inbox. This same cousin, who posted pictures of the 40th day celebration, sent me ... along with the rest of my cousins and Aunts/Uncles in her email address book ... a scanned copy of a notebook written by Grandma Rose. About 32 pages in length and written about twenty years ago, this handwritten notebook told the most basic lifestory of my grandmother in her own words. She had left it to my cousin, who took it upon herself to scan in each page and send it to all of us. It was absolutely wonderful to read these pages and physically see it my Grandma's own handwriting. Many of the accounts she documented were stories that I can remember her telling me. Other stories were ones that were passed down to me from my own Mom. But reading them now ... well, they brought back such warm memories of listening to my Grandma Rose tell these stories and being fascinated on how life in the Philippines was so different than my own. For years, we had told Grandma that she should write all these stories down ... that she had lived such an interesting life. While many of these stories never made it into writing, I still feel incredibly blessed that Grandma left her own legacy behind and in her own words.

Last night, after I finished reading these pages I, once again, felt this incredible closeness with my Grandma Rose. It felt as if she was right there next to me, telling me these stories like she did when I was little. It felt as if I could put my arms around her and hug her, while she read aloud to me what she wrote. And just like that, the tears sprung up again. Because then I realized how much I missed her and still miss her. Even after these 40-plus days.

***

And because the number 40 always reminds me of this song ... I have to pay homage to one of my favorite bands of all time. I have this vivid memory of being home sick one day in high school and watching "Live at Red Rocks: Under a Blood Red Sky" ... so it's this clip I had to post.

For those that don't know, this song is based on the Bible's Psalm 40. Which ... given how spiritual my Grandma Rose was ... is incredibly appropriate. Enjoy.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AjtpplE39_g]

Time Warp

Emily — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 04:36:49 +0000

There's a radio show on the Detroit airwaves that I love listening to on any given Sunday morning. It's a show on a station that, back in the late 80's/early 90's, was the first major station to play alternative music. (And when I talk about alternative music ... I'm not referring to the mainstream alterna-sh*t that gets played over and over again. I'm referring to music that was only played on college radio stations or late late night on local public radio.) Unfortunately, since a certain company took over management of commercial airwaves, we've been relegated to a snippet of time on Sunday Mornings where this particular station can play that kind of classic alternative music. This show, of all things, is called Time Warp. Sunday mornings have got to be one of my most favorite times during the week. It's the time where I can either sleep in or wake up early and relish the absolute peace and quiet of the day. It's the moment during the week where Hubby & I can go out for an early breakfast or a leisurely brunch. And well, having the ability to listen to "my kind" of alternative music during that moment in time? Well, it caps off what I could consider a perfect morning. Why am I bringing this all up late on a Thursday night? Well, it's because I'm resurrecting an old post from my other blog. And I'm doing that ... well, quite frankly because I haven't had time to sit down and write a proper post since last week. But I promise ... a new one sometime this weekend. Without further ado ... here is my "Time Warp":

***

As You Wish ...

Also known as the "Not-So-Funny Thought of the Day"

Okay, so on one of the blogs I read there was discussion of favorite movies to watch. One of them mentioned that "The Princess Bride" was one of their favorite movies.

I totally agree. That movie probably ranks as one of my top movies of all time. If it's ever on TV and I'm randomly flipping through channels, I would always settle on watching it again.

But then I thought (again, always a bad thing) of one of the most famous lines in that movie. Yes, you know ... the one that Vizzini always says when he is utterly shocked, suprised and dismayed ...

INCONCEIVABLE!

Wow. In the infertile world that I live in, that's a pretty appropriate saying ...

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Emily — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 04:37:30 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 04:42:41 +0000

The Zen of Yin and Yang

Emily — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 04:44:15 +0000

Anybody that has ever met me knows that I have two left feet. Okay ... so the Filipina in me can, at the very least, dance to a beat. But put me in a pair of heels (or heck, even flat shoes give me problems), and I can't even walk a straight line without tripping. I can even fall down while laying in bed. Seriously. Okay, so that part was really caused by Hubby turning over and taking all the blankets that I was lying on top of ... but nonetheless, it was ME that fell on the floor. The other day, as Hubby and I strolled the streets of the Magnificent Mile, I contemplated how throughout my life I've always been at one extreme or the other. I've thought about how I've either been extremely happy or in the throws of despair. Or I've either totally loved my job or completely hated it to the point of quitting. Or I've felt completely optimistic about IVF to being downright pessimistic about my infertility. And then I tripped. (D*mn Crocs on uneven pavement ...) After being caught by Hubby and subsequently asked how my "trip" was ... I thought about the irony of my last "fall." Tripping when contemplating how unbalanced my life is. So after I regained my footing, I began to contemplate whether my life has always been unbalanced. Much like I've always had two left feet. Had I always seen things so black and white? Did I always approach life in a yin and yang type of manner? Hubby seems to think I do not. That I tend to see things in this manner only when there is some sort of major disruption in my life. Whether it's IVF / Infertility or work-related issues ... or even any "fun" situations like moving to Chicago or traveling to different places ... it seems that I try to garner control of things by seeing them as "relative" yes or no situations. Right. Or wrong. And looking back at any "interesting" moments in life, I realize that Hubby is absolutely right. The times in my life where I've had no control over any situation are the times that I felt most "unbalanced. Unfortunately, it's also those type of situations that I always tend to focus on rather than the "uneventful" peaceful times in my life. Why think about those lazy Sunday afternoons where Hubby and I sit at the local cafe and read, drink coffee and otherwise relax? Not when I can spend the time obsessing over whether or not I'm doing a good enough job in my new boss's eyes. Why get excited over our recent move to the Windy City and all the new places we get to explore this summer when I can worry about whether I made the right decision to move? Why think about how d*mn unfair it is that other women can get pregnant at the drop of a hat when I can think about how much of an impact I may (or may not) have made on my nephew's life? So after that last literal trip, I decided that I should focus on the wonderful aspect of every day life. And that I shouldn't take for granted something as simple as Hubby catching my arm as I trip over my two left feet. Because it's those little things ... those every day wonderful thoughtful things that provide the balance that I need in those otherwise chaotic, uncontrollable moments in life.

Spirit, Strength and Peace

Emily — Thu, 11 Jun 2009 04:33:44 +0000

Dear God, I haven't asked much for myself over the past so many years. In fact ... if I had to pinpoint a moment in time that I stopped requesting anything from You, it would be the same day I was so angry at You for not giving me the one thing in life that I prayed the hardest for. The one thing in my life that I wanted to experience the most. I stopped asking at that point, not because I didn't believe in You. Or that I didn't think You loved me. I stopped asking because, quite honestly, I just wanted to stop feeling disappointed in myself all the time. You see, I have always been told that You only give a person what You think he or she could handle. And seeing that I hadn't been handling the whole infertility thing so well, I thought that perhaps that was the reason You felt I wasn't ready or prepared or worthy of being a mother. And that is why I stopped praying for myself. God, I know that you know that I still pray to You. And that my requests are simple at best. I pray that You look over all my family and friends. I pray that You guide those most worthy of needing guidance to find spiritual happiness somewhere. Because, even though I am not a very good practicing Catholic, I do believe that having faith in a higher being ... whether You are called "God" or "Yahweh" or if You are even a multitude of deities ... it is important in finding some sort of spiritual inner peace. Right now, God ... I'm looking for some of that inner peace. And specifically what I need at this moment is some strength. I know You have provided me with many gifts, including the love and support of an incredible man. I also know You have graciously provided me with my "second chance" in life in a new city and a new home. I cannot tell you how incredibly grateful I am for the love and support of my husband and this opportunity to move to Chicago ... because it's amazing what a change in scenery can do to one's soul. The strength I need right now is to maintain my self-confidence. To know that I'm doing the best that I can do in the situation I am currently in. To ignore the thoughts in my head that tell me I'm "just not good enough." To ignore my tendency to worry what others may think about what I'm doing. To be strong in the face of self-doubt. Please God. I don't ask for much. But if it wasn't too much of a bother, I'm in much need of some inner strength ...

Quickly ...

Emily — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 14:36:02 +0000

(Okay, so when do I ever do anything quickly.) Wednesday's post was vague at best ... and quite abrupt, given my new "zen" attitude I was supposed to take on. Let's just say this past Tuesday and Wednesday the sh*t hit the fan at work. And without going into major details, the situation has literally forced me to question whether I should run back to Detroit with my tail between my legs. And that's the fourth time I've had that thought now in the past 6 weeks. So that's why I asked God for inner strength. But thanks to your thoughts, your prayers, and your general support ... I think I survived the worse of it, which was having to walk back into work Thursday morning with my head held high. Because of that, I now know that I'm stronger than I give myself credit for. And I typically don't give up readily without fully knowing that I've done everything I can. And I need to remember that ... D*mnit, I survived years of infertility treatments and all the rollercoaster emotions that come with it. And, despite the fact that these treatments didn't work, I survived. So, whatever the outcome of these next few weeks, I will survive this as well. But not without doing my absolute best. Please ... keep those good vibes coming. I will need all the strength I can get.

Pot & Kettle? Both Black ...

Emily — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 03:32:20 +0000

... And typically both cast iron, too. Okay, I so hope that no one goes all Omarosa on me for bringing up that idiom. Which is funny, because I always found that saying rather silly. Well, until recently anyway. Last week, for lack of better words, was pure H*LL at work. It was one of those weeks where anything I tried to do seemed to backfire on me. And it all came to a head on Wednesday. Without going into too much detail, I was "disciplined" in a way that I thought was unfair and uncalled for. Given that I've been in the position I've been in for a little over 5 months, I suppose there would be grounds to be concerned from the "higher up" person's standpoint. But when I feel as if I haven't been given the support I've needed or the training that I should have been given? All because it was felt that I should have had enough "previous" experience, even though I completely new to the company? And I've voiced these concerns over and over again? Yeah ... not fair. So after this formal "discussion" last Wednesday, I went home and I crashed. And I struggled with separating my emotions from the situation. And when I finally did, I came to the conclusion that in many ways I am similar to this same person. Both of us are driven to do the best job that we can. And even though we may have different ideas on how to do it, both of us see the same broad picture of where we need to get our team. Which means both of us are stubborn. As in "cast-iron" stubborn. And this is where that d*mn idiom comes into play. I mean, I could seriously say some really horrible things on here (after all, this is my blog) ... but it would literally be like a slap to my own face. Because what drives me insane about what this particular person does is probably the same thing I do in return. Only, I go about it in an altogether different manner. And thanks to all your thoughts and prayers and good vibes, I survived last week. After a wonderfully fun weekend spent with our friend "J" and our nephew in town, I did manage to get a much needed break from all that stress. And now I'm slowly making it through this week as well. So thank you once again, bloggie world, for helping me get through a tough week. And reminding me that I am a strong person. And I can survive. Because, if anything, that stubborn hard head of mine can probably crush more than beer cans on my forehead.

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Emily — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 03:42:34 +0000

Emily Goes Stalkerazzi

Emily — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 03:59:51 +0000

Oh yes. The day has come. The day where Emily takes being a fan to another level. And becomes a fanatic. But d*mn, was it worth it! Let me paint the picture. As I'm busy at work earlier in the morning, preparing for a day chalk-ful of meetings and more meetings, I receive a phone call from Hubby. "I know where you need to be later tonite," Hubby tells me. And as I question him why, he tells me, "You need to be at the AMC River East tonite." "Because ... ??" "Because it's the premiere of 'Public Enemies' and Johnny Depp and Christian Bale are supposed to be there." "Really?!," I just about screamed, as my cubicle neighbor looked up from shuffling songs on his iPod. "Really," Hubby confirms. And so that's all I needed to hear. Hubby, the awesome husband that he is, met me after work and accompanied me to the downtown movie theatre off of Illinois Street in Chicago. And there, on the barricaded street, we waited along with the thousands of other fans. Patience finally paid off as we started to see unmarked black SUV's pull into the street. And a few moments later, we began to hear screams from the crowd. First Christian Bale came out to the crowd to sign some autographs. Then, after more screaming and a walk down the red carpet to the media tent ... my man, Johnny Depp hit the street. And walked down to greet his fans. Lucky me, happened to be towards the very end of the street where Johnny decided to begin his trip. And also lucky for me, I managed to be up against the barricade. Oh yes, girls. I got face-to-face, up close and personal to the one celebrity my awesome husband once gave me permission to leave him for. As Johnny was about three fans away from me, I tried to help this tween-age girl move up to see Johnny and get his autograph. But then the crowd around us pushed us up against the barricade. Johnny happened to notice that and paused in front of us long enough to make sure she was okay before signing her book. Then as he looked at me through those blue-tinted sunglasses, he reached out and squeezed my arm. Seriously, people. If Johnny asked me to run off with him to a faraway island at that very moment, I wouldn't have given a second thought. (Sorry, Hubby. But you did give me permission ... ) But of course, we all know Johnny wouldn't have done that. And in reality, I could never leave the incredible man that is my husband. Because even though he doesn't own a Caribbean island and make millions of dollars like Johnny does ... I am absolutely in love with my Hubby; the one man who allows me to go all Stalkerazzi and still loves me for who I am. And now, for your enjoyment (and mine) ...

[rockyou id=139324171&w=426&h=319]

Hips DO Lie

Emily — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 00:35:30 +0000

It's been hot lately in Chicago. I mean, I'm not complaining. Considering how just a few months ago I was complaining how frickin' cold it was outside. Now that Hubby's here with me permanently, I have to admit that I've been using him (and our car) as my primary means to get to work. Because sometimes getting to work in a sweltery mess (when I'm supposed to be lookin' all professional and sh*t) is not always a pleasant thing. Yeah ... like I've always said. I don't "glisten" like most women do. I down and out sweat. Like a hog. I'm spoiled, I know. In many counts. But in this scenario, the fact that I get air-conditioned door-to-door "valet" service in the morning is wonderful. That, and the absolutely spectacular view I get of Lake Michigan every morning is downright overindulgence. So yes, that's how I find myself getting to listen to morning talk radio on the 7 mile/20 minute ride into work every morning. And truth be told, I have missed that part of my daily commute with my previous employment. Morning talk radio is absolute smut. But seriously, that's how I tend to get my latest celebrity gossip. (How do you think Hubby heard about the scheduled Johnny Depp appearance?) That, and my daily laughs of stupid conversation topics. Like the worst advice your parent may have given you. Or the worst back-handed compliment someone may have said to you. That last one was spurred by the description Marlon Brando apparently made about Jackie Onassis in an unpublished passage of his biography. If you hadn't heard the latest news, Brando and Jackie O. allegedly had an affair about a year after JFK was assassinated. He described her as having "boyish hips" and a "muscular frame." Now, as a non-girly girl, I don't find anything offensive about that comment. But I suppose if I was seen as the fashion icon of the '60's ... it would be considered a slap in the face. And that's how radio listeners began to call in with various back-handed compliments they had received in the past. One woman called in saying that a blind date told her over dinner that she was "stocky" and then made things worse by rescinding it back and calling her "healthy." [caption id="attachment_1828" align="alignright" width="264" caption="Apron Strings on them "Child-bearing Hips""][/caption] Another woman called in about a shoe salesman who told her that her legs and ankles were "pretty thick." So of course I had to turn to Hubby and tell him the worse compliment that I can remember being told. And that was that I had excellent "child-bearing hips." For the life of me, I can't remember who had told me that. But I do remember that it was prior to marrying Hubby. Which would mean that it would be before Hubby and I even started trying to "bear children." And even though I do have a large-ish ba-dunk-a-dunk, which is supported by them wide hips of mine ... it still stings a bit when I remember that "compliment." Especially after all the years of my hips failing to bear those children. D*mnit. Shakira was wrong. Apparently, hips *do* lie. Okay, so 'fess up, blog world. What's the worst compliment anyone has given to you?

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Emily — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 00:39:06 +0000

I'm Not Just Annoyin' ...

Emily — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 03:56:13 +0000

Oh no ... I'm Illinoian! Yes, as a relatively "new" person to the great State of Illinois, I could not resist putting that statement out there. Well that -- and given what my "early" birthday gift from Hubby was -- it just fits to a tee (as in "tee-hee!"). See for yourself ...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ0p9KG_i7c]

Oh yes, Hubby got me one of those really cool Flip video camcorders. One that I only recently thought would be cool to have. Because really, I'm all about capturing moments in time ... but I've always been more of the photograph type of gal, rather than an "America's Funniest Videos" type of gal. Except now with this cool hand-held camcorder, I can record even the funniest verbal and visual moments in time. Which now means I can take my blogging to a whole new level. And the best part of it is ... I'm the one behind the camera instead. So I can start grilling poor Hubby nonstop. Like today. We finally got a chance to do the whole Chicago Architecture Tour on the River. It's something we've been wanting to do since doing the Frank Lloyd Wright walking tour a few years back. So today was the day that we planned on doing it. The river tour, I mean. Yep, for Independence Day we thought it would be a fun thing to do. Be able to see the skyline of Chicago at a whole other level. Except it was cold. And raining. And it was nothing like it was yesterday when we went to the beach. And swam. And got sunburned ... Well, let's just see what Hubby had to say about it ...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqWA60p6OEc]

Okay. That's enough for now. Just wanted to have a little fun with my new "toy." Hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July ... and managed to stay dry. Unlike Hubby and me. Happy Birthday, USA!

Born on the 6th of July

Emily — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 03:56:47 +0000

I'm coming up on the last minutes of my actual birthday; I turned 37 years old today. And while I'm not exactly thrilled to be another year older, I must admit that this has been a wonderful day. Actually, it's been a wonderful four days. It started out on Friday with the corporate Independence Day holiday; which meant I wasn't chained to my desk or weighted down by twenty zillion emails on my work-issued crackberry. It was also the only day Hubby and I both knew we'd have all to our own this entire weekend. So what did we do? Spent it sleeping in until about 9 am, followed shortly after by the presentation of my "early" birthday gift. Then it was off to Evanston and on to the beach, where we spent the afternoon swimming in the cool (but not freezing) Lake Michigan weather and lying on our large two-person beach towel reading. That was followed by a really late lunch (or early dinner) at the local seafood restaurant and a movie at the Evanston theater. Overall, a very relaxing day. Saturday morning was spent cleaning, in anticipation of my parents arriving by train later in the afternoon. And really, that was probably the most work I did all weekend long. (Except for that relatively last-minute document that work required me to have completed by Friday morning ... ) By 1 pm Saturday afternoon, Hubby and I were on the Chicago River waiting for our Chicago Architecture Foundation (CAF) docent to begin our tour of the significant buildings along the river. It was an excellent tour and it definitely gave us a different view of the Chicago skyline; one we had never seen before. The only downer was that it was a very cold and wet day. Oh well, this just means we'll have to go again on a brighter and sunnier day. :-) My parents "rolled" into town around 5 pm on Saturday evening. And because it was still raining at the time, we headed over to the Water Tower only to find that the indoor shopping center would close at 6 pm. So instead, we took the Lakeshore scenic drive up to Evanston to have dinner at the same seafood restaurant Hubby & I ate at the day before. What I didn't realize at the time was that Hubby was already thinking in "advance." You see, by the time we made it up to Evanston, the rain and clouds blew over leaving a clear evening sky in its place. Which made it perfect weather for Evanston's 4th of July fireworks. So after dinner, we walked down to Patriot's Park along the waterfront and sat front and center for the show. Perfect way to end the day. Yesterday (Sunday) was spent at the Shedd Aquarium downtown in Chicago's Museum District. Hubby & I had been there earlier in the year when our nephew Tyler spent his Easter break with us. Unfortunately, the sea-quarium was being remodeled, so we didn't get to see the dolphins or whales at that time. But yesterday ... those beauties were back. And showing off just for my parents; who had never been there. For my parents, I think the best part was the whole "Wild Reef" exhibit, which is the shark exhibit. Hubby & I had been to the Shedd about 5 years ago when this exhibit first opened; mainly because our nephew has always had a thing for sharks. What we hadn't expect was:

The sharks to be so d*mn small at the time, and
The whole exhibit to revolve around protecting coral reefs

The whole coral reef aspect was the same thing that both my parents and Hubby & me loved. And that's because the Philippine Islands played a ginormous role throughout the exhibit. What we had learned is that the Philippine waters house the largest, most diverse fish and coral life in the world. And seeing how prominent the role of the Philippines played everywhere in this display, it was an absolute cool way to learn more about my heritage and where my parents came from! And today ... "B"-day (as opposed to "D"-day ... ;-) ). I wasn't expecting much of anything other than a (well-deserved) day off from work to spend with my Hubby and parents as we traipse through the town. But it was such a fun day! We started out in Chinatown where we walked through and picked up a variety of different things ... like a back scratcher (can never have enough of them) and a hand-painted fan (for those hot days). Oh, and some delish sweet and sour gummies from an Asian candy store ... yum! However, the real reason to go to Chinatown was to have a Dim Sum feast at our favorite Chinese restaurant. And because it was my birthday, I had to have my traditional "Long Life" noodle dish! While in a post-food ingestion haze, Hubby drove all of us over to the Sears -- oops, I mean Willis -- Tower to do the most touristy thing in Chicago. Yep, went all the way up to the observation deck; but not before spending more than an hour in line. But it was definitely worth it ... the views of the city were absolutely spectacular!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwP773Txp9Y]

And then there were the glass balconies. Oh yes; glass. It's the newest part of the the attraction; four retractable glass balconies that allows a view of the city that's definitely unique. As in "103-stories-straight-down" unique. It was a little daunting at first, but once I was on there it wasn't so bad ... as long as I didn't continue to look down for extended periods of time. From then, it was just a matter of taking silly pictures of us "falling" or "hanging on to dear life." And of course, since I'm such a "rebel," I had to do something "dangerous" ... well at least what others would perceive as dangerous. Oh yeah ... I made Hubby take a picture of me jumping on the balcony. Which, if one didn't know how absolutely reinforced these balconies were by steel, would really freak anyone else that was on the balcony when I jumped. Heh ... told you I was a rebel. My parents took us out to dinner afterwards, at my place of choice. But because my parents had yet to to experience authentic Chicago deep dish pizza. So that's how we ended up at Pizzeria Due and stuffed beyond belief and in desperate need of something to do walk off all the food we ate. That's how my Mom, Hubby and I ended up at the beach 3 blocks from our apartment, walking along the lakeshore. And it was a beautiful evening to do so as well, with the full moon shimmering off the lake. Afterwards, it was back to the apartment where, after an unexpected phone call from Dr. Bro (who actually remembered to call on my actual birthday -- a miracle in itself), Hubby surprised me with a birthday cake. And so that was my Birthday weekend. A lot of activity in a small span of time. I'm so grateful my parents were there to celebrate it with me. And I'm so incredibly lucky to have a Hubby that loves me so much. So now I'm off to do a little more work before heading off to bed. I'm not going into work tomorrow, as we're taking my parents to the train station late-morning, but this is something with an unfortunate deadline. And what a blessing it will be to have tomorrow off. Because after a busy four days, this 37-year old body certainly needs the rest.

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Emily — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 15:35:32 +0000

Happy Birthday, Hubby!

Emily — Sun, 19 Jul 2009 15:37:20 +0000

Oh, I know I've been very neglectful of my blog lately. Life has just gotten in the way of sitting down and writing ... something that I absolutely love to do. Hopefully as the summer events start winding down (d*mnit! Why don't Adults get summer vacation?!), I will find myself with more time to write. In any case, I just wanted to post a quickie here to wish my wonderful Hubby a Happy Birthday!! Without you, my world would be less colorful, less joyful, less caring. With you, this world is brighter, funnier, inspirational, and loving. Thanks to the miraculous event that occured, oh -- some thirty-so years ago -- you became part this world and your heart, even then, belonged to me. I love you with all that I am ... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=keyJ9lvQc7Y

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Block-Head

Emily — Mon, 03 Aug 2009 01:01:30 +0000

July had been a pretty busy month; and now, here we are in August and I feel as if I haven't accomplished much lately. And when I mean "accomplish," I mean sitting down and feeling satisfied that I've produced something that would be worth writing about ... let alone have others read. [caption id="attachment_1861" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Lego Boy and DS Boy (with their parents) on their first El ride"][/caption] I've started many a posts over the past couple of weeks; all in an attempt to at least write. Except they never made it past the first few paragraphs because ... well, I've been just plain exhausted. Oh, who the h*ll am I kidding?! I've got major writer's block and I'm not sure how to solve it other than rambling endlessly of seemingly trivial things. Like how for Hubby's birthday on the 19th, we got new iPhones. (So. Frickin. Cool!!) Or how work had sucked royally from the end of June until about midway through July (when my manager took a two week vacation). Or even how excited I was to meet Alexa and Mel. And Aunt Becky and Io. (BlogHer Chicago, bay-beh!) [caption id="attachment_1860" align="aligncenter" width="474" caption="The Mysterious Io and Aunt Becky "][/caption] Or how much frickin' fun Hubby and I had when his Aunt and Uncle along with three of his younger cousins (which included future "Lego Engineer") came to visit. (Wii Rockband + Lake Michigan Beach = Tons o' Fun) Nope. Got nothin' in this brain of mine that I've felt have been in depth or insightful. Not that I haven't had those thoughts ... I just can't seem to get them down on paper -- er, on my laptop. At the very least, I wanted to share some pictures from my meet-up with some awesome bloggie friends from Blogher Chicago. (Un)fortunately, I didn't get a chance to actually attend the conference. But seeing that it was literally being held across the Chicago River (just one short jaunt across the Columbus Drive bridge) from where I work, I had to at least try to meet up with these women who have provided me with such incredible emotional support over the past three years. [caption id="attachment_1862" align="aligncenter" width="477" caption="The "Stirrups Queen" herself (with the Tiara), Mel along with me, Io and Aunt Becky (left to right)"][/caption] Unfortunately, as Hubby's been slammed with work lately, he was not able to Photoshop us into Super-Hot Uber babes. (Sorry, chicas ... but we're all beautiful anyway!) [caption id="attachment_1863" align="alignright" width="158" caption="Io with Mel's Book. And a Bobble-head Robert Osbourne."][/caption] Anyhoo ... I just wanted to, at the very least, refresh my blog for now. Well, at least until inspiration strikes, anyway. Oh, and to wish the wonderful Io a most excellent birthday. Here's hoping you get to spend more time with A. instead of Robert Osbourne. But seriously peeps ... anyone got any good cures for Writer's Block?

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Emily — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 05:02:03 +0000

lilo

Emily — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 05:59:24 +0000

Walt in the World?!

Emily — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 06:01:57 +0000

My cousin, who otherwise loves the Disney Channel, recently made a comment about how Disney hates Asians. She commented on how many of the Asian actresses or cartoon characters on this network tend to be portrayed as either b*tchy or ditzy. Well, other than Mulan, that is. And even though my cousin might disagree, I do think Lilo (from "Lilo & Stitch") can technically be considered an Asian. Because ... and follow along with me here ... The Philippine Islands are located in the Pacific ocean. Therefore, Filipinos are considered Pacific Islanders and are lumped into the "Asian/Pacific Islander" category (as "dictated" by the US Census Bureau). And seeing as if the Hawaiian Islands are in the Pacific ... Yeah, so that's my logic in explaining Lilo's Asian-ness ... But my cousin's comment reminded me of something that was pointed out to me by one of Hubby's cousins last summer on our trip to Disneyworld. While at Mickey's Toontown Fair, we stumbled upon one of the biggest mass-marketing stores inside the Magic Kingdom. Inside this store were rows and rows of toys from various movies. One entire section was dedicated to the Disney Princesses. What Hubby's cousin pointed out to us was this: Rather inconspicuous, don't you think? I mean really ... Snow White, Belle, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty in one package. Princess Jasmine, Ariel, Mulan and Pocahontes in a separate package. The "Classic Princesses" (although, I question if Belle, created in 1991, is considered a "classic") in one set, at eye level on the shelves. And the rather "unique" Princesses (an Arabian Princess, a Redheaded Mermaid, a "China Doll" and an American Indian Princess) in another set, located at waist level on the shelf below. To me, it's one of those things that make you go "Hmmmm ...." Anyhoo, going back to my cousin's initial comment ... the reason I'm writing about this topic is because I've often felt the same thing about the way that American mass media portrays Asians. And specifically Asian-American females. It seems as if we're perceived as being one or the other.

Yeah ... Lilo is a "Pacific Islander"

Bitchy or subservient. Intelligent or ditzy. Foreign-born or Adopted. As an American-born and bred Filipina (and even for those that may have been born "abroad" but spent there formative years growing up in the US), this is a rather annoying (and not to mention incorrect) observation that has not often been voiced aloud. I can't tell you how many people have asked when my Hubby (who is also Filipino) and I moved to the US. And did we marry each other before moving here? Or did we marry after one of us became a US citizen? (The answer is NO for both questions, btw ... we met in high school here and subsequently married here six years after we started dating.) And while I'm on the same subject, I can't tell you how many of my Asian girlfriends who married "non-Asians" have been told by others that they thought they were "mail order brides." Just because they married outside of their culture. Or how about when I was working at the beside as a Registered Nurse in a hospital setting? I found myself taking care of many American Vets who served in either WWII or the Korean/Vietnam wars. And many times, I was told that they could "never understand" me because my Chinese / Vietnamese / Korean / Japanese accent was "too strong." Even though I speak perfectly clear English with my hometown Midwestern accent. I could go on and on. Like my first job at a local fast food establishment; where my boss thought that Asians were "too smart for their own good" and should not be allowed to work the cash registers. Or even this incident, mentioned in one of my much earlier blog post. But then it would seem as if I'm merely "complaining." The truth is, I hope that others would see that not all Asian women fit into any one stereotype. That we are all unique, just like every other woman out there. That like every Disney Princess out there, we want to be recognized for the unique strengths we can offer to this world ... regardless of how we physically see our "outer" reflections in the mirror. And so, to bring it all back to Disney ... here's a song from one of my favorite movies of all time; one that sometimes hits closer to home than I'd like it to.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5A_Rl8aQxII]

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Emily — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 01:22:16 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 01:34:50 +0000

Rain, Don't Go Away (Part Un)

Emily — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 01:37:06 +0000

There's this story about a dog and a cat that has resonated within me since hearing it for the first time. It's a story told to us by an employee (possibly owner?) of the neighborhood pet store we discovered this past summer.

Her story followed after ours; the one in which we found out that our 19 year old cat, Rain, was deaf. Yes, that's right. Our senior citizen cat is deaf. But more on that pet story after this one.

The pet shop employee's (I'll call her PS for short) story began with her own experiences with a deaf pet. She had told us about her cat and dog who always displayed such a unique relationship their entire lives. Ever since they were both kitten and puppy, they had played together and snuggled together; stuck by each others' sides.

PS had known, once they were both much older, that her dog had become deaf. And she knew this because he would never respond to her calls out to his name. And he would only obey her with non-verbal signs, rather than PS's spoken commands. But despite this, he would always know whenever it was feeding time; always was right there the minute his bowl was set down for dinner.

There was a reason, PS speculated, that this dog knew it was dinner time. And this wasn't because of his sense of smell. Rather it was because whenever the can opener would go off, PS noticed that her cat would suddenly start meowing loudly and (if she wasn't already snuggling next to him) would rush over to where her dog was at, as if to wake him up. PS had witnessed, at various times, her cat nudge her best friend to get his attention ... and then would watch as the two of them would enter the kitchen side-by-side, almost as if they were attached at the hip.

[caption id="attachment_1884" align="alignleft" width="225" caption=""Comical" Rain"][/caption] It wasn't until weeks after her finally dog passed away that PS realized something was also wrong with her cat. She had thought, at first, that her cat stopped eating because she was so emotionally distraught about the loss of her best friend. But whenever PS put cat treats directly in front of her, she would gobble them up and immediately ask for more, as if she was starved. If picked up and placed directly in front of her food, this cat would also gobble up her food as if there was no tomorrow. But the thing is, PS ever picked up her up and set her down elsewhere in the house (whether it be the kitchen or any other room), this cat would immediately start meowing and wandering around in circles.

And that's when PS realized that her cat was actually blind. It was also when she realized that all the years of her cat nudging her dog during dinner time was not only so that her deaf dog would know when supper was ... it was also her dog's way of leading her blind cat into the kitchen.

[caption id="attachment_1891" align="alignright" width="166" caption="Rain, cuddling inside my jumper in the early '90's"][/caption] It took weeks of training, PS told us, but eventually the cat was retrained on how to get to and from her food bowl by memory whenever dinner time rolled around. Sadly though, this poor cat died within a year of her best friend.

I remember this story every time I snuggle with my cat, Rain. And I know that it's only because I will be completely devastated when Rain finally passes away.

I don't purposely mean to become so melancholy while remembering PS's story. In reality, my Rain will be 20 years old next year, and despite her being deaf ... she's had quite an amazing life. One that includes finding her at approximately 6-wks old underneath Dr. Bro's car in the midst of a late spring thunderstorm. There's been moments of catching her at 1-yr old snuggling next to our family beagle, Muffin ... who was always so gentle and kind enough to let her smack her around a bit. I remember the periods of adjustments she's had to make when getting used to other "roommates" ... whether it was Hubby moving in with us, or the variety of other pets we've collected since being married. And I remember one particularly difficult period of time, which included surgery to repair a broken leg. (All of which occured simutaneously during my one IVF cycle, btw ...)

Sadly, we discovered Rain's loss of hearing earlier this year. And it's only because I had made the comment to Hubby one day that poor Rain developed the habit of yeowling* late at night whenever we had already gone to bed. I would complain about how loud it was and how I would have rather dealt with her late-night sudden bursts of energy** instead.

When Hubby mentioned this to a co-worker of his, she mentioned that her cat did the same thing before she found out from her vet that her cat was deaf. The vet had told her that cats do this when they start losing their hearing because cats apparently don't like it when things are completely silent. So they start to meow loudly, hoping that they could hear something. Anything.

[caption id="attachment_1886" align="alignleft" width="246" caption="Rain with the family dog, Muffin"][/caption] At first I refused to believe that her loud yeowling meant that Rain was going deaf. So I began to test her. Call her name while she was busy eating. Snap my fingers at her while she was asleep. Clap my hands loudly while she walked the opposite direction. All to try to get her attention. And all in vain. Because she had, indeed, lost her hearing.

While she no longer was afraid of big ole Kozzy bounding up to her (she couldn't HEAR how loudly our dog would come prancing towards her), she began to startle a little more easily. And while she no longer does her late night excercising by running all around the apartment, she has begun to sleep more and more frequently.

And I know it's all about Rain getting older. And that this is the natural "circle of life." But it doesn't stop me from feeling sad about what's eventually going to come. That perhaps, I will be like PS's cat in the story above ... so reliant on all the comfort and happiness that Rain has given me all these years, that I'd feel lost without her.

Rain, Rain ... Don't go away Stay with me another day

* Yeowling = Howling and Meowing simutaneously

** I swear, there are nights where I thought that the cats had more than a "nip" of that Catnip ...

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Read Part Deuce here ...

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Emily — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 14:48:58 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 14:55:22 +0000

Please Stay Another Day (Part Deuce)

Emily — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 14:58:31 +0000

I think it's rather strange how, after writing my last post, Chicago has been raining off and on. This weekend is pretty much going to be the same of scattered showers. I'm thinking that perhaps Mother Naure took my little quote at the end of that post a little too literally. The following post was meant as a continuation of my last one; following up on further emotions I've been experiencing lately. All because of PS' story. And all because of the unconditional love my cat, Rain, has given me throughout the years ... So without further ado, I give you Part Deuce.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

[caption id="attachment_1897" align="alignleft" width="272" caption="Rain gets along with everyone and everything ..."][/caption] I think about the eventual loss of Rain, sometimes in conjuction with my inability to have kids of my own. Oh, I know that I place a lot of importance in my pets because they are, in essence, the children I will never(?) have. Even for those families with *actual* children and pets can understand how much these animals become part of your life. They are a source of unconditional love and happiness. There are moments that I swear that my pets understand me; know me intuitively. It's as if they have a direct line to my emotions. When I'm happy, they're out and about trying to play with me. When I'm angry, they know to stay clear from my path. (Except my puppy-girl, Kozzy. Sometimes she's a little ... slow, but we love her to bits!) And then there are the sad moments; particularly the moments that I've been in tears. Those are the moments where my pets seem to come out of the woodworks and surround me. Not all at once; as a mob of 2 cats and a dog would be quite a scene. No, they seem to come around, one by one, as if to make sure I'm never quite ... alone. [caption id="attachment_1898" align="alignright" width="209" caption="Yami, obviously NOT ..."][/caption] The past few years, my pets have shown exactly how much they love me. Especially after all the events that had happened to throw my life off kilter. You know ... the life that I thought I might have? The one in which I dreamed of the family that I would have had by now. The one in which there are still days or moments or news of pregnancies that I still, to this day, mourn the loss over. Yes, these pets ... my Rain, Kozzy and Yami ... are, next to Hubby, another reason why every day I try to put one foot in front of the other. And it's because, just like Hubby, they've seen the worst in me and they still love me unconditionally. Kozzy still puts her nose right up to my face when I lay paralyzed on the couch. Rain still jumps onto the bed on those days when I can't seem to get out of bed and plops herself to the side of me, pressing her entire body up against me. Yami still jumps onto my lap and then settles in my arms whenever I sit on the couch staring off into space, burying her entire head up into the crook of my elbow. And they do that independently of any specific events and on their very own accord ... all to, in my opinion, make certain that I'm alright. And that I'm not alone. I know that my pets shower me with love and affection because they know that Hubby & I are there for them unconditionally. Oh, believe me ... they piss us both off sometimes to the point where I literally wish I could send the dog to the imaginary dog house, or the cats into a corner where they'd know not to come out until it was safe. But I also think that with the love and affection we provide them, they just want to reciprocate the feelings in the best way that they can. [caption id="attachment_1900" align="alignleft" width="222" caption="Kozzy doesn't mind the company ..."][/caption] PS's story (in the previous post) and the fact that Hubby & I are caring for a pet that is on the downward slope of her life, had stirred up some emotions over the past couple of weeks. And it's those thoughts of exactly who is going to care for us when we're older. And who will be providing us with assistance to get around. I see it with my parents, as I'm now about 5 hours by car from them. I worry about how they are able to get to and from Doctor's appointments and if they're actually following up on their health. I worry about my Mom taking a tumble and injuring herself. I worry about my Dad with his heart and his weight and his kidneys. I worry that I'm not going to be able to be there at the moment they need me the most. * Oh, I know realistically that it's not always guaranteed that having kids will automatically mean that Hubby and I have someone that will take care of us in our older age as no one can predict the future. If Hubby & I did have kids, who's to say that (God forbid) our child doesn't pass away before us? Or that our imaginary child decides that he/she wants nothing to do with us? Or that we'd have a child that requires us to physically care for him/her 24/7? I know it's not worth it to place all my eggs in one basket, and to worry about things that I have no control over. But I do. Worry, that is. Not only because, quite frankly ... at my age their are no real good quality eggs to place in any basket. But also because one of my biggest fears is that I'll have outlived** everyone in my life, Hubby included ... and be all alone when I die. That there will be no one -- well at least no one who loved me unconditionally -- by my side. So it's with this thought that I know (irregardless of whether we eventually have kids ... I can still dream, after all) that I will always have some sort of pet in my life***. One who I will love unconditionally and who will love me unconditionally in return. I guess this means that Hubby & I will need to find a "Retirement Home" that will be willing to let us keep our pets! [caption id="attachment_1899" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="And there are days where Yami doesn't either ..."][/caption] * It's one of the biggest downsides of moving out of state, but my parents know that this was a move that I needed to do both physically and emotionally. And for that, I am grateful. ** Fat chance of this happening, as I can barely take care of my own health ... *** Except I might just take a little break from acquiring any other animals until I can get past the eventual hole that will be left in my heart when Rain finally goes away.

Love ...

Emily — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 01:02:17 +0000

Yep. It’s been awhile, but I’ve decided to PWP (password protect) the following post. For those that might be vaguely interested in reading it, please comment below and I’ll respond to you via email.

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Emily — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 01:23:03 +0000

... And Marriage

Emily — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 01:24:36 +0000

So, I’ve recently been bombarded of pregnancy news from … not one, but two … of Hubby’s family members. One was expected; a cousin who had been trying for the past three years to provide their son with a sibling (who, coincidentally is one of many god-children we have). The other, yet another cousin … this one was completely unexpected. [caption id="attachment_1909" align="alignleft" width="260" caption="Hubby with our Godson"][/caption] This pregnancy comes after we recently told a close friend of ours that, out of the two siblings from this household, she was the one that had a firmer head on her shoulders. Her older brother, a “player” of sorts, already has two young daughters from two different women. At the very least, he made an “honest woman” out of “Baby Momma” # 2. Unlike her brother, Firm Shoulder Cousin (FSC) was on a more “conventional” path. One that was “typical” of what was expected as a Filipino American.* So what if she was still in school to get her Bachelors Degree, more than 5 years after graduating from high school? She’s been working full-time and has been pretty successful in her career path. And although she had been seeing someone, she had no intention (at least from recent conversations with her) of settling down until later in life. And now FSC is pregnant … Which will supposedly be followed by a wedding; not now, but in 2011. (Seriously. Don’t bother asking.) What happened to love, marriage and then baby carriage? Maybe it’s a generational thing (both FSC and her brother are actually Gen Y kids while Hubby & I are most definitely Gen X kids), but it feels as if this generation has this belief that marriage is just an “afterthought.” Oh believe me … I’m not as conservative as you think. Not that I think that FSC should run out and get married just because of a second pink line in the pregnancy test. Because there’s nothing worse than getting married for anything other than love just because of an "extenuating circumstance." In fact, Hubby & I have always been the more liberal couple amongst both of our families (although Dr. Bro and Dr SIL are right up there as well).** I think this comes from years of growing up in a conservative household with conservative ideals (-ie- stick to your own kind, live life by the literal translation of the Bible, etc). But even though we’re open to different lifestyles and agree that each person has a God-given right to decide what is the best way to live their lives … Hubby and I have particularly been very “traditional” with our lifestyle choices. [caption id="attachment_1910" align="alignright" width="250" caption="Hubby with a few of his cousins"][/caption] I mean seriously … we did pretty much everything in the order in which other parents might have only dreamed about. And we did it by our own design and choice. Unfortunately, that baby carriage just never came. Which is why … well, it’s exactly why this pregnancy news stung this time around. Regardless of the news, I cannot be anything else but happy for both FSC and Hubby’s other cousin that is also pregnant. This will just mean more babies to coddle in the next few years. They just won’t be my own. * That would be the whole “finish your education (including college) before getting married and having kids” path. ** And that's what makes Hubby & I decidedly part of that Gen X group ...

Uncle Hubby's Recipe for Success*

Emily — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 03:44:57 +0000

* Specifically meant for those socially- and hormonally-challenged tween- and teenagers who require just a leeeee-tle redirection during such challenging times ...

With every positive action, there is a positive consequence. With every negative action, there is a negative consequence. .
It’s absolutely essential to treat other people with respect to achieve those positive consequences. .
If you’ve done something to upset or anger another person, it’s a sure sign you’ve been disrespectful. And that’s a negative consequence. .
If you don’t know exactly what you’ve done wrong, it never hurts to ask that person so you can understand what you did wrong. .
When asking “Why?” (as in “Why am I in trouble?”) in order to understand a potentially confusing situation, do not make it sound like a complaint. Instead approach it as a way to recognize that you’ve upset the other person. For example, “Help me understand why I hurt you?” .
Once you recognize what you’ve done to offend the other person, apologize. .
When apologizing, be very specific about what you’re apologizing about. And be honest. And mean it. .
After apologizing, make a promise to that person that you will not do whatever offending act you’ve done in the future. And never ever break that promise. .
Also after the apology, be on your absolute best behavior. Don’t complain when someone asks you do to something. Don’t sulk or pout. The more you show you’re making the effort to be good, the more respect you’ll gain ... The more positive consequences will occur. .
Respecting other people will gain their trust and earn their respect in return. .
The more respect and trust you give and receive, the more privileges in life you’ll be granted. . And finally ... .
Ultimately, earning the respect and trust from others will earn you life-long friendships; friends that would bend over backwards to help you out when you need them most.

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Post Script

Emily — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 02:00:54 +0000

So there’s also another thing that has been bothering me lately. One that also requires being password protected (PWP). Hence the second PWP post in a matter of one week. For those that followed along from the previous PWP post, the password remains the same. For those that might be vaguely interested in reading it, please comment below and I’ll respond to you via email.

Afterthought

Emily — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 02:01:15 +0000

I have to say, I’m surprised at myself for writing, not twice but three times in one week. Holy Crap … that hasn’t happened since … uhm, June? But this particular PWP-post has been a long time in coming. It just happens to come at a time where it actually somewhat relates to the previous PWP post. The title of this post is really the reason for the connection to that post. However, in that particular post, “Afterthought” was talked about in the context of marriage being a “post-script” to pregnancy. This post … well, “Afterthought” is meant in a whole different manner. [caption id="attachment_1924" align="alignright" width="182" caption="Kairi, 7 months old"][/caption] Perhaps it’s the fact that our niece, Kairi, will be approaching her first birthday this Saturday … perhaps it’s remembering where I was emotionally about a year ago this week. Perhaps it’s the fact that we’ve been trying to schedule time to have our 13 year old nephew spend a weekend with us and had been running into “issues.” Regardless, the term to “Afterthought” is a discussion that Hubby & I had in regards to our nephew, Tyler. Especially at this very moment ... as he finally got a chance to stay with us for a couple days, along with his grandparents (who, of course, are my in-laws). Before we were able to confirm that Tyler was going to be here earlier this week, Hubby and I had plans for him to visit us at another particular time. Specifically, this was the weekend when Hubby’s younger cousins were here visiting us. But instead of just staying at our place for just the weekend (like Hubby’s cousins were doing), plans were made for Tyler to spend the entire week with us. Hubby’s Aunt and Uncle would take him with their family to Chicago that weekend. And subsequently, Hubby & I would drive him back to Detroit with us a week later. Except his mom “decided” it would be too much of a bother for everyone involved; even though their Aunt/Uncle and Hubby & I were completely fine with it. [caption id="attachment_1925" align="alignleft" width="251" caption="Kairi and her Uncle"][/caption] So that bothered us; as it seemed like that whole trip to stay with us was causing more of an “inconvenience” for my SIL, rather than an inconvenience for us. Seriously. It wasn’t as if Tyler or my SIL had any important plans for that week or anything. Another issue that bothered Hubby & I was the matter of the recent “Family Vacation” SIL took to NYC to visit her husband’s side of the family. The one where everyone in Kairi’s dad’s side got to finally meet the little cutie. Oh, did I forget to mention that Tyler didn't go on this trip? That instead, he went to Virginia with my in-laws to visit other family members on Hubby and SIL’s side? Now granted, Tyler was given the choice to decide which trip he wanted to take. But see … that’s it. Blended family or not, if this was supposed to be a family vacation ... I wouldn’t have given my 13 year old son any choice in the matter. I mean really … if this was the first time in so many years that you’ve had a chance to “get away” from daily life (which, by the way, includes currently living with my in-laws … a teenager and a baby for my retired MIL to care for daily) … wouldn’t you have wanted to spend it together? As a family? [caption id="attachment_1926" align="alignright" width="265" caption="Tyler and Auntie Em (being silly, of course)"][/caption] Maybe I’m wrong in assuming such a thought. Or maybe my SIL did want to “get away” from daily life … a life which includes caring for a 13 year old son from a previous marriage; a marriage that she’s always viewed of as a “mistake” …One she would rather sweep under the rug and forget. And maybe, just maybe, our nephew is lumped into that “mistake” … It’s heresy, I know. It’s all a big assumption. Which, of course if the saying is true, makes me a big a$$ . But it’s this honest-to-God gut feeling that I have in my heart. So how does this translate to the discussion Hubby & I had about our nephew? Well, given the two examples above … and, I’m sure the frame of mind we’ve both been in lately … we’ve speculated that there were moments where Tyler was viewed, in both of his parent’s eyes, as an “Afterthought.” Meaning that in the hierarchy of his immediate family, it’s as if he’s down at the very bottom of the list of importance. And not only that, it’s almost -- on some days -- that he’s completely off his immediate family’s radar. Without soundling like complete a$$es, I must stress that Hubby & I share this train of thinking only because of our personal experiences with his sister … And because of our observations of her interactions with her son. [caption id="attachment_1927" align="alignleft" width="259" caption="Tyler in Chicago, Spring Break 2009"][/caption] And we’ve had these thoughts, quite frankly, because of our own interactions with Tyler himself. Especially after the very long discussion we had with Tyler on the last night he was here earlier this week. I know, I know. I speak -- well, in this case, type -- in what is probably more frustration than anything else right now. Out of pure anger over my own infertility situation. After all, who am I to judge how my SIL … or anyone, for that matter … should live her life? To decide what is most important to her? To prioritize what she thinks matters most? Realistically, I believe that everybody had that God given right to decide how their days should be lived out here on Earth. Except emotionally … well, emotionally I’d just know what I’d do; how I would treat Tyler. If he was my own child.

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Emily — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 16:03:42 +0000

Lucky Number Thirteen

Emily — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 16:04:22 +0000

My Dearest Hubby --

[caption id="attachment_1935" align="alignright" width="218" caption="This is your silly wife ..."][/caption] I can't believe it's been thirteen years since we walked down the aisle and promised everlasting love to each other. We have been through many ups and downs ... especially these past few years ... but we've stuck together like glue.

You are my Winter, Spring, and Summer. And you are my most favorite season of all ... Autumn.

You are my colorful Fall leaves. You are my Apple Cider and Donuts. You're my Football Saturdays. And thirteen years ago, under a beautiful golden-red Harvest Moon, we pledged our love to one another ...

I couldn't be more happier with our life together ...

Have you ever seen a sight as beautiful As that of the rain-soaked purple Of the white birch in spring? Have you ever felt more fresh or wonderful Than on a warm fall night Under a mackerel sky, The smell of grapes on the wind? [caption id="attachment_1934" align="alignleft" width="154" caption="Comical Breakfast with Hunny "][/caption] Well I have known all these things And the joys that they can bring And I'll share them all for a cup of coffee And to wear your ring Have you ever had the pleasure of watching A quiet winters snow slowly gathering Like simple moments adding up? Have you ever satisfied a gut feeling To follow a dry dirt road thats beckoning you To the heart of a shimmering summers day? . Well I have known all these things And the joys that they can bring And I'll share them all for a cup of coffee And to wear your ring [caption id="attachment_1938" align="alignright" width="156" caption="Seriously? You still love me?!"][/caption] And I don't know how I survived those days Before I held your hand Well I never thought that I would be the one To admit that the moon and the sun Shine so much more brighter when Seen through two pairs of eyes than When seen through just one [caption id="attachment_1933" align="alignleft" width="154" caption="The Love of My Life ... "][/caption] Have you ever seen a sight as beautiful As a face in a crowd of people That lights up just for you? Have you ever felt more fresh or wonderful As when you wake By the side of that boy or girl Who has pledged their love to you? Well I have known all these things And the joys that they can bring And now every morning there's a cup of coffee And I wear your ring
-- "Anniversary Song" by Cowboy Junkies

Meet Me Halfway

Emily — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 03:14:54 +0000

I used to think that the more "hits" I had on my blog a day signified how much of an impact I was making in the infertility world. I thought that the more people I "reached" through my writing, the more people would relate to my struggle. Of course now that this blog is more that two years old, I know the real truth.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Today Hubby and I hung out downtown after I got off work today. Oprah had conveniently closed down Michigan Avenue to celebrate her 24th season opener. And -- even though I'd love to say Hubby and I went down there because we're such "newbies" to the city -- the truth is that we both saw attending this huge event as such a unique opportunity.

Because seriously ... when would something like this ever happen if we were living in Detroit? (No ... Superbowl XL does not count!) [caption id="attachment_1966" align="alignright" width="174" caption="I could totally see all the activities from my 21st floor Office Building! "][/caption] I mean, really ... who else, other than Oprah could get the City of Chicago to shut down the streets for the day? As a fellow co-worker, who's Hubby works for the Police Dept said, "They don't even shut down the streets for the funerals of fellow Police Officers or Firemen!" Since the "show" was not being streamed live on TV, there were many takes between segments. The Black Eyed Peas would perform one song, be interviewed and then perform a second song; all with probably a nice 15 minute interlude between "scenes." The same thing happened after Cris Angel performed and before Jennifer Hudson's "band" set up for her performance. Many times between segments, the crowd was able to hear what Oprah would be saying; a hazzard of the trade, since she was "mic"-ed the whole time. Not to mention the fact that she pretty much had cameras on her the entire time. Those circumstances obviously made for a couple funny moments. Like the time Oprah was caught asking her make-up crew to apply more powder to her. Or when she mentioned out loud that it was a good thing she wore extra deodorant today. It was in hearing her voice "live" (versus on the TV) that suddenly made Oprah "real" to me. And actually seeing and hearing those "every day" type of comments / actions? Well, I guess that just confirmed to me that Oprah wasn't just some "high up on a pedestal" type of person. [caption id="attachment_1967" align="alignleft" width="170" caption="Too bad I couldn't get any closer!"][/caption] Before today Oprah always seemed to represent an untouchable legend; a person that could probably not do a thing wrong. A powerful person whose whose opinions and/or commentaries could influence mass audiences anywhere. A person, who ... by just her voice alone, could certainly make an impact. And today I also realized that Oprah was a person who, despite how incredibly "popular" a celebrity she is, appeared to be quite lonely. A person, who, as incredibly approachable as she seemed to be, appeared to "wish" that someone -- anyone -- would approach her in between segments. Instead, the majority of the time she ended up sitting alone by the side of the stage. To the people surrounding her (whether her crew or even the audience), they most likely shied away from her so as not to intrude her space. Now if given an opportunity, I could speculate that Oprah would have loved to show her soft, compassionate and intimate side. And I say that only because during the course of the evening, I happened to witness two instances. One occasion involved Jennifer Hudson who, in her postpartum hormonal state, sought reassurance from Oprah that her performance was absolutely spectacular. (It was!) The other instance occurred when a fan, apparently close enough to talk to Oprah, mentioned to her that it was her birthday. And Oprah, with her response, mentioned that she recognized the birthday girl dancing during the one of the Black Eyed Peas songs. In both those instances, I'm sure that each individual who received such attention from Oprah (as in "Oprah, the Legend") was "touched" by such simple actions. And I hope that both individuals were humbled that, if approached or even met half way, Oprah would make any attempt to engage them into her personal world ... at whatever level she felt comfortable.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Okay, so what does Oprah have to do about blog writing and/or making an impact on the world? Well, let me share with you the revelation I had on the train-ride home tonite: It doesn't matter how many people I "reach" (or how many "hits" I get) on a daily basis ... it's simply the thought that I've somehow impacted someone somewhere down the line; whether it be a simple statement said or an observation made. And that even though I don't get the monstrous number of "hits" or "comments" that I would love to get ... I am making a difference to that one person who is willing to understand me and "meet me half way."

And now ... check out the "footage" I shot from the show ... It's the Black Eyed Peas performing their latest single, "Meet Me Halfway"

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xd_ldpKJKd4]

It's too bad I had to work all day ... otherwise I would have loved to be on the other side of this monitor!

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Emily — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 03:38:25 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 03:53:24 +0000

Today's Gonna Be A Good Day

Emily — Sat, 12 Sep 2009 13:37:17 +0000

Just wanted to quickly share the video from Oprah's season opening performance by the Black Eyed Peas. This was Frickin. Amazing. Just to see how they got close to 21,000 people to do this dance was amazing!

And now I've got this song playing over and over in my mind. BUT ... I suppose if I had to have a song stuck in my head, this is a good one to have!

(To see the "official version" for better picture quality, click here!)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6518MXL737E]

Hook, Line and Sinker

Emily — Mon, 14 Sep 2009 12:00:58 +0000

It's that time of year again for me. College Football Saturdays, fresh apple cider and hot donuts, and fall TV season premieres. Oh, and knitting. For some reason, I tend to pick up the "sticks" (aka knitting needles) and a fresh "batch" of yarn around this time of the year. This year, instead of sticks I've picked up the "hooker." Uh ... I didn't say A hooker ... I said THE "hooker." As in a crochet needle. Geesh. Get your mind out of the gutter. Crocheting always reminds me of my Grandma Rose. In the years that she lived with us, and for decades after, I can't recall a time where she didn't have her crochet needles and ball of yarn inside her bag. She'd pull it out at various times; many times just to keep her hands busy. Grandma had told me that she picked up crocheting to help with her debilitating arthritis; that it helped loosen her joints, which I can clearly remember looking incredibly swollen and misshapen. While I believe that she took up the craft for that very reason, I also believe that she continued to do so because creating something was incredibly satisfying. (I can't tell you how many the heirloom tablecloths she made for every one of her children and grandchildren!) That, and the repetitive activity of pulling yarn through slipknot after slipknot was especially soothing. That's the reason I've enjoyed knitting and crocheting. The simple notion that continuously "picking" or "hooking" or "throwing" yarn over needles to produce a piece of art is calming. It's a way for me to relieve some stress and yet still feel fulfilled that I've actually made something out of a skein of yarn. Yet, while I love to knit and crochet, I only do so with an end project in mind. Otherwise I'd be making waay too many cup cozies or pot holders than any one of my family and friends would ever need. (Yikes!) So with the recent news within our circle of family/friends, it should come to no surprise as to what kind of project I'm currently working on. After five years of knitting/crocheting hats & booties or blankets for various family members or friends, you would think that I'd be able to forget about my own issues and focus on the project at hand. And many times I can ... In fact doing such projects and keeping such a blog is a very personal form of therapy for me. But there are those moments in the midst of making such creations where my childless situation hits me square in the chest. But then my thoughts somehow switch to the very good friend of mine; the one that taught me to knit. And I remember how lucky I am in other aspects of my life. Or, like last Thursday on the bus ride home, I remember my Grandma Rose; who taught me the basics of crocheting years and years ago. I remember each piece she's ever created especially for me. And how much they mean to me; now even more since her recent passing. And I remember that what I'm currently making is meant to bring up these emotions. Because feeling such sadness reminds me the importance that Hubby and I had placed on trying to have our own child ... and exactly how strong our love is to have survived everything we've gone through.

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Emily — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 07:28:15 +0000

Go To The Back of the Class

Emily — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 07:33:53 +0000

“Poor Me” … that was the headband that Sr. Barbara, the Third Grade teacher at my small Catholic school, would make one of 25 or so kids in my class wear for an entire day at any given moment. It was “awarded” to any classmate whose behavior she deemed appalling. [caption id="attachment_1993" align="alignright" width="237" caption="Imagine a headband like this, sans feathers, that had "Poor Me" written across it ..."][/caption] Lucky for me, I only found myself wearing that headband maybe once or twice during that year. Okay … maybe three times. There was that incident where Sr. Barbara caught me jump-roping outside during recess without my school uniform on. Relax Mom … I had shorts on underneath that lovely plaid jumper, so I wasn’t completely running around in my day-of-the-week underwear. The correct day-of-the-week underwear, may I add. (At least I think so …) Punishment like that would never fly in today’s classrooms. It’s (rightly) deemed too humiliating to present to a young child at such an impressionable age.* But that doesn’t stop other children from humiliating a fellow classmate. For instance, Nancy who got “caught” by others digging for gold might suddenly be called “Nose-picker Nancy.” Which, I suppose would be better than being called “Paste-eater Peter.” (I was unfortunately given the nickname “Dummily”)** Other school-ground embarrassment can also include the feeling of being isolated or singled-out. Perhaps it’s something as silly as refusing to play with a certain individual during lunchtime recess because he/she ate tuna sandwiches for lunch every day. Or it could be as typical as choosing a particular person last in gym class for your team just because he/she wasn’t athletic/graceful enough. Whatever humiliation is endured at that time, it’s cruel that -- even as adults -- we still act in such a manner. At times, playing the “Isolation Game” is blatantly obvious: A co-worker may avoid another co-worker for some incredibly vague reason or another. Or a fellow peer may request to be taken off certain projects just so that their name isn’t associated with another employee. Personally, I think it’s sad and childish that certain adults still feel they have to act out in this manner. *** Then there are those instances where inadvertent humiliation takes place. These are the moments in which one person unintentionally says something that results in the embarrassment of another person. These, if the offender actually realizes that he/she said something off-color … well, these would be known as the “Open Mouth, Insert Foot” moments. Allow me to use the example in which a skinny friend goes out to meet with her weight-conscious, always-on-a-diet friend for dinner. Skinny Gal orders the largest and fattest piece of red meat out there, while Diet Gal sticks to her plain salad with dressing on the side. And after finishing the meal and despite knowing how self-conscious her friend is about her looks, Skinny Gal states, “G*d, I feel like a cow!” [caption id="attachment_2003" align="alignleft" width="170" caption="Heh. An ancient depiction of "Open Mouth, Insert Foot""][/caption] And then there’s this scenario. It involves either a well-meaning family member or an “infrequently seen” friend. This person proceeds to make the mistake of reach out for the belly. That action is closely followed by the statement, “Wow. You’ve gained weight! Are you pregnant?” Yeah, that one’s definitely not my favorite. I’ve had many of those “thought you were pregnant” moments over the past 13 years of marriage. It doesn’t help that I definitely gained a bit of weight since being married. Nor does it help that I had taken all those meds during those active baby-making “science project” years. And my latest excuse is that I’ve been totally stress-eating since my latest work issues began in June. But my weight issues aren’t the basis of this latest rambling. Nor is it about feeling humiliated, whether intentional or not. Rather this post is about feeling once again, as if I’ve been left behind. You see, today I read one of my HS friend’s FB statuses, indicating that her 9-yr old daughter would be going away to overnight camp for the first time this week. And I thought about the strange combination of pride and sadness she probably felt letting her “baby bird” fly away from the nest for a bit; even if it was for no more than two days. And this is probably what started the chain of events and line of thinking leading up to this post. While I love FB, there are some days where I just want to bury my head in the sand and forget that such an addicting social-networking site ever existed. It has been a wonderful tool for me to catch up with those friends from my “school days.” It has done wonders with keeping in touch with Dr. Bro and Dr. SIL as well as any of my cousins who keep a FB accounts. Then there are those aspects of FB that make it appear as if I’ve literally been left behind. And today is definitely one of those days. Especially when it comes to seeing friends post pictures or videos of their children. It makes me want to post pictures as well; ones of my “supposed” children. And it makes me want to update my status (via Twitter, of course) with witty statements about what my imaginary kids are up to. It’s moments like that where I feel like I’ve been a “total slacker” in my life. Where I'm just not at the same point in life that my other friends are. That I'm kinda just "stuck" in the marriage phase of my life. Oh yes, I know realistically that what I’m feeling is pure crap. And I know that despite the fact that I don’t have children of my own, I’ve been pretty successful in my life in other ways. Yet, there’s this small nagging voice inside my head. It’s the voice that remarkably sounds like a hybrid of my parents and a third-grade version of myself. It’s the one that tells me that I can’t just be average; that I must strive to be the best in everything I do. That I should be a step (or a phase, in this case) ahead of where I'm currently at. That I should always be the one at the top of the class; ahead of all my classmates in everything I do. [caption id="attachment_2001" align="alignright" width="205" caption="Good thing my devil voice doesn't sound like Homer"][/caption] And that nagging is swiftly followed by the voice of that little red devil on my left shoulder; the one that says, “Face it, Em. You’re so far behind in what you’ve planned for yourself in life. You might as well give it up.” And it’s the same devil voice that tells me that, even if I do have kids now (whether it be my biological child or adopted child), I’d never be able to “catch up” to the rest of those parental peers in my age-group. It’s, quite frankly, the same voice that tells me I’m a failure for not even being able to pass a pregnancy test. (No multiple choice; just True or False ... ) It’s at those moments where we feel like I’ve been instructed to put on a “Poor Me” headband and head to the back of the class. Because, given my conscience lately, Sr. Barbara would have told me to.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* No wonder I have self-esteem issues to this day. ** No thanks in part to my brother, The Dork. *** But when there are reality TV shows out there that foster such behavior, it’s amazing that the whole world isn’t all about the backstabbing and talking-behind-the-back

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Emily — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 02:54:27 +0000

If The Shoe Fits ...

Emily — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 02:57:49 +0000

Whew. What a month. And while Autumn is my absolute favorite time of the year, I am happy to say that I'm glad last month went by fast. Even though I didn't even get to make a run to the cider mill and get my freshly made donuts and cider. Or my once-a-year Granny Smith caramel apple. Boo-hoo. I've been swamped with work lately that last Sunday I hadn't realized it was Daylight Savings "Fall Back" Time until 3:30 in the afternoon. While I typically relish the extra hour we get every year, I've never had the urge to say that I was glad to have the additional hour to get more things done. Never. Ever. Until this year anyway ... When I took the job as supervisor for this well-known health insurance company, I knew that I would be assigned to a high profile account. And I knew that I would be heavily involved in this employer group's yearly "Clinical Assessment" (read: audit). What that meant was that this high profile group would come and visit the lovely city of Chicago and sit in our department's "Medical Library" to listen to each of the RN Case Managers (my direct reports) present clinical cases to them. In which said employer group with their fancy-shmancy (read: expensive) RN Clinical Consultant would pick apart ... rake over analyze every little detail. Now, ordinarily I find opportunity in being part of such an audit. This gives us, as Case Managers, an idea of what we're doing right and what could be better. It also breaks things down to what "issues" may be business- (theirs or ours) related or system/process-related. All this in an effort to continue to deliver the best for the individual member (read: patient, customer). Of course with the economy in the pot today ... not to mention the huge elephant in the room called "Health Care Reform" ... this year's audit has been placed largely in the spotlight. God forbid the audit goes horribly and we "lose" the business! Not to mention the incredible pressure I put myself under. After all, this is my first really big project that will put me on center stage. And that I'd be under scrutiny from this employer group, as their previous dealings had been with my current manager. And trust me ... I knew that I had some pretty big shoes to fill. So yeah, this is what I've been largely working on for the past two months. I've had to prepare a list of over 1,000 cases to be randomly chosen by the group. I had to have my staff pick out one case of their choosing (in addition to the other 3-4 cases that were randomly picked by the group) and write up their presentation. I've had to "spiffy-up" each of their cases in the correct "format" requested by the employer group (Geesh, try reformatting months-worth of case stories into an APIE way of documentation!) Oh, and I had to work with each of them, one-to-one, with their delivery of their case presentations. And did I mention that I had little direction from my manager? You know, the one who has had all the previous experience with these audits? In reality, I was okay with it though. As tough as it had been getting everything prepared for the audit with little support, I relished that I was able to do things almost all in the way that I wanted to. Because as with other prior experiences with said boss, I felt that if I had gone to her with just a simple question ... then she would have completely taken over this project. And I wanted to prove to her (and yes, to myself) that I could handle the audit prep on my own. Oh, there were some bumps with my boss along the way ... like, once again, going over me and directing MY nurses to complete one of their cases prior to the deadline I had set (and she had approved). Or by insisting we have a PRE-mock audit with her before the "official" mock audit; which would obviously be done before the real audit*. But overall, I'm glad I worked my A$$ off just to prove to her that I could do something without little assistance. Maybe (just maybe) then she'll be able to relinquish some of the reins** she feels she needs to hold onto with her former team. SO ... after all this, you might be asking how the "Clinical Assessment" went. I am happy to report that the employer group's visit was successful. They were here this past Tuesday and Wednesday and, while they pointed out some processes that need to be revisited or re-tweaked, they were things that I was already aware of. And my staff? They were absolutely incredible. I felt like such a proud Mom***, as I sat there watching them answer every question that was thrown at them with such confidence and ease. It was a long two days, but in the end I came out of it mentally and physically exhausted, yet incredibly satisfied. But the most uplifting part of it all? As I shook the hand of the RN Clinical Consultant and thanked her for her input and suggestion, she said to me "You had some big shoes to fill." "I know," I told her, while still shaking her hand. "Those shoes are incredibly large and I hope that I can fill them to the best of my abilities." "No," she corrected me. "I said you had big shoes to fill. And you've filled them quite well." Wow, was all I could think. So it will be those words that I'll be living off of for the next few months ... nay, years ... as I continue to forge forward in this multi-faceted demanding job. Wish me luck!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

*Yeah ... I didn't get it either. But I figured this was her way of gaining a little "access" and/or control into my whole preparation. So I granted her that much. Give a little, take a little! **Perhaps she can learn to untie those "Apron Strings"? Tee-hee! ***Hmm ... I'm finding the irony in the fact that I'm feeling "Mom"-ish and yet have no real children.

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Emily — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 05:15:40 +0000

Cutting The Strings

Emily — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 05:22:04 +0000

This post has been a long time in coming. Truthfully, this should have been written a few months ago. However, between preparations for the audit at work and having just recently had the conversation with Hubby a week ago, the timing just didn't seem right. A year ago earlier this month, I was in Chicago interviewing for the position that I now hold. The very same one that has given me much stress and headaches over the past 11 months. The same one that has made me realize exactly how strong I really can be ... without the hormonal emotions getting in the way. I specifically mention the "hormonal emotions" for a reason. That's because when I look back during those active "baby-trying" years , I can now see how much strength I needed in order to get me through that period. Except I can honestly say that I never feel that I was strong at all during that time period. I felt as I was living day-to-day, hoping that somehow I would catch a break from all the "hard work" I was putting into starting my family. Whereas with the "challenges" I faced this past year ... well, they didn't feel like a day-to-day struggle. There was always an end in site for each new challenge I faced. From the very beginning of "Operation: Move to Chicago," there was a goal in mind that was achievable:

Find an apartment; check.
Start new job; check.
Survive living alone in new city for three months with seeing Hubby only on the weekends; check.
Get through six months at new job without being fired from "My way or the highway" boss; check.
Live through high profile work audit with dignity intact; check.

Everything I faced since moving here was (relatively) successful; with that bright light guiding me to the end of a dark tunnel. Unfortunately that same bright light was never there when facing the darkness that is infertility. And, in my case, definitely not successful ... at least in the way that I defined success.

********

There's this memory I have from back in my high school years. It's back when Disney began to start re-releasing classic movies on VHS tapes. The idea was so that a person could own these movies before they were put back into the "vault" of classic Disney animation.

My mother totally bought into that smart marketing ploy. In fact, she bought many videos including The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and ... if I can recall, Sleeping Beauty. AND she wouldn't even open them; storing them away in her dresser, in her own personal "vault." "Not fair," I remember telling her. Especially since I loved Ariel and Belle. "Couldn't we just open them up and watch them once?" "No," she had told me. She was saving them for her future grandchildren. So that she can sit down and watch these movies with them, whenever they came over to visit. This memory, as inconsequential as it may seem to others, is one that cuts me incredibly deep. It's a reminder of how I've failed to fulfill my parents' dream of becoming grandparents. Never mind that I already felt horribly bad that my body was not able to give my husband a child of his own. This specific memory reminds me that I've probably disappointed my parents as well. That I haven't been able to give them the grandchildren that they've always wanted.

********

I'll be honest that one of the many reasons Hubby & I moved to Chicago was start fresh. There had been way too much emotional Infertility baggage that I had been carrying around for years. And although I had been working very hard at purging that baggage, I could never fully put it away ... at least into a place within me that could make things manageable.

So putting some physical distance between myself and the baggage (which held waaay too many memories of hurt and disappointment), as well as the physical location where most of these memories occurred, was something I felt I needed to do. And it's with the blessing of my very supportive husband that we found ourselves moving out-of-state; away from the only "home" I had ever known. All this is in effort to be exposed to new people and to be open to new challenges. To have a fresh outlook on where Hubby & I stand in our quest to have a family.

********

Next October will be my 20th High School Reunion. Part of me is interested in seeing where everyone is at in this stage of life; to see how far they've come since we were teenagers. Then there's the rebel in me that thinks, "Pshaw ... HS Reunions are so 'Peggy Sue Got Married'! We must break this cycle at once!"

And then there's the Infertile (with a capital "I") in me. The one with no children. The one with nothing exciting to show for my life over the past 20 years, other than a degree (only undergrad, to boot!) and a good job. I've no kids to brag about; I've no incredible 3,000 square foot house to talk about. All I have is a decent walk-up apartment in the city and fur children that shed hair all over the place, including my clothes. At least I have an incredible husband who I can show off and brag about. As it is, I'm still debating on whether I want to go or not. However, what I do know is that a bunch of the HS friends that I still keep in touch with, will be planning a more low-key get-together some time next year. That should, at the very least, be a "milestone" something to look forward to next year.

********

I've had the pleasure of (finally) seeing my new family physician, not once but twice in the past few months. One was the quick one-over, "Hi, nice to meet you" -type of visit. The second was my yearly female parts check-up.

Both times my physician asked me if I was interested in pursuing further treatment for my infertility. And both times, I told my physician I still wasn't ready to make that decision. I was in the midst of still adjusting to my new job in a new city.

And I needed more time to separate want vs. need, hope for the future vs. more disappointment, treatment vs. acceptance.

Let me say it's extremely strange to go from living in one State where In vitro Fertilization (IVF) is not covered, to currently living in a State where it now is. To now have that option to choose what course of treatment that Hubby & I would like to pursue in creating our family. For those that don't know, infertility treatments are sometimes not covered by health insurance in certain States. There may be some aspects of treatments that are covered (such as the work-up and, at times, the medications), but for the most part infertility treatments -- and specifically IVF is not. The Infertile RN in me thinks it's utterly cruel to allow coverage for the work-up of the infertility diagnosis and then turn around and not cover the treatment for it. Even though IVF is not a "guarantee" that one would be successful in starting a family, there's still that little bit of chance that it becomes successful in "curing" that person's infertility. I relate it to treatment for cancer. Much like chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy is considered standard treatment for a person with such a condition ... it's never a "100% guarantee" that the cancer would be "cured" or go into remission. It's that double-standard in treatment of a health condition that bothers me the most about the lack of coverage in IVF treatments. Because, quite frankly ... the RN Case Manager in me (the one who works for a health insurance company) strongly believes that people have the right to choose how they would like to pursue treatment and have the Health Insurance that I pay for assist in coverage for that treatment.

********

This January, it will be a year since I've lived in Chicago. And April will mark the official date that Hubby & I will have lived together in this bright new city (well, new to us anyway).

During this past year, Hubby & I have had a chance to open our hearts and minds to different possibilities. We've had the opportunity to accept where we're at when it came to reassessing our options in creating our family. We've talked about IVF and the impact it may have emotionally for me ... Both if it wasn't successful and if it actually was. But even though we know the option of IVF is available to us in the fine State of Illinois, both of us have decided not to pursue that route. We've also had the opportunity to discuss adoption more in depth. To decide if this was the right path for us to take. And the more we thought about it, the more we decided that this was also something we wouldn't be a 100% comfortable with. (Okay, I admit it. It's me. I'm the one who fears that I'll just end up being disappointed again. And I fear that I'd get stuck down that rabbit hole of darkness once again.) So what does this all mean? Well, readers. It means that Hubby & I have accepted that having children at this moment is not in our best interest. It means, that we have accepted the fact that we may never have children. (Okay, maybe it's more like *I* accepted this fact, because Hubby was light years ahead of me in this thought.) This means that we've consciously and deliberately have made the choice to begin living life child-free.

********

It's taken me more than 12 years, but I think I've finally reached some closure in my infertility journey. Yet even as one door has closed in my life, I'm still learning to live with the reality of this decision. My infertility is no longer a daily struggle, but that doesn't mean I don't have those "moments." And those "moments" are the reason I choose to continue writing on this blog. Except now, instead of this blog being about the longing to have a children, it will be about trying to let go of this longing. About learning to look forward to my new future with Hubby. The new journey we'll be taking together. It's about trying to break free from these Apron Strings.

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Emily — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 02:43:10 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 03:12:08 +0000

Scent of a Woman

Emily — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 03:18:20 +0000

This morning as I was walking our adorable dog, I caught the scent of lilacs. It was a strange thing, as like most people, I associate lilacs with spring time.

Again, this morning at work, the same scent whiffed through the air. Same fragrance of lilacs … except now I had this image in my mind of the purple lilac bush in the backyard of my childhood home.

Despite the fact that I was born and raised Catholic and went to 12 years of Catholic school, I don’t consider myself a very “good” Catholic. However, I do consider myself a relatively spiritual person. I believe that there is a higher being out there that watches over me; a person who is there to observe my thoughts and actions, but who is also nonjudgmental with the path in life I decide to take. I choose to believe this because I need to know that there is someone out there (besides my husband) who supports me when I need it most. I don’t demand this higher being to prove His/Her existence; He/She wouldn’t need to say one word to provide further proof. All the faith I need is that I feel that unconditional love and support. I need to know that there is some positive “force” in my life. After experiencing the aroma of lilacs for the second time in a matter of hours, I realized what … or rather who was infiltrating my senses. This is when my spirituality comes into play; my belief that there is life outside of this existence. Perhaps it’s based on previous experiences. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve always had an open mind to these types of things. This morning, I believe my Grandma Rose came to visit me. Grandma Rose loved the color purple. I could never imagine her wearing anything else but all shades of purple. Which is why, despite her namesake flower, I have always associated the lilac bush in my parent’s backyard with her. So when the smell of lilacs overcame me for the second time today, I just knew that it was Grandma reminding me that she was looking over me; acknowledging that I had finally made the decision to live child-free with my Hubby. It’s as if she was letting me know that, even though I always wanted to have a house full of children like her (I have/had 10 aunts and uncles from her alone!), it was okay that I didn’t achieve that dream.

********

I can’t believe the outpouring of love and support I received on my blog after publishing the previous post. Every comment was a reminder to me of exactly why I continue to write … of why I express many of my most private thoughts and feelings to the public. It’s amazing how total strangers (well, not all of you are strangers anymore …) can provide that unconditional love and support I’ve needed during the most difficult times in my life. These “strangers” have literally taken me from feeling incredibly isolated with no one (but Hubby, of course) to turn to … to feeling as if I’m in a room full of Adoption, Pregnancy Loss and Infertility (ALI) gals. It’s as if these “strangers” become that positive force I’ve learned to turn to when, at times, I felt paralyzed in taking a step forward. But despite the incredible love and support I’ve received from the ALI community and from close friends alike, I still can’t seem to shake off some of the sadness that comes with this decision. Part of me thinks that, despite the fact that we’ve been living without children for years, the reality of saying that we’re living child-free is so … FINAL. Even though Hubby & I both know that it could change at any moment.* Mostly, I think it’s because I’m searching for the “approval” of those other important people in my life; those family members who may have looked to us to continue the family lineage and those traditions that both our families hold dear. I wonder how they feel about this decision. And if, by making this choice I’ve disappointed them in some way, shape or form. Logically, I know it shouldn’t matter what they think. I know that this is the right decision for Hubby & I at this time. It has allowed us to open our hearts and minds to new adventures in life. Emotionally? Well, that’s a different story. But this morning’s visit from Grandma Rose and all the warmth and love I’ve received over these past few days … Well it’s those positive things I should continue to focus on. Because, somehow I know I’ll need to depend on that energy on those days … those moments I need it the most.

Thank you again, from the bottom of my heart, for every kind word and encouragement.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

[caption id="attachment_2032" align="aligncenter" width="468" caption="My Grandma Rose with all her kids. Guess which one is my Mom?"][/caption]

* Meaning that we’re not closed to the idea of having children; but if the right opportunity should come along …

http://www.flickr.com/photos/aricee/

Emily — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 03:57:39 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 05:47:12 +0000

Storm Clouds and Strength

Emily — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 05:53:29 +0000

Hello Blogland. It's been awhile. And while I haven't written much more than the quarterly (and now annually) performance evals for my staff as well as politically correct email after email ... It's not like I didn't have the need or desire to write. [caption id="attachment_2055" align="alignleft" width="301" caption="Storm Clouds gathering at the Mayan Ruins of Tulum"][/caption] Like how, for the first time in, oh ... I don't know, 14 years, I wasn't too wrapped up on how much the holiday season was about having a child in which to bestow such happiness and wonderment on. While part of the reason was because I was so busy between work and traveling back and forth from Detroit ... I think it was honestly because I didn't feel the need to separate myself from the friends and family with kids as I have in the past. It was rather ... liberating, may I say. Or how a year ago earlier this month, I celebrated my 1-yr work anniversary at my current place of employment. This means, of course, that it's officially been a year since I've moved to Chicago. That Sunday before my "anniversary," Hubby and I spend the morning in bed. And as we lay there, all nice and snuggly underneath four layers of blankets, we recalled what it was like for us a year ago that day; how I watched him from our second story apartment window drive away from me back to our home in Michigan, where he would live until April. [caption id="attachment_2057" align="alignright" width="305" caption="And so it begins to rain on the coast of the Caribbean Sea"][/caption] Hubby & I hugged a little tighter after that brief memory; and rightly so, as I recall feeling as if my heart had broken into a zillion pieces. Especially since we'd only see each other on the weekends after that. But Thank G*d for modern technology; specifically, video iChat, which allowed me to literally fall asleep "next" to him ... even though we were separated by hundreds of miles of roads and, well, a gazillion miles worth of cable for such an internet connection. Looking back on that first day of work last year, I still can't believe how I managed to get through it without falling apart. New city, new job, new place of living ... oh, and no car, too. Any one of those things could be considered a major stressor in life, but then throw in the fact that Hubby wasn't physically there to hold my hand through it? Yeah, like I said ... amazing I made it through a whole day, let alone three whole months before we were "living" under the same roof again. It's amazing how much one could draw strength at times when it's needed most. Early 2009 was definitely one of those times. What I can't understand is how strength can come in many different forms; especially at times when it seems as if things are the bleakest. [caption id="attachment_2056" align="alignleft" width="305" caption="What? There's a beach down there?!"][/caption] Last year, I drew strength from knowing that I was going to do everything possible to make this "new life" successful. I had to make it work; simply because I knew the consequences of it not working would be to move back to Michigan. Not that I wouldn't do it (or be unhappy about it) if things came to that ... I just wanted to try my best so that I could gain some momentum on success in my life. So what or where did I draw strength from during my lowest point in my IF journey? Good question. Those days I honestly don't know how I put one foot in front of the other. Because even though I tried my "best" to be successful in creating a family ... well, we all know the end results. And how does one find strength from inside when the end result would never be 100% clear? Where the "consequences" of not being successful were just as, if not deeper and darker than the pain felt at the very beginning of the IF journey? The short answer is that I don't know. All I know is that, even though my IF journey ended with living child-free, I somehow managed to find a small glimmer of light, a slight silver lining around the edges of the storm clouds of infertility. And I managed to find some strength to find my way out of the darkness. And I hope that any other IF-ers that read this knows that, even in its worse days, somehow that strength is buried deep inside; it's just a matter of remembering to use it. [caption id="attachment_2058" align="aligncenter" width="355" caption="What the H*ll, I'm already wet!!"][/caption]

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Emily — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 16:52:17 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 16:54:03 +0000

Embracing Me

Emily — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 04:01:37 +0000

There's this song by the Velvet Underground that seems to always unleash this feeling of nostalgia within me. Perhaps it's because I "discovered" this song during my freshman year in high school (thanks to my BFF at that time who was also fellow music afficianado). Or perhaps it's because the song has this uniquely haunting music box melody to it. Regardless, "Sunday Morning" was one of those songs I recall rewinding and replaying over and over again on my Walkman. [caption id="attachment_2071" align="alignright" width="307" caption="Woulda made for a cool album cover, eh? :-P"][/caption] I don't know if I've ever mentioned it before on my blog, but my high school BFF and I had aspirations of becoming incredibly large rock stars. (Yes, laugh all you want ... but admit it, that thought probably crossed your minds at one point during your high school existence!) Forget that I wasn't the best of musicians around ... I just wanted to be part of something creative. In any case, my BFF and I came up with this incredible idea to form a band. Armed with many years of piano lessons behind us, we sought to find other people that might be interested in creating the same type of music that we liked. We didn't have to go very far to find a few people. One person in particular (we'll call him S), ended up becoming a pretty good friend of ours*. And it's also because of him that we found other like-minded musicians. Although we never went further than playing "cover songs" of other '80's alternative bands, we spent a lot of time at each others' houses pretending to have "band practice." And it's during one of those sessions that I learned to play "Sunday Morning." The other night, I had the opportunity to "chat" with S on Facebook. We've chatted a couple times before in the past, but nothing other than "Wotcha been up to?" This chat came at a really really nice time, though. One that had me contemplating, once again, what my life was going to be like sans children. I won't lie. That thought has been weighing heavily on my mind lately. Sure, I've officially made the decision to live child-free (finally). Sure, I know that this decision has lifted a great weight off of my shoulders. Truth is, I know that right now my future is limitless. The thing is, I've always envisioned my adult life surrounded with kids. Lots of them. And the Filipina in me, who always put family first, strongly supported that vision. Being a mother and raising children was going to define who I was. I say this as an absolute because, although I like my career, I'm not passionate about it. Being a mother ... it would have been my life's passion. It would have been the pinnacle of my existence. [caption id="attachment_2072" align="alignleft" width="201" caption="What does my fortune hold?"][/caption] With the decision to live child-free, I feel I should be finding a new reason for existing. I have this urge to find out what I really should be doing with my life. While I know I should be embracing this opportunity to wipe the proverbial slate clean, I must admit that I'm slightly overwhelmed. I could continue with my career path and try to remain successful with each new opportunity ... but since I already know I'm not passionate about it, would I be happy later in life? At the very least (knock on wood), I know that this future will provide me with the income that Hubby & I need to survive. I could go back to school and try my hand at something different; forge a new career path into something I know I'd enjoy. But does this guarantee passion? Does it guarantee success? Or I could go back to that high school dream of becoming an incredibly huge Rock Star. I've always wanted to be a kick-a$$ bass player, a-la-Kim Deal. I told some of this to S while chatting the other day. And although he did suggest I go out and by a bass guitar right away, he did offer me up one piece of advice. In his always calm and gentle manner, he told me that what I do in life (whether it involves being a mother or not ) shouldn't dictate who I am. I shouldn't fight against who I am. He said, "Let Emily be Emily." So that's what I'm going to try to do for now. I'm going to let me be me. And maybe, just maybe, my heart and mind will be open enough to find a new passion in life ... a new reason for my existence.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YuM3SteeAgY]

* Ironically, he also ended up being my Jr Prom date, while future-Hubby was my HS BFF's date. How funny is that?

Staying Young

Emily — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 04:26:25 +0000

Have you every followed a celebrity to the point of obsession? I readily admit that I have. And sad to say, that despite the fact that this celebrity is no longer with us in this world, I still find myself obsessed. Funny, as I thought that perhaps the "Groupie" in me was dead. Apparently not. Today, the subject of my obsession would have turned 50 years old. And if Michael Hutchence were still alive, I'm sure I would have still had the hots for him.* Sadly, Michael only lived to the age that I currently am today. That, in itself, is a strange thought. Oh, if we could both "Stay Young" ... just like the lyrics say.

[vodpod id=Video.1511303&w=425&h=350&fv=]

Regardless of what you may have thought of Michael Hutchence in the years that he lived (or even in the aftermath of his life), no one can deny that he was a charismatic, talented man. And the world is just a little bit dimmer without him. But before I close this post, help celebrate Michael's 50th birthday and help Haiti by downloading "Don't Change" off of iTunes. Thanks to the rest of the band, all proceeds from this download are being donated to the Red Cross' relief efforts in Haiti.

Happy 50th Birthday, Hutch!

[caption id="attachment_2084" align="aligncenter" width="344" caption="© 1986 ApronStringsEmily (ask permission for use)"][/caption] * I mean seriously. Even after so many years, I still shiver whenever I hear him whisper, "Step over here" at the beginning of "Need You Tonight."

copyright_ApronStringsEm_AskPermission

Emily — Fri, 22 Jan 2010 04:40:29 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 00:40:26 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 00:45:44 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 05:26:40 +0000

Patriotic and PO'd

Emily — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 05:33:09 +0000

I am so annoyed. And the thing is, I should know better. It's not like I haven't been out and about social-networking for years; so I can't use the excuse that I'm ignorant to internet-iquette. Except ... well, except there are certain things in life that I guess I consider my moral compass in life. And one of them (amongst many others) has always been the ability that we've been given as human beings to make our own choices in life; to reason. So when I start seeing Tweets or Facebook statuses that are intended to show "pride" or elicit some sort of dark humor, but end up sounding more offensive than anything ... well, that just makes think, "What the H*LL were you thinking?" In other words, did someone I *know* consciously make that decision to post something that might ... just might be offensive to other people? Don't get me wrong ... I'm the first one to admit that I've done things just as stupid as what I'm complaining about. I've even been called out on the carpet for such stupid actions as well. While it's not the most pleasant feeling in the world, it has taught me the lesson to think what I'm saying before I speak ... er, I mean type. So what exactly am I PO'd about? Well, this is the status that started it all. One post that says ...

"WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA Press 1 for English. Press 2 to disconnect until you learn to speak English. And remember only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you, JESUS CHRIST and the AMERICAN SOLIDER. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom. If you agree and have the guts ... copy and paste in your status!"

Yeah. I *personally* felt the sting of that one. On many levels. First there's the whole "You're in America, so you should only be speaking English." Well I hate to burst the bubble here, but I believe that the US is considered a MELTING POT of different nations. You know, a mixture of people from different nations that have come to this nation in order to improve the quality of their lives and their families' lives? My parents were one of those people. Both came from the Philippines in search of a better life for themselves; a place where they could best make use of their education and talents and share it with the rest of the people in what has become their new "home." While my Mom spoke fluent English (a primary language taught in Catholic school in the Philippines), my Dad learned it as a second language. And while I can't *completely* understand what it's like to learn English as a second language, I can certainly empathize ... especially since I'm "once-removed" from being born and raised outside the US. And then there's the part about having only two defining forces that have ever offered to die for me. I make no bones that I'm Christian; or more specifically, Catholic. I also fully admit that I'm not exactly a "practicing" Catholic; meaning that (much to my Mom's chagrin) I don't attend mass weekly. But that doesn't mean that I don't believe in God or Christ. Nor does it mean that I don't hold myself to the basic Golden Rule, of which Christianity (and all other religions) is based. In reality, I believe in the spirituality of Catholicism. I believe that there is GOOD in the world and that if your actions reflect what you believe in your heart to be good ... then that goodness will return to you. But on the flipside, I do believe that BAD exist much in the same way. You reap what you sow. By living *my* life under the premise that I should do unto others as I would want done unto myself ... well, that's one of the reasons I *stop and think* about what I say or do before I act upon them. Would what I do hurt anyone else? What are the consequences of what I'm about to do? Yeah ... so to sprout the whole "Christ died for me" lecture in that Facebook status? Gimme a break. That is *NOT* a very "Christian" thing to do. And trust me ... I won't go into the whole "American Soldier" bit; other than to say that I am patriotic enough to know that these soldiers have given up their "freedom" to keep America safe and *FREE*. And I'm also patriotic enough to know that it was a choice that they made. 'Nuff said. So why am I still riled up even though that Facebook status is now more than a week old? Well, it's because of this status that was just posted on Monday:

"Shame on you America: the only country where we have homeless without shelter, children going to bed without eating, elderly going without needed meds, and mentally ill without treatment - yet we have a benefit for the people of Haiti on 12 TV stations. 99% of people won't have the guts to copy and repost this."

Uh huh. Seriously. Okay I get that, as a nation, we have homeless people and starving children and a health care system that's broken for our elderly population / mentally ill population. But there is a reason why we are considered a wealthy country. And when I mean "wealth," I'm not strictly speaking about *FINANCIAL* wealth. I'm talking about a nation where we have many of the smartest, most progressive minds in the world. I'm talking about a country that shows their "wealth" by giving *every* individuals the opportunity ... the choice, if you will ... to improve themselves. Do you think socialist countries afford every person that ability to better themselves? To move up in their station in life? More importantly, do you think that THIRD WORLD countries, like the Philippines or Haiti, are able to provide those same opportunities to every citizen? This is when America shines the most; when we provide *our* resources and services to countries that have been devastated by natural disasters. This is when we show exactly how generous a country we can be. These moments ... they are the moments when the words on our Statue of Liberty shine the brightest:

"Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

As I wrap up this long and rambling politically charged post ... let me just remind everyone of one simple fact. Unless we are 100% Native American ... we are all "immigrants" to this land. The same soil that has provided our forefathers (and now ourselves) with the ability to forge a new future; the land of opportunity ... the land of CHOICES. So just like our parents / grandparents / great-grandparents, etc who chose to come to the land of freedom (and who may have *NOT* known how to speak English) ... choose your destiny (and your words/actions) wisely.

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Emily — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 04:15:22 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 04:18:25 +0000

Em on Em

Emily — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 04:21:52 +0000

So I was sitting here watching the State of the Union speech, and I'm found myself entranced in watching this speech unfold. Oh don't worry ... after yesterday's long rambling political soapbox I was on, I am not going to debate about how *I* feel the State of the Union is.

No; really I'm more entranced on how Obama delivered his speech; the way he appeared open, warm and humble ... the way he infused some humor into the seriousness of each issue he discussed. While I'm sure it's because he has a team of speech writers that come up with the most appropriate phrases to elicit the most appropriate responses ... I also think that part of speech delivery is about personality.

**********

I was telling Hubby today that there are some days that I don't feel like I belong in the high profile supervisor position I'm in here in Chicago. And I say that because, anybody that really knows me, knows that I like to inject humor into any situation. The thought is that if I have to do something that I might think is "unpleasant," I might as well make light of a difficult situation and find humor in it. The thing is, I don't think there are many people I work with that share my same view. And while I know that working for a Health Insurance company in the midst of Health Care Reform isn't exactly a walk in the park, I still believe that there's a need to break out of such seriousness and have a little fun.

Maybe it's just the office I'm in, because at the very least ... I've managed to get the employer group I work closely with to laugh at some of my off-beat humor. That should count for something, right?!

**********

After writing yesterday's post ... I realized that there are quite a few of my Facebook friends that I knew only from grade school / junior high. With that said, these friends probably have this image in their mind of the sweet little "Oriental" girl in their class. The one that always tried her best not to rock the waves. (Even then, I was conscious about trying to keep the peace ...) These same friends probably don't know the "Emily" who began to shape her beliefs and values in high school. And who further developed them in college and post-college. The same "Emily" who began to voice her opinions and ideals without holding back. But they also probably haven't met the "Adult Emily." The one who recognizes that respect for others opinions and ideals is just as important as being able to be heard about my own beliefs.

**********

I wonder how strange it is/was for these friends to see how much I've changed? Or how strange it must be for the people in my department to see that I'm very much like a "mullet" ( ... you know, business in the front and party in the back ... )**?

The more I reflect on these two very different situations, the more I realize that I'm really writing about who *I* am as a person ... who I've grown up to be. And as this fellow blogger (who I've just discovered is traveling down a similar path) responded on this older post, I'm discovering that I kinda like who I am.

** Talk about humor ... a HS friend said that her son described skorts as a "mullet for your butt ... skirt in front and shorts in back"!! I could not stop laughing after I heard that one!

February Ties

Emily — Tue, 02 Feb 2010 02:14:59 +0000

Yep. I'm going to try this NaBloPoMo thingy again. After all, I was pretty successful in November of 2008; and seeing that I have been ... ahem ... lacking in writing posts lately, I figured this would be a good way to jump start my creative juices again. And why not? February is a short month. Good month to try to post an entry a day for the entire month. For those of you that aren't aware, NaBloPoMo is essentially a group of people who have committed to updating their blogs once a day for an entire month. November tends to be the "big month" to attempt this feat, but anyone can try to post every day for an entire month at the beginning of each month. Oh, and each month tends to focus around a central theme. This month's theme is "Ties." Yeah ... pretty vague. But I suppose that's a good thing; seeing that I can find a variety of different meanings for "Ties." So stick around to see what creative things I can write about "Ties." Post #1 done. Twenty-seven more to go ...

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Emily — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 02:59:22 +0000

My Favorite "Tie"

Emily — Wed, 03 Feb 2010 03:02:38 +0000

Day two of NaBloPoMo; and the theme for the month is "Ties." So what will I talk about today? Hmmm ... How about my favorite "Tie"? And yes, that would be Hubby. For those of you that know me IRL, the fact that Hubby is my #1 "Tie" is a double-entendre. Not only is he my favorite thing to keep "tied" to, but well ... y'all IRL-ers know *exactly* what I mean. Tee-hee! I mean, seriously, Hubby is the Tie that I refer to when I think about wanting to be tied to something ... er, rather some *one*. It's one thing to "Tie the knot" with the love of my life ... it's a completely different thing to want to spend most of my waking hours with him. Simply put, Hubby is my best friend. And I wouldn't want to be tied up ... er, tied down by anyone else.

[caption id="attachment_2116" align="aligncenter" width="406" caption="Wouldn't want Hubby to "Lego" of me ... "][/caption]

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Emily — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 02:25:14 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 02:36:31 +0000

Common Threads

Emily — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 02:41:56 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2127" align="alignright" width="201" caption="Not quite the "suprised" look I was looking for in my batch of pics ..."][/caption] Wow. Oh, wow! I woke up to a great suprise this morning. Well, okay ... technically I was at work where I should have been updating all my staff's databases for 2010* ... but yeah. Instead I was tweaking some stuff on my blog. Which, by the way. Like the new look? I figured it was time to shake it up a little, as it's been about two years since I've changed my look. (Really, I'd love to do my own little design ... but yeah, that would mean the cheapskate in me would have to shell out moolah.) ANYHOO ... As I was saying, I was on my blog do some admin stuff when I noticed a particular person's Mel website URL kept popping up on my "Referrers" section. So imagine my suprise when I found out some WONDERFUL person wrote a little ditty about how much my blog inspires them. Wow. That just totally blew me away. I feel like I should be standing up behind the magic mike stand (you know, the one that disappears once the person is done speaking?) to thank the entire blogoverse for allowing me to write as freely as I do. And specifically to thank everyone for actually reading my words. Oh, and did I mention this was all done anonymously ?! So ... seriously, *THANK YOU* to whomever wrote such beautiful words about me. You honestly don't know how much it means to me ... [caption id="attachment_1862" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="The "Stirrups Queen" herself (with the Tiara) along with me, Io and Aunt Becky (left to right) at BlogHer 2009"][/caption] Anyway, for those of you that aren't familiar with Mel from Stirrup Queens ... she is one of the ALI (Adoption, Loss and Infertility) community's biggest chieftans. She is *the* person who has managed to organize the lot of us ALI bloggers under one roof ... and she's typically the one who puts the "shout out" to all of us when one of us in need of good support. That's why it's perfect that she used to blog under the name "The Town Criers." Okay ... so yeah, getting sidetracked here again. But I thought it's very important for those that may stumble onto my site for a variety of reasons to know where to find a comprehensive list of resources for Adoption, Loss and Infertility. HOWEVER ... I *am* finally getting to the point of this post and how it ties (ba-dum-dum) into February's NaBloPoMo theme. And it's this ... One of the reasons I started blogging about my Infertility journey was because I felt extremely alone. I felt that there was no one in my immediate surroundings that would even begin to understand what I was going through. Throw in the fact that I'm Filipino-American, where being a mother is seen as a woman's main purpose in life and where infertility or loss isn't ever talked about amongst even the closest of close family members ... well, yeah. Let's just say that, other than my Hubby, I didn't feel as if I had any support AT ALL. [caption id="attachment_2126" align="alignright" width="263" caption="Visiting Kara in La Jolla, Aug 2008"][/caption] But as I began to peruse through other IF-er's blogs, I began to feel less alone ... less isolated. And stumbling onto Mel's blogroll? Well yeah, I totally hit the jackpot. From there I managed to find a bunch of other bloggers that have since become closer to me in the blogoverse than some of my IRL friends. I'm sure that part of the reason is the vast internet space that separates us; which, in turn, allows us to be more open and honest to each other than those who might even live under the same roof. So how does this relate back to the whole "Ties" theme for NaBloPoMo? It's simple. Sometimes there is one common thread that ties one complete stranger to another one. In my world ... specifically my Blog World ... it's my infertility. And now, as I travel down a new path ... it's my decision to live with my husband child-free after infertility. Again ... thank you Miss (or Mister?) Anonymous for such lovely words. Sometimes it's those little suprises in life that keep propelling me forward ... especially in my quest to find the next grand adventure in my life.

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*What can I say? I'm a month behind? And isn't that the story of my life?!

Free Will & Fate

Emily — Thu, 04 Feb 2010 14:25:12 +0000

I admit it. I'm a TV junkie. Maybe it's because I spend most of the winter evenings indoors; especially since I'm still not used to it being so dark by 5 pm here in Chicago. Or it could also be that I find myself having little energy after a non-stop busy day at work. Either way, I tend to find myself in front of the proverbial "Boob Tube" by 7 pm each evening.* It's also a horrible thing ... this new fan-dangled device called a DVR. Because now, not only can I watch one TV series I keep up with, but I can record a second TV series that I also follow ... even though they air at the same time. I seriously think I need to stop picking up new TV series and focus only on the ones I watch right now ... at least until something else catches my eye. Tonight's line up involved recording "Fringe" on FOX while watching "Supernatural" on The CW. (Oh, did I forget to tell you I *love* watching "paranormal"-type of shows? I blame Mulder and Scully back in the early-to-late 90's.) For those that aren't familiar with "Supernatural," it's not a show about Carlos Santana's Grammy Award-winning album. It's a show about two brothers who basically "hunt" demons and other paranormal figures. The ongoing story arc is that these two brothers, as dedicated as they are to each other, are supposedly destined to destroy one another. Because, and follow along with me here, the younger brother's soul was "sold" to Lucifer (aka the Devil) before he (Sam) was even born. While the older brother (Dean), who has basically been raised to kill demons his entire life, is supposed to stop Lucifer from taking over Sam's body in order to take over the world. What gets even more tricky is that Dean has been told that he is supposed to allow the Archangel, Michael, to take over his body in order to stop Lucifer from destroying earth (aka the Apocolypse). Following me thus far? Okay, so moving on ... For those of you that are familiar with the Heaven and Hell, Angels and Demons lore (and no, I'm not talking about Dan Brown's novel here) ... you'd know that Lucifer is actually a "fallen" angel, and is actually the younger brother to Michael. So the whole "brother pitted against brother" aspect of this TV show's storyline is pretty darn cool (in my humble opinion, anyway). So in tonight's episode there is this whole bit about free will and destiny. While both Dean and Sam have been told it's in their "destiny" to start the Apocolypse, both brother's have promised that they would do everything in their power to allow that from happening. Sam would consciously avoid being lead into Lucifer's "temptations," while Dean would vehemently oppose Michael from taking a human form in his body.** But as Dean tells the Archangel Michael this, Michael tells him that there is no such thing as "Free Will" in life; that every little inconsequential decision and path in life will eventually lead him and his brother down the ultimate road that they've been fated to. I think the actual phrase Michael used was, "Free will is an illusion." [caption id="attachment_2138" align="alignleft" width="215" caption="Huh ... I kinda like this quote!"][/caption] Yet in spite of what Dean has been told, he still refuses to allow what "fate" has supposedly lined up for him; he still chooses to live his life on his own free will. Which ... of course, makes him a hero in my eyes. Well, at least in the TV show. Afterwards (as in right now, as I type) I reflected on the whole Free Will vs. Fate and how it pertains to my Infertility journey; how it pertains to my life. (And, yep! This is how this post relates to the whole "Ties" theme for NaBloPoMo.) The idea of Free Will vs. Fate specifically makes me question if my journey down the road of infertility been destined all along. And if that's the case, does this mean my decision (or "free will") to live child-free after IF is just an illusion? A farce? Not that I'm questioning the decision that Hubby & I have made ... I know that living child-free after IF is what's in our best interest at this very moment. No ... it's more the question of: "If that's the case, why did we put ourselves through H*ll and back just to end up where we were 'supposed' to end up?" I suppose I could always put forth the standard answer that our IF experience isn't about the "outcome" but rather what Hubby & I have learned about each other and ourselves along the way. And, to a point, I can be satisfied with that response. But then there's that part of me that wholly believes that life (and particularly American life) is all about the choices we make in life; the decision and subsequent consequences that follow. It's that same part of me that believes that every aspect in life is about consciously making the "choices" that we believe are the best ones for us at that given moment ... That, despite the times in which we all feel backed into a corner, we all have the ability as human beings to make choices. So maybe there isn't a black and white for Free Will & Fate. Maybe life is more of a hybrid of both. Perhaps life really is about the choices we make ... which, in turn, determines the ultimate outcome of our destiny. Either way, after watching this episode of "Supernatural," I suddenly have this incredible urge to pick up a "Choose Your Own Adventure" book ... What about you, Blogland? What are your thoughts about Free Will and Fate?

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* See? That's another thing I'm still not used to here in CST: Prime Time TV starting at 7 pm.

** Apparently angels must have your full consent in order to enter your body. Who knew?

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Emily — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 05:00:17 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 05:22:55 +0000

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Emily — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 05:24:30 +0000

Overtime Ties

Emily — Fri, 05 Feb 2010 14:45:20 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2148" align="alignright" width="237" caption="Keeping my TIES with Detroit ..."][/caption] Whew. What a day. What a work week! And the sad thing is that my work week ain't even over. Yes. That's right. I gots myself more work to do. And not just the normal "sign into our system from my laptop at home" -type of work. Nope ... Tomorrow I get to schlep my butt back downtown and work at my wonderful cubicle. And that's because the rest of my team is coming in for a little overtime work as well. Sigh ... Why does it always seem like the beginning of a business year is less about "new beginnings" and "fresh starts" and more like "leftovers" and "pilot projects"? Not like I already have a pretty full plate ... And it's only February! Can't *wait* to see what's in store for the rest of the year. So yes, work has been insanely busy. What I had thought would be a break from insanity after the big audit in November has only brought more insanity. Which has been slowly building since ... well, November. Okay, so maybe I'm just going into panic / anxiety mode right now. Maybe I need to go back to my happy place (which always seems to involve sand, beach, water and palm trees) and just relax. Yeah ... that's what I should do. Alrighty ... enough complaining. Let's talk about other things. Fun things. Like ... the conversation I had with a fellow supervisor today about sports. Yes, sports ... one of many things I love, like music and movies and books. It's been fun talking to this co-worker about sports; especially because of our love of our home teams; mine being Detroit and hers, Chicago. Her Bears and my hapless Lions. My "Bad Boys" Pistons to her "Michael Jordan" Bulls. My "Justin Verlander" Tigers and her "Mark Buehrle" White Sox. But today's discussion happened to be one of our all-time favorite sports: Hockey. And specifically Red Wings and Blackhawks Hockey. We had talked about how both our teams were doing (hers *really* good, ours ... not so good) and the connection that our hockey teams shared. [caption id="attachment_2147" align="alignleft" width="252" caption="Yep, that's the slap shot that Chelios taught me!"][/caption] One of them is obviously Chris Chelios; who had grown up in Chicago and played for the Blackhawks for many MANY years. Except ... as I chided with my co-worker ... Chelios never won a Stanley Cup Championship until he played for the Red Wings. This, of course, led to me sharing a dream I had of Chris Chelios a few years ago. One where I supposedly won a contest to participate in a Red Wings pre-game practice. And in that dream, I vividly recall having Chelios teach me how to set up a slap shot. Yeah ... only *I* would have these types of dreams; but at least my co-worker appreciated it! Anyway, the other connection that both the Red Wings and the Blackhawks shared were that they were part of "The Original Six" hockey teams of the NHL. From there, the conversation went on to the whole "expansion" of the NHL over the years, and how some of these "new" teams were difficult to remember. (Woulda thunk Columbus, OH or Nashville TN would ever have an NHL team?!) Or what we'd do if we ever moved out of a non-Hockey city. Specifically, we had talked about what Hubby & I would do if (when?) we move out west. Portland doesn't have a hockey team; and neither does Seattle. Would we go for the Ducks? Or would it be the Cannucks (out of Vancouver)? As it turns out, we both decided that we could never "give up" our home team; her Blackhawks and my Red Wings. That despite a move to a different city, we would always root for our home teams ... we'd still hold on to our TIES to our hometown sports. And I obviously do ... as it's been over a year since moving to Chicago and I still cheer ... not only my Red Wings ... but for all the other Detroit home teams as well.

[caption id="attachment_2146" align="aligncenter" width="510" caption="I always loved that Cameron Frye wore a Red Wings Jersey on "Ferris Bueller's Day Off""][/caption]

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Emily — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 05:26:27 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 05:41:06 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 05:42:37 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 02:45:39 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 02:48:39 +0000

Tie-ired

Emily — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 02:54:58 +0000

Eesh. I'm frickin' exhausted. I woke up this morning with the intent of going into work ahead of the rest of my staff, so I could pick up a big Box O'Joe and sweets from Dunkin' Donuts for all of us. Yeah, something about almost falling asleep during dinner last night should have clued me in. So when the alarm clock went off this morning, I could barely drag myself out of bed. But alas, I managed to do my usual morning routine for a working weekday ... for the sixth day in a row. Nope. Not bitter at all that I had to go in to work today. Not at all. Except ... Well, I really don't mind working at alternate hours. Truth be told, I do better and manage things better without a constant routine. I like working "alternative" hours instead of the typical 9-to-5, Monday thru Friday -type of day. I'd rather be doing my work on my own schedule; which could be on a Saturday. At 7 o'clock. In the evening. I'm just more productive that way. Which, when I reflect on my whole "baby-making" years and the minute-by-minute schedule we had to follow, is rather twisted. Especially since I was never ever able to "produce" anything (or rather any ONE) during those active IF treatment years. And now that I'm finally in a place to understand a little bit more of the real Emily, it all begins to make sense. Why I was *so* miserable during that time; why I felt I had little control over my body, let alone my life. And it's all because I absolutely HATE being TIED to a schedule. To a DESK. Hmm. Maybe I need to find another line of work ... professional beach comber perhaps?

Emily — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 19:30:46 +0000

Milestones

Emily — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 19:34:55 +0000

Yay! Made it through the first week of posting daily ... and now I need to get through 3 more weeks. I can do this ... I can do this ... Well, especially since I really should be spending this "lazy" Sunday afternoon actually doing those every day tasks I should be doing at work. Like getting some weekly case reviews together, and calculating ... oh, who cares ?! Point is, work's network decided that I spent enough time at my work desk yesterday that I'm not able to log in remotely today. At least one of us is looking out for my sanity ... So instead I get to spend the afternoon writing today's post earlier than 7 pm at night. And today's post is one that I should have written on Wednesday, but honestly knew I wouldn't have the time I really wanted to spend on writing it. So today's the day. Last Wednesday would have been my Grandma Rose's 100th birthday. And while I know Grandma is in a better place, I can't help but be just a little sad that she wasn't here to celebrate this milestone birthday with us. About a year and half ago, all of the Aunts and Uncles started plans to organize a "family reunion" in the Philippines, just in time for my Grandma's 100th birthday. By this time, I had already been in contact with quite a few of my cousins on Facebook. We had all talked about surprising her by making the trip out to the Philippines just to be there for this special birthday. But by Christmas time 2008, Grandma was beginning her decline and plans had been put on hold. And then Good Friday rolled around, and then Grandma was no longer her with us on Earth. [caption id="attachment_2167" align="alignnone" width="491" caption="Picture of my Grandma Rose from my cousin Reena ... Click on the picture to see her website!"][/caption]

I think about what this loss means to me and to my relationship with my Mom's side of the family. She was the string that TIED all of us Aunts and Uncles and cousins together; the common bond that we all shared. It would have been incredible to go to this "family reunion" and spend time with all my cousins and Aunts and Uncles. As it is now, most of my Mom's side of the family live on the East coast or are still back in the Philippines, so we rarely see them anyway. I just happened to get lucky by keeping in touch with a few of them on Facebook. But sometimes ... especially when you actually know the person IRL ... well, sometimes it's just much better to be able to spend "real" time with them.

Anyway, even though it will be a year this coming April, not a day goes by where I don't think of my Grandma Rose.

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On completely separate note ... I must say that today I've reached a milestone of my own. Just shy of three years, I've officially written my 300th post. Go me!!

195487.1020.A

Emily — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 01:22:54 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 01:42:03 +0000

Tears Like Diamonds

Emily — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 01:10:11 +0000

One of my favorite characters is back for the season finale of Heroes tonight. As I sit here watching the show, I can't help but think of how much Hiro reminds me of my Hubby. On the drive to work during a warm September morning last year, Hubby & I heard that song "Her Diamonds" on the radio. I had heard the song off of Rob Thomas' latest album many times last summer and was looking forward to seeing him in concert later in October. However there was something about hearing that song on that morning with the sun rising off Lake Michigan that had me truly listening to the lyrics. "Her Diamonds" talks about a woman who has reached her limits; who has gotten to the point where she doesn't know what else to do but cry. And because the song is written from a man's perspective, we get to hear how he deals with the emotions this woman is going through. It's amazing how certain songs can elicit the most visceral reactions. "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias is definitely one of those songs that will always be tied to the incredibly enduring love I have for my Hubby. And now, after finally understanding the lyrics behind his song, Rob Thomas' "Her Diamonds" will, too. That morning with Hubby sitting in the driver's seat, I couldn't help but squeeze the hand that held mine just a little tighter. Because those lyrics that Rob Thomas sings ... well, they're everything I've ever imagined my husband's thoughts and emotions were during the most difficult parts of our Infertility journey. And Honey? Just so you know, having you in my life holding my hand and heart ... that's all I can ever ask of you when my "diamonds" start falling down.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQM-vMUjlA0]

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Emily — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 04:09:19 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 21:05:56 +0000

Tied to the Apron

Emily — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 22:33:16 +0000

Lately, I've been thinking a lot of the title of my blog; mostly because of the whole NaBloPoMo theme of "Ties." After all, what other references are their to apron strings other than being "tied" to one or needing to be cut from one? But as I mentioned in this page, the purpose of my blog title is in reference to my favorite song and the relationship it had with my longing to have a family of my own. It's a song that referenced my need to let my "imaginary child" know that he/she would be happy wrapped in my apron strings. Then there's the whole use of this song in the movie soundtrack for the John Hughs film, "She's Having A Baby". It's a perfect song for this movie, especially as there is a small bit part in there about the struggles of infertility. Though what gets me about the use of "Apron Strings" in this movie is that they do not use the original version of the song from the album "Idlewild." While I understand making the song more "commercially" palatable, I do wish that they would have used the original lyrics to the song. You see, the movie version uses different lyrics on the first bridge of the song. The movie version lyrics bring on the tone of a woman waiting for the birth of her child. While the original lyrics ... well, those are the ones I can relate to most:

Your baby looks just like you when you were young And he looks at me with eyes that shine And I wish that he were mine Then I go home to my Apron strings; cold and lonely, For time brings thoughts that only Will be quiet when someone clings To my apron strings

These lyrics; they expressed (still express?) the feelings that I have when I see other families with babies ... with children of their own. It's the feeling of wanting ... of longing to experience what most other couples, and more specifically, women experience.

And while I'm no longer entrenched in those aching emotions of childlessness, I still have that feeling of wanting to belong. Of not wanting to be so different than others. To get to experience those things in a woman's life that most women get to share with one another. Child-free Living is, as Loribeth's blog title says is definitely "The Road Less Travelled." It's a place where not many people can accept or understand; where the perception is that those people who don't raise children are purely selfish. [caption id="attachment_2190" align="alignleft" width="271" caption="My fave pic of Hubby & our nephew. We were in the midst of IF treatment at the time."][/caption] And even amongst those couples who live without children, there is considerable debate surrounding the definition "child-free living." For some couples, child-free living is defined as the "lack of desire" to have children. While others see it simply as a lifestyle choice. The common factor, however, is that child-free living is a conscious decision to continue a life without children. Now ... throw infertility into the mix and there's even less of a connection to others who may see child-free living strictly as not wanting to have any children. Sometimes it's as if I feel that my life is destined to be one in which I am constantly "different" than others. First there's the whole two-different-worlds, in being a first generation Filipino-American. Then there's the whole deal of never being able to experience motherhood. And even moreso now, as I begin to live child-free after infertility.** While I've known since November that the title of my blog has since strayed from it's original purpose, I do feel that the lyrics to my favorite song still ring true. Because now ... instead of that longing for a child ... I am now longing for the understanding from others that living child-free after infertility was not an easy decision to make. And letting go of these apron strings was/is not such an easy task to do. So maybe it's not a matter of "letting go" of these apron strings*. Maybe it's more of longing for acceptance that my apron strings can be good for other things in my life ...

For apron strings can be used for other things Than what they're meant for and you'd be happy wrapped in my Apron strings

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[caption id="attachment_2212" align="alignright" width="269" caption="EBTG's first studio album ... a classic!"][/caption] * How do you like my new and improved "About This Blog" blurb? Yep ... it was time to change it. ** So here's a sidebar story ... Hubby & I recently started to "branch out" from our Chicago apartment to find groups or events that might be of interest. (About time, it's been a year!!) When we first started to look for things, we went to this website and looked up local groups. What I was surprised to see was the lack of support for CF Living after IF. But trust me, I found groups for those actively going through IF treatment; and I found staunch "No Kids" groups ... but none where I might relate to other women.

Yep ... IRL, I must really be all alone. But at least I have all you wonderful folk out there in blog world!

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Emily — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 04:30:06 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 04:39:59 +0000

I'm Bringing ___ Back

Emily — Wed, 10 Feb 2010 23:00:22 +0000

Oh yes, I'm at it again; listening to the smut that is morning talk radio. Yesterday's topic revolved, once again, around compliments. Except instead of "back-handed" ones, this time around it was what a woman would love to hear her significant other say to her. It started with the comment that apparently Sarah Silverman had made about her new boyfriend. She said ,"I think he's the first guy in a decade who's given me any kind of compliment, like saying I'm pretty or anything." Which, of course, had the men on the morning show saying, "Yeah, like pretty okay , that is." And I admit, I chuckled a bit. But then I thought, "Well, yeah, she could be pretty ..." Which was exactly what the women on the radio voiced as well. Then men on the show countered that the women's response was the male version of "pretty okay." Of course, the men were right in that statement. So from there, the discussion went on to what women would absolutely love to here from their significant other. Specifically, what ONE word would you love to hear at the end of this phrase: "You are so ___." [caption id="attachment_2223" align="alignleft" width="228" caption="Hubby tryin' to catch me all sexy 'n sh*t ..."][/caption] So of course Hubby turned to me and said, "What would you want to hear me say?" I sat next to him in the passenger seat quietly contemplating that same thought. And finally after being pestered for a few minutes, I finally answered with: "I need one word to cover both smart and sexy." And Hubby turned to me, grinning ear-to-ear, and said,"Smexy?" Uh, no. Somehow, I had this peculiar impression of ... I don't know. Smelly and ... well, you get the point. Consequently, I spent all day yesterday and this morning trying to come up with the one word that could tie both smart and sexy together. And the only word that I could think of is Captivating. And now, oh Bloggie Friends ... what ONE word would you love to hear?

Dancing on the Jetty

Emily — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 23:18:30 +0000

I'm actually writing this post on Wednesday night, hoping that I'd be able to get a "head start" on my next daily post. Well, actually I'm already ahead by one day ... which probably explains why I'm feeling as if I'm a day off. Sheesh ... Anyhoo ... I'm sitting here at the Border's Bookstore cafe overlooking State Street. Hubby is at a WordPress Meetup group learning how to post YouTube videos on to a WordPress blog. He asked me if I wanted to attend, seeing that I've been primarily blogging off Wordpress.com for two years now. I obviously begged off, seeing that I have already (countless times) posted videos from YouTube. Across the street is the Joffrey Tower, which is the home of the Joffrey Ballet of Chicago. It's been actually fun watching the activity on the other side of the street, because I can actually see the ballerinas dancing in the rehearsal rooms. I'm amazed at the discipline that these dancers have. They look so graceful, yet so incredibly controlled. How do they make it look so easy? Of course you're looking (or in this case, reading) about a gal who is known to trip on flat pavement. I admire anyone who is that dedicated to following such a career path. To follow their dreams and believe in their craft. Because seriously, how much do you think ballerinas or other performers make in a year? Other than those superstar performers or actors, I'm sure the income isn't that extraordinary. But then that's the Filipina part of me speaking. The "logical" side. The one who constantly here's her parent's voice saying, "How will you be able to make a living on a salary like that?" Which then always makes me second guess if I'm every "good enough" or "talented enough" to sustain daily living with what I might (or might not) make. Then there's American "dreamer" in me ... that's the spirited voice who thinks that it takes guts and dedication to do what you love to do in life. To be brave enough to follow your life's passion ... no matter what the outcome is. It's the same one that thinks that I can do whatever passion I want to in life and knows that I'd succeed. Unfortunately, it's the analytical Filipino mind that tends to win out in the end. It's the voice that tells me that there's no way I'd survive on passion alone. It's the also same one that tells me that I don't even know what I'm passionate about, so keep doing what I know I'm good at. And even if I did find out what I really want to do in life, what makes me think I'll ever be "good enough"? What I need to do is:

Find out what I'm "natural" and "good" at.
Determine if this would be something I could be "passionate about."
Work it into my daily life, and
Keep at it. Nonstop.

Basically I need to have the same amount of discipline and control that these dancers at the Joffrey Ballet have. Eesh. This means that somehow I need to find a way to tie these two voices together; to merge the best aspects of both of these thoughts (and cultures). I need the mean-spirited mind to push me not to be satisfied with who I am. And I need the "cheerleader rah-rah-rah" part to keep telling me I can do this; I can move forward in finding something I'd love to do. Wow. This was an awfully rambling post. I promise a better one ... tomorrow. And just so I can prove to Hubby that I can upload videos from YouTube without having to go to a "class" ... here's a video of the view I had of some practicing ballerinas. If you look reaaallly closely, you can see them dancing on the second floor!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z_szj4ubsbM]

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Emily — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 03:46:01 +0000

Untied & Undone

Emily — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 23:35:17 +0000

Why am I doing this? I'm sitting here on a Thursday night (yes, I'm still a day ahead) watching Discovery Channel. Tonight's show just happens to be about the birth and growth of a set of quadruplets. Yes, I know. Why. Must I. Continue. To put myself. Through torture? Except ... well, except the nurse in me is fascinated with it. Particularly because this set of quads happens to actually be two sets of identical twins. Two boys and two girls. And seeing as I've always been fascinated with identical twins, I got sucked right in. And yet I know ... I just know I'm jumping into a dark tunnel. I know that I'm going to start reflecting on my situation. And I know that I'm going to start feeling sorry for myself. So ... I will let myself watch this program. I *will* satisfy the nurse in me that loves watching the whole "Nature vs. Nurture" unfold. And I will smile. After that, I will turn off the TV and turn in for the night. Then I will slip into bed and maybe let a tear or two slip. And I will go to sleep knowing that tomorrow will be another day ...

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Emily — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:25:11 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:27:53 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:30:01 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:32:24 +0000

All "Kidding" Aside ...

Emily — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 23:34:13 +0000

Hubby & I are back in Michigan for the weekend. It's kinda nice to be back, although I do believe that the weather report exaggerated exactly how much snow that they supposedly got. I mean really ... Chicago got a whopping 12.6 inches in 24hrs last week, so I was expecting at least 10-12 inches here as well. But nope; it looks like there was only about 4 inches outside of our house. It's funny though, because after experiencing the snow storm in Chicago last week, I realize how much I could actually survive in a city where there is a lot of walking involved. Especially that walk from work to the El station, and the El station to our apartment. Or when needing to take our puppy out for a walk. Oh trust me, it was tiring walking in a foot of snow, but it's so different from winter life here in Michigan where the longest walk would be from my car to the front door of my (previous) office building. Or the longest amount of time I'd have to be outside was to shovel the driveway and sidewalk. [caption id="attachment_2242" align="alignright" width="169" caption="Uncle J and the Birthday Girl"][/caption] Anyway, the reason we are back in town this weekend was to celebrate our friends' daughter's 1st birthday. This particular couple has survived the the throes of infertility and have managed to get a totally awesome daughter in the process. A-girl is such a good-natured girl; always smiling and engaging everyone that comes in contact with her. Even in the midst of her birthday party when we could tell she was getting really sleepy, she still would smile and allow others to hold and carry her. And as A-girl sat in our lap today, both Hubby & I couldn't help but be amazed with her. We let her play with my iPhone and were quite surprised by how her little chubby fingers could flip through my photo album. Then we let her play Bejeweled 2 for the phone, and were shocked when we saw how successful she was ... especially since her dad happens to be the one person's score I aim to beat every week on Facebook. Also at this party was Cutie Girl; the same precocious little girl who always asks us about our dog and our cats. She is so sassy and smart that I can't help but be taken in by her incredibly large personality. [caption id="attachment_2243" align="alignleft" width="245" caption="Cutie Girl & Me"][/caption] So, as usual, she spent a whole 45 minutes or so with us, talking about our pets and what we could do to get her "Daddy" to agree to get one for her. I swear, this kid ... if she continues to have that fearlessness and confidence about her ... could very well be someone important and/or famous in the future. She's just one of these kids that people just naturally gravitate to! And yes, I also got to see my beautiful niece Kairi. She is growing so fast now! Except, well ... since we didn't get enough time to spend with just her, she wasn't exactly in a "playful" mood with her Auntie & Uncle. And that kinda bummed me out. Part of me thinks that the reason Kairi is like this around me is because she's just not "used" to us ... after all, she only sees us during major family gatherings. But then there's the other part of me that thinks that the events that unfolded after her birth had a part to play with my relationship with her. It's like ... I don't know ... she unconsciously (or even consciously) knows that there was a major strain between her mom & me immediately following her birth. [caption id="attachment_2244" align="alignright" width="175" caption="Our Beautiful Niece, Kairi"][/caption] I think there's this incredible Catholic guilt feeling that feeds that train of thought. It's the same thought I had during my SIL's pregnancy with Liam and his consequent passing: that the circumstances surrounding Liam's short life was a result of my feelings of jealousy over my SIL's pregnancy. And similar to that, my lack of "connection" with Kairi is a result of the loss of connection with her mom following her birth. Realistically I know that none of it is true, but there are those days ... like today ...that these thoughts are stronger that usual. I know I haven't talked much lately about how my relationship with my SIL has been. It's partly because I've learned from certain "foot in mouth" statements that certain things are best left off of Blog Land. But it's mostly because things have been rather quiet and low key amongst the two of us. I'd like to think that we've reached a silent "truce" of sorts ... that we've managed to move forward in fixing those severed ties. I don't think things will ever be a 100% better between SIL and me; but I do know that I've since learned a lot about myself since then. And one of them is knowing that I'm strong enough to move past the anger and hurt and resentment I felt for so long. Sure there will always be times where I might just shake my head at certain activities or actions, but I'm quite sure she probably has those same moments when thinking about me, as well. And I'm really, truly okay with that. If anything, being in a room full of children under the age of 7 proves that I'm finally at that stage in my IF journey where I can start to let things go and accept things for what they are. And it, quite remarkably, feels good. [caption id="attachment_2245" align="aligncenter" width="386" caption="Hubby & The Birthday Celebrant"][/caption]

Blessings & Curses

Emily — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 02:04:44 +0000

I know it's a little late, but Happy Valentine's Day to everyone. Since Hubby & I knew we'd be spending the day traveling back to Chicago, we had our "date night" last night. So what did we do? Well, nothing special ... other than a very simple dinner and a trip to the movie theater to see the latest romantic comedy, "Valentine's Day." The movie was cute and definitely enjoyable. I loved all the different vigniettes and how they were all interconnected (or tied) to one another. However, there was something about this movie that wasn't quite up to par with my all-time favorite romantic comedy, "Love, Actually." Maybe it's the Brit humor, but I just seem to like how that story unfolds better. Let's see ... what else? Oh yes; Emily is finally "Back in Black." Meaning, of course that my "Pepe Le Pew" white stripes from my grey hair is finally back to being completely black. Yeah, I know ... I really should be dyeing my hair after 2-3 months. But the cheapskate in me doesn't want to shell out the money to do it. I know, I know ... I could always do it myself; buy the dye from the local drug store and spend a Saturday night "washing my hair." Except there is no way that I'd be able to dye it myself without getting hair dye all over the counter and floor. At least with the amount of hair that I have, anyway. I consider myself "blessed" to have a head full of extra-thick coarse hair. And despite the fact that I use "extra-strength" hair dye with all that ammonia and other fumes, my hair is pretty darn healthy. Not that I mean to boast about my hair, but I've been told by many-a-person that they would kill to have my head of hair. Except, with this blessing also comes "the curse." And my curse just happens to be gray hair. I blame genetics and heredity for my prematurely graying. Both my parents started graying in their late 20's/early 30's ... and me? Well, I started graying in my mid-20's; progressively getting worse each year to where I truly could look like the Bride of Frankenstein if I go too long between hair appointments. But at least I have a head-full of hair that definitely keeps my head warm in the winter time! Anyway, the whole "blessing and curse" thing about my hair had me thinking of my other blessing/curse; especially since today is the day all about love. First the blessing: I consider the fact that I married my best friend my # 1 blessing in life. And the fact that I found him early in my life is just a huge bonus. Because really ... who better to grow up and grow old with, and share all life's adventures with than your best friend? And now the curse: No surprise that the curse is our inability to have children of our own. It's just frustratingly disappointing that Hubby & I won't be able to experience one of the biggest grand adventures in life. But I suppose that as long as Hubby's by my side, every day will be a grand adventure. It's strange to actually write those last two sentences on my blog. For years, it's always been about how unfair it was that Hubby & I couldn't have children. After all we have such a great relationship and would make such great parents. However, the older I get (and the further distance I put between myself and my childlessness), the more I begin to appreciate the so-called "Grand Adventure" that infertility has provided Hubby & me. It's because of IF that I've begun to realize that life is full of such "blessings" and "curses." For every negative aspect of life, there must be an equally positive aspect. And it's also because of IF that I've discovered that life is about finding balance in everything. That whatever aspect or experience in life that might bring us down ... there is yet another aspect or experience in life that will lift us up. The key just happens to be in finding this balance. So I think that's what I'm going to try to do with every unsettling situation I run into, regardless of whether it's my personal or professional life (or even my checkbook!). I'm going to try to find the counterbalance in any aggrevating circumstance. Perhaps this will get me more into that Zen state that I've been trying to achieve for years ... Oh, and because it happens to coincide with this year's Valentine's Day, Happy Chinese New Year to you. May the Year of the Tiger bring you much happiness and prosperity!

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Emily — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 04:40:08 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 04:48:56 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 05:03:03 +0000

And the Emmy goes to ...

Emily — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 01:27:53 +0000

Wow! I am totally feeling the bloggie love lately. First, I get a special secret "lollipop" from an anonymous reader. And then I actually get quoted about how much I enjoyed receiving such a lovely suprise. And now? Well now I just received another wonderful suprise ... a bloggie award from Mugsy at Drive Fast. Take Chances. How lucky can I be?! Seriously though, Mugsy has always been such a wonderful commenter on my blog that I feel so special that she thinks I deserve the "Beautiful Blogger Award." So thank you sooo much, Mugsy! But like all wonderful awards, the best part about being recognized is to also recognize those other bloggers that inspire us. So with that, there are instructions that go along with receiving this award:

Thank the person who nominated you for this award. (Check.)
Copy the award and place it in your blog. (Double check.)
Link the person who nominated you for this award. (Triple check.)
Tell us 7 interesting things about you.
Nominate 7 bloggers
Post the links to the 7 bloggers you nominate.

Okay, so seven interesting things about me. Eesh ... let's see:

I have this almost unhealthy obsession with Johnny Depp. It started back in grade school when 21 Jump Street first came out and as followed me through my adult life. What can I say? I have a thing about intellectual bad boys. And thank G*d, my Hubby doesn't mind!
When I was young, my parents owned one of the earlier versions of a karaoke machine where you could actually record yourself (on a cassette tape, of course) singing to various songs. We had a whole library of songs you could sing to, including Wham!, Duran Duran, and Spandau Ballet. Somewhere in my parents' basement is a whole 90 minute cassette tape of me singing all those early 80's Madonna songs.
Other than pets and (questionably) my Hubby & me, I can't keep other living things alive. Plants, that is. Seriously, the longest plant I ever kept alive was a cactus ... and even that's saying something.
I am not only a "Water Rat" (as the year of my birth dictates in the Chinese Zodiac), but I am a pack rat. I'd like to think it's a reflection of how sentimental a person I am, and how much I like to hold on to keepsakes. Yeah ... I'll keep telling myself that.
As much as I like to "collect" things (whether it's shoes or bags or books), I'm a pretty simple gal when it comes to "material things." I mostly like things for their "utilitarian" purpose rather than their "brand." Not sure when that started happening though, because I know in my college and post-colleg years I was all about style and name. Maybe the cost of IF was one factor in changing that mindset ...
I've been an avid reader my entire life; thanks to my Mom, who starting taking Dr. Bro and I to the library as early as 6 and 4 years of age, respectively. I spent every summer up until about 8th grade participating in my hometown library's Summer Reading Program.
Between my Hubby & I, we own more than enough CDs and to start our own library. And although most of those CDs were bought in those college & post-college years, we still haven't even uploaded even a fourth of those CDs onto our "digital" library.

So yeah. There's my seven (not so) interesting things about me. Well, at least *I* don't think there as interesting as ... I don't know ... saying that I'm double-jointed, or something along that line. And now ... this is where I admit that I've been a bad bad BAD bloggie friend for ... ahem ... quite awhile now, actually. I can come up with some lousy excuse, but the truth is that I haven't had much time to write a blog entry, let alone read and comment on other bloggie friend's blogs. But seeing that I'm now *consciously* making an effort to write more ... this should mean that I should also consciously make the effort to read and comment more, as well. So this list? These are my tried and true blogs that I've loved to read throughout the life of my bloggie existence. A few are bloggers who started out in the same Infertility boat as I was ... and in the three years I've been blogging, we've all diverged in different directions. But that doesn't mean that I don't stop enjoying their updates. Anyway ... here goes.

Pamela at Blood Signs. She's a fellow midwesterner, who shares my love of books and music. Add to the fact that she's a beautiful writer, well ... it can't get any better than that.
Christina at Apron Strings. Oh yes ... anyone that shares the same love of Everything But The Girl with me is gold in my eyes. And given the fact that we also share the same Wedding Anniversary date ... well, that just is the icing on the cake!
Kate at The Only Bee In Your Bonnet. I've loved following along with Kate's journey. She's got a way of writing that has you wanting to know more about her life and her thoughts. And because she's just as wordy as I am, I can appreciate it all.
Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka. Yep, Aunt Becky made the list ... for no other reason than her writing completely Cracks. Me. Up. There have been many days where I've found myself in the dumps and all I needed to do is click over to Aunt Becky and I would find myself smiling. Add to the fact that she has always been there for me, commenting on my blog ... well, I couldn't ask for a better bloggie friend.
Kelly over at Soapchick. I first met stalked Kelly IRL at a Resolve event back in MI and I couldn't be more grateful for the incredible support and strength she's provided me in my life these past few years.
Loribeth at The Road Less Travelled. As I fumbled through deciding where my IF journey would eventually take me, Loribeth has been an inspiration for me. With her writing, she's allowed me to realize that life DOES go on, despite the curve balls that get thrown our way.
Mrs. Spit at Mrs. Spit ... Still Spouting Off. There is something ... for lack of better words ... ethereal about Mrs. Spit's writings. Just like Aunt Becky has a way of making me laugh, Mrs. Spit has this way of soothing my soul. And in weathering the storms I've faced these past few years, she has been that sense of calm I've needed .

So there you have it. I've now officially passed on my award to others. But not before, once again, thanking Mugsy for such an honor ...

Beautiful+Blogger+Award

Emily — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 05:26:48 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:00:52 +0000

Today, I am Polish-Filipino

Emily — Tue, 16 Feb 2010 18:02:15 +0000

If there’s one thing I love about Chicago, it’s the fact that they share a lot of the same traditions as Detroit does. Today just happens to be one of those days. I had a co-worker back in Michigan that moved from the East Coast. The first February in Detroit, she recalled how she’d be reading the newspaper and would stumble upon this word that she had NO idea how to pronounce. “Pack-zee? Pass-key?” That’s how she thought the word would sound like. “And what the *heck* is ‘Pazz-ski Day’ anyway?” My fellow Detroiters and I laughed when we heard that statement. “Poonch-kee,” we corrected her. But really, we couldn’t fault her because … well, unless your Polish, you probably wouldn’t know how to pronounce “Paczki.” For those of you that aren't familiar with what a Paczki is, it’s a deep-fried piece of dough that is typically filled with either crème or jelly. Sounds like a regular doughnut, doesn’t it? Except it isn’t … it’s made out of especially rich dough containing eggs, fats, sugars and sometimes milk. So basically it’s a lot more calories than your typical filled doughnut. Paczki Day started as a Polish tradition in which a typical Polish-Catholic would make batches and batches of paczki to try to purge any ingredients that might spoil during the Lenten season. And, of course, what better day to get “rid” of all those extra paczki than to make Fat Tuesday the official day for these treats? This tradition carried over to the US, and in particular the Midwestern states, where there are large communities of Polish-Americans. Detroit, in particular, has Hamtramck; a city of Polish descendents within the city of Detroit. And Chicago, apparently also has a multitude of Polish neighborhoods; which is collectively known as Chicago Polonia. And why do I know so much of the history of Paczki Day? Well … let’s just say the Catholic Grade School I went to comprised mostly of Polish-Americans. So much that this Filipino-American knew more about pierogi and sauerkraut than the typical non-Polish-American. Seriously … our Grade School’s Annual Festival comprised of your typical Midway rides, a beer tent and a Polka contest. (And no … I do not know how to Polka. But I have been taken around the dance floor a couple times!) In fact these same co-workers (who helped me tease our East Coast transplant) have all but named me an “Honorary Pole” for knowing a little too much of Polish traditions! So yes … I just thought I’d bring a little history to y’all non-Polish peeps and any non-Midwesterners. Have a wonderful FAT TUESDAY and a Happy Paczki Day!!

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Emily — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 04:19:21 +0000

Blades of Glory

Emily — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 16:30:03 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2267" align="alignright" width="209" caption="The 2010 Olympic Mascots"][/caption] I admit it. I totally love watching the Olympics; and particularly the Winter Games. Oh, don't get me wrong ... I love the Summer Games, too (particularly any of the swimming events). However, there's something about the danger of any of the Winter events that makes it more ... thrilling. I mean, even Pairs Figure Skating can be dangerous; as I've imagined various scenarios of ice blades or toe picks landing on places that they shouldn't be. Especially as one of the pairs actually had such a nasty incident back in 2007. And take a look at the Georgian luger, Nodar Kumaritashvili. Even though I don't endorse looking at any of the videos of the crash ... for those that have seen it, it's just simply horrific. I just feel for his family and for his fellow competing countrymen. Anyway, last night I watched the beginning of the Men's Figure Skating competition. And as Hubby & I listened to some of the commentary while watching the French skater, Florent Amodio and the Canadian skater, Vaughn Chipeur perform, both of us could not stop giggling. Simply because it reminded us so much of some of the "commentary" done on the movie "Blades of Glory." Let me explain. Jon Heder's character is Jimmy MacElroy. He's a very ... for lack of better description ... "feminine" male skater. And in the movie, "video interview" goes a little something like this:

"He's a child of privilege. A classic skater, defined by elegance, precision, and the ability to endure great pain. He was plucked from an orphanage at age 4 by billionaire champion-maker, Darren MacElroy. Once a breeder of some of the most successful racehorses in the world, Darren had turned his attention to nurturing athletically advanced human orphans. His ultimate find came in the form of skating wonderkid, Jimmy."

Uh huh; incredibly cheesy. And then there's Amodio. As he skated, the commentator gave us his biography:

"... found on the streets of Brazil and eventually adopted as a young infant by a French couple. He started skating at age four when long-time coach Bernard Glesser discovered him in a public skating session."

Then there's Will Ferrell's character, Chazz Michael Michaels. He's a very skilled skater, but too much of a rebel. Chazz's biography in the movie goes a little like this:

"At age twelve, Chazz escaped a life of running cigarettes and illegal fireworks by becoming a star in Detroit's underground sewer skating scene. The only skater to win four national championships and an adult film award, which is not to say this ruffian heartthrob doesn't have a softer side. He recently published a book of poetry, 'Let Me Put My Poems In You.'"

Uh yeah. Too frickin' funny ... I especially enjoyed the whole "nod" to Detroit. Then the commentary on Vaughn Chipeur:

"He likes cars. He likes loud music and rock ‘n’ roll. And he’s got the same style on the ice. He’s strong, athletic and macho, which is a refreshing. He’s found a style that suits what he likes. The audience really responds to it, and now the judges are responding to it, which is great."

Oh ... come on . Y'all have to see a little similarity there, don't you?! Anyway, the whole point of this post wasn't to poke at Men's Figure Skating. Quite honestly, I do enjoy watching the men skate as well. I just simply enjoy a male figure skater who is athletic, yet graceful. But not so graceful that it looks too ... dainty. No, the point of this post is more about how much I love the concept of the Olympic Games. I love how all these various nations can gather together in the spirit of comraderie and competition. How individuals who represent their country can still cheer for their fellow athlete. And really, isn't that what sports are supposed to be about? Competing for a title, yet still respecting the sport? [caption id="attachment_768" align="alignright" width="306" caption="Yami cuddles with Quatchi, one of the Olympic Mascots"][/caption] In US sports today, I can't say that's a 100% true. Especially when we live in a country obsessed with "superstars." Not saying that all super-athletes have no respect for their game ... in fact, there are some professional sports out there, like Hockey, that still seem to respect the game. I'm just saying that sometimes other material things (money ) get in the way of that respect. So that's what's refreshing about the Olympics for me. Sometimes it's not even about cheering for my country (although, with that said ... Go USA!), it's about cheering for everyone that has even made it to the games.

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Oh, and sorry ... I have just one more dig at Men's Figure Skating. Some of these costumes are ridiculous! Foremost is Johnny Weir's "Rock the Tassle" black unitard with pink trim. But the one that *got* me the most was the outfit AND music used by the Italian skater, Samuel Contesti. Not only was he dressed in jean overalls (conveniently "shaped" in the "right spots), but he skated to a very rockabilly-blues song by the J. Geils Band. It just seems odd that an Italian man should be wearing a very "hillbilly outfit" while skating to a very American song. Very truly a "Starbust Contradiction" ...

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Emily — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 16:54:41 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 06:27:39 +0000

Keeping the Momentum

Emily — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 16:31:02 +0000

There's a part of me that realizes I've changed since coming to a resolution with my infertility; since moving to Chicago. It's been a gradual change; mostly based on the increasing confidence and strength I've garnered over the past year. And this past month, with all the writing I've been doing ... I realize that my posts have definitely taken a different tone. Specifically, I've noticed that I've taken a break from the sad, depressing -- and even angry -- parts of my life. I have always loved making observations about myself and of the world. My mom always told me that I was both very perceptive and inquisitive, so I guess it comes naturally to me. The only problem I've encountered (especially more recently) is that I often forget what an impact some of these observations have on me. And if I don't write them down ... well, then my "lightbulb moment" gets lost in the dim recess of my mind.

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Speaking of observations ... yesterday was the "observed" Catholic Holy Day of Ash Wednesday. Ask me if I went to mass ... and I'm sure you'd already know the answer. But we've already had many a conversation about my actual "practice" of my Catholic faith. Regardless, there are certain things ... traditions, really ... that I like to follow. (Coincidentally, a bloggie friend recently talked about how traditions in religion is something she enjoys ... read about it here.) One of them is the practice of "giving up" something during Lent. I debated for a few days as to what I would give up this year. In the past, I've typically given up things that I really, really enjoy ... knowing that I'd really only be practicing the art of self-restraint. One year it was chocolate-covered pretzels, and another year was caramel apple suckers. Come Easter after both years, I was so good at exercising self-restraint that I no longer had those "cravings" to consume them as I had done before Ash Wednesday. This year I thought about giving up Coca-Cola (I'm addicted) or even any form of chocolate (detrimental to *anyone's* sanity). And as I told my co-worker this, she told me what she decided to do different for Lent this year. Since she was already pretty adept at giving up things for Lent, my co-worker chose to "pay it forward" this Lenten season. Meaning that she would decide to do one random act of kindness every day for the 40 days before Easter. The more she talked about her plans, the more she had me sold on doing the same thing. Even though I understand the concept of "giving up" something for Lent as being able to exercise abstinence and to "purify the soul" before the day of Resurrection ... the "rebel" Catholic in me thinks that this concept in this century is self-defeating, rather than self-appreciating. If this sounds muddled, let me explain it with this train of thought: If I decide to give up chocolate for Lent this year and I'm not successful, I know I'd feel guilty. Even worse is that the mere thought of having chocolate before Easter would already elicit those feelings of guilt ... even if I didn't have any . Yeah, self-defeating. But ... let's say that instead of "giving up" something, I decide to "give" something to someone else ... like an extra sandwich from my catered lunch meeting today to the homeless person outside of the Starbucks by work ... well, it would make me feel as if I've helped someone else and it would make me feel good about myself. And in the end, it would boost my confidence. Kinda like how once I started to allow myself to feel "happy" again (after 12+ years of infertility), I've managed to garner some momentum in gaining confidence and strength. And more importantly, contentment in my overall life. (See how it all ties together?)

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My goal this February was to write an entry a day; and seeing that I have only 11 days to go, I'm pretty sure I will meet this goal and gather more of that strength and confidence. [caption id="" align="alignleft" width="203" caption="LOOVE this "work flow" chart!"][/caption] SO ... in order to continue that forward momentum, I've decided to borrow my co-worker's Lenten promise. Starting today (and ending on Easter Monday ... since I'm already a day behind), I am going to vow to perform one random act of kindness a day and document that daily deed on my blog. But not only that ... I'm also going write about one thing that I'm thankful for every day. Because the exercise here is to remember that others may not have the same luxuries (whether material or other luxuries) in life that I do. And I hope this gets me closer towards feeling more fulfilled in this life.

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Emily — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 04:08:23 +0000

Good Deed #1

Emily — Fri, 19 Feb 2010 14:15:53 +0000

Yesterday started my Lenten journey of paying it forward. And what do you suppose I did for my random act of kindness? Well, it wasn't anything spectacularly big ... but I suppose by being a "random" or unplanned act, it doesn't have to be anything astounding. I must say, though ... for my first "good deed," I couldn't ask for anything more simple and direct. Meaning that I really didn't have to go so far out of my way to look for something nice to do. In this case, as I was walking into my work area ... which just happens to be in a high traffic conference room area ... I just happened to look down at a rather important-looking piece of paper that rested on the carpet. I bent down to get a closer look and realized that it happened to be someone's RN license. And the name on the license didn't belong to anyone that I knew. As soon as I settled in to my cubicle, I logged on to my computer and proceeded to email the person whose name was on the license. Within minutes I was handing over the RN license to particularly happy individual; grateful that he didn't have to spend the time logging on to the State's website to print up a copy of the original license I just handed to him. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="241" caption="Our Official Engagement Photo. Look how *young* we look!"][/caption] There you go ... my first random act of kindness. And now, I get to unveil the first (of many) things that I'm thankful for. I guess I will go for the most obvious thing (at least for me) that I'm grateful for ... and that would be the fact that I married my best friend. Seeing that we first met in high school and have been together as a couple since the summer I graduated from high school ... I am thankful that we have grown up and "grown into" the relationship that we have today. In other words, both of us have been very fortunate that we haven't had any previous "baggage" to bring into our world; that we've been able to build our adult relationship from scratch. And because I know there aren't that many couples out there that have had this luxury of growing up together into a relationship and having the patience with each other as we've fumbled through "rookie" mistakes, I know that we're lucky. And I am most grateful. So there you have it ... Day 1 of 40 done.

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Emily — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 23:12:10 +0000

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Emily — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 23:18:36 +0000

Finding the Peace Train

Emily — Sat, 20 Feb 2010 23:42:33 +0000

Somedays I forget that I do those every day Random Acts. On yesterday's train ride home I struggled to find something simple to do: pay for someone's fare that may had difficulties using their Chicago Card, give up my seat to someone who needed it, simply hold the door open for the next person coming through the station exit. Unfortunately no one needed a free ride. Nor did anyone take my seat when I offered it to them. AND no one was behind me as I exited the train station. Crap, I thought. It's only Day #2 and I'm already struggling to find a good deed. [caption id="attachment_2302" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Current Path "Under Construction""][/caption] I reflected on the day's events last night, as I watched Olympic Men's Skiing. And as I did, I recalled the lunch time conversation I had with another one of the supervisors. This particular supervisor is one that I've found myself becoming close to over the year. She was one of the first supervisors to really embrace me and welcome me to the department. She's also the same person (along with Hubby) who is constantly making sure that I take my lunch break, as she knows that I tend to lose track of time during the work day. Lately, N and I have had pretty deep discussions about our shared Catholic religion and faith. (Are you seeing a pattern with my posts lately?) When we first met, I had admitted that I had found myself straying away from my Catholic faith; mainly because of the struggles that I've had with dealing with my infertility. I told her how I was so angry at God for the cards I had been dealt and I couldn't understand why He would be putting me through all this pain. N, on the other hand, told me that she was finally finding her way back to God after all these years and was feeling more at peace with her life. Yesterday we revisited the conversation about our faith; partly because it was this particular supervisor's idea of doing the Lenten Daily Good Deed. I had told her that I performed my first "random act" the other day and that it felt good to do something nice for someone else. Amidst the rest of the conversation, I told her that this past year has, at the very least, opened my mind up a little more towards God and spirituality ... That at the very least, I have finally come to the conclusion that God truly did not give me more than I can handle. N, on the other hand, surprised me by saying that she was starting to feel the opposite; that she was at a point in her life right now where she was so angry at God. [caption id="attachment_2303" align="alignright" width="225" caption=""What am I supposed to do now?""][/caption] Now would probably be the time I should explain that she has been in the midst of some heavy duty treatment for a chronic condition which was diagnosed earlier last year. Amongst this condition, she's had some other minor surgeries related to injuries she sustained in her younger, marathon-running years. So between these treatments and the subsequent weakness that accompanied both the surgeries and the treatment, let's just say it's been a really trying year for her. In addition to being angry, N had also mentioned how there were just some days that she felt that she couldn't even get out of bed. That there were just some days that she felt it might have been easier just to stop her treatments and just give up. I told her that I knew exactly what she meant. That I could never completely understand what she was going through, but I could certainly empathize with those feelings. Because I can absolutely tell you that there were times during my infertility journey where I couldn't take one more step forward, where I just wished God would have taken me out of my misery ... where I can honestly tell you that I truly gave up.* But something ... rather, some one kept my head above water this whole time, and I am forever grateful to God for giving me my husband. And although it's taken some time and distance from both God and my inability to have children, I can finally put some perspective on how all the challenges I've been given has proven to me that I can make it through the worst part of my life (thus far, knock on wood) with my sanity intact. AND come out stronger than I was before. I'd like to think I comforted N by those words; to know that there is some hope out there, despite how bleak things can look. That, although I'm by far not the most traditionally Catholic person out there, I do believe that there is a spirituality out there (whether it's God, or Yahweh, or Buddha or any other spiritual being) that can somehow propel a person out of the darkest moments in his or her life. And even though anger is the only emotion felt, as long as a person is willing to let even a little love in, that little bit of spirit can be enough to sustain you until you're ready to take a step forward. [caption id="attachment_2304" align="alignleft" width="224" caption="After enough time has passed, another ride comes along"][/caption] Anyway, I think I can consider that my "good deed" for the day. And I hope that it's a deed that continues to keep giving, because after giving N my phone number ... I hope that she knows she can call me at any time, even if it is just to scream or cry. Now ... something I'm thankful for. Well, going with today's "good deed", I want to thank all of my bloggie friends out there that have gotten me through my very worse days. It's your spirits (along with Hubby's, of course) that kept shining down on me during those days I've felt as if I'd been swallowed up by darkness. I can't thank you enough for your love and support ... because it's all of you ladies that have helped me keep my sanity in the times of insanity.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

*Seriously, I can give you dates and times and everything ... those emotions have forever impacted me, and I truly never ever want to feel that way again.

3 Blessings & A Good Deed

Emily — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 00:47:42 +0000

I apologize now, because I know this is going to be a (relatively) short post ... at least for me. I'm just not feeling a 100% today and I'm trying to shake off the yuckies. [caption id="attachment_2311" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Lazy Sunday Morning"][/caption] Yesterday's good deed was again, nothing that was extraordinarily spectacular. I spent most of the day yesterday at the same Borders I did two Wednesdays back. Hubby again has been networking like crazy (nothing like free-lancing in a "new" area to try to find new contacts) and spent some time with yet another Meetup group. And while he did that, I spent some time catching up on blog reading and writing. Because all Borders cafes now have free WiFi, there are more people (me included) that tend to stick around and surf the web. However, like most free WiFi coffee houses and bookstores, it also tends to attract those college / grad school students as well. That is one of the reasons why it tends to be difficult finding a table to sit at; lots of group studies apparently meet at this particular Borders on the weekend. After waiting for a few minutes, I managed to score a nice spacious four-topper where I could camp out. Of course, I was conscientious enough to only take a little space of the table so that others can join me if they want. No sooner than I sat down, I noticed a group of about 5 students looking for a place to sit. And yep, you guessed it: I gave them. And boy, were they grateful ... so grateful that when they left a couple hours later, they offered the table back to me. [caption id="attachment_2312" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Nappy Time ..."][/caption] Good Deed # 3 completed. AND ... well, since I didn't step out of the house today (seriously, I'm planning on staying in my pajamas until tomorrow morning), I have to admit that I didn't have an opportunity to do any random kind act. Unless you count cooking "pasta and gravy"* for Hubby for lunch a good deed ... but I would have done that anyway. So instead of another good deed, I think I'll just add an additional "Gratitude" for the day; making it three things (for yesterday and today) I'd like to show my appreciation for.

As much as a financial hardship it's been (at least most recently), I am grateful that Hubby & I have a place to live both here in Chicago and Detroit. I would like nothing more than to sell our home in Detroit so we can use the mortage payment for that house for something else ... but for now, it's nice to have our own place to rest our heads when we're back in town.
I'm grateful for Sunday mornings. I can't stress enough how much I love those mornings where I can wake up at my leisure. Not that every Sunday morning is like that ... but when they are, nothing can be more relaxing. Except maybe if I was in Hawaii. Waking up to the sound of the ocean waves. Outside my bedroom window. But hey, I'll take any lazy Sunday morning anywhere .
I am so thankful for afternoon naps. Going along with my whole Lazy Sunday theme for the day, I must admit that I fell asleep on the couch trying to watch an episode of "Project Runway" that I DVR'd a couple weeks ago (I'm behind two weeks ... eesh). And when I woke up? Yeah, it was just in time to see Capt Jack Sparrow on the USA Network. What a great way to wake up! LOL!

Okay, so that's all I've got for today. I'm hoping that this relaxing day was just what I needed to boost my energy in preparation for another busy week. Hope you all have a wonderful evening ...

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

* I've been recently schooled that "pasta & gravy" is actually the correct term for "spaghetti" as deemed by many Chicago Italian-Americans ... who knew?!

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Emily — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 03:10:48 +0000

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Emily — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 03:19:27 +0000

Sole Trading

Emily — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 02:44:07 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2318" align="alignright" width="218" caption="Kickin' It in College with my Doc Martens"][/caption] I don't know what it is, but I can't help watching "The Devil Wears Prada" every time I see it on the television. And even though I hate the fact that Anne Hathaway's character, Andy, inevitably always crosses over to the "Dark Side" (even for just a moment), I always hope that she doesn't. Like perhaps Andy's watched the movie hundreds of times (like me), and learns from the mistakes made earlier in the film. Which is absolutely silly, because how can a character re-watch his or her life over and over again? Anyway, the reason this movie gets to me is because I can honestly see how an ambitious person like Andy, can almost lose her soul in order to achieve her dream. While I was never like that as a new hospital RN in my early 20's or even as a new supervisor at a health insurance company in my late 20's; I know that there have been moments in my latest stint as a supervisor here in Chicago that have really challenged me to discover who I really am. Maybe it's the fact that I'm in a bigger pool of Corporate America than I was in Michigan. Maybe it's because I'm working in a larger, more cutthroat market in Chicago. But I have never felt the need to be overly competitive with other departments, let alone other co-workers in my own department. I've never felt the need to "prove myself" worthy of my position. I've always thought that my work should speak for itself. This past year has, for lack of better words, has pushed me into corners I never thought I would find myself. Many times, I've felt like I've had my back up against the wall with no other recourse but to push back ... and push back hard. Which, if anybody knows me, I am NEVER one to rock the boat. Unless, of course, something or someone threatens me or anyone I love. [caption id="attachment_2319" align="alignleft" width="193" caption="Flip Flops in SoCal"][/caption] Amazingly, I've managed to come out of such incidents with my dignity and integrity intact. And I haven't had to sacrifice any part of who I was in the process. But the best part of it all, was that I've managed to gain the respect of not only my team, but my peers as well. Which, unlike Andy in the movie who sold her soul for a pair of Jimmy Choos (but eventually realized it in the end ... ), is much more rewarding than free designer clothes and a trip to Paris. Of course, if my company offered me the chance to live in Hawaii ... (Just kidding, of course.) (Maybe.)

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Okay, so Good Deed for the day:

There are times when I don't think I've done "good" for someone; especially when I feel like it should be my responsibility to go "above and beyond" what I need to do for my staff. Case in point: My boss asked my non-RN staff member to assist her with this ginormously huge report.

Typically, it's no biggie that my boss ask to borrow this particular staff member; especially because he is a very strong and resourceful . Except when she gives him a short turn-around time for such a big report. With little to no direction. And then she's gone for three days. And the sad thing is ... that this staff member and I have a running joke about "vague instructions."

So rather than set my staff member up for failure, I offered to help him out. And between our two heads, we figured out a way to speed things up a bit; getting rid of any non-value added steps to the process. While we still have quite a bit of work to do over the next few days, I'm sure that he'll have a LOT more completed than he would have without the little bit that I helped with.

What do you guys think? Do you consider this a good deed? Or is this something that, as a supervisor, you'd expect yourself to do for your staff? Hubby thinks it should count as a good deed ... so I think I'll count it as one today.

[caption id="" align="alignright" width="189" caption="Showing some Hubby Love"][/caption] And now ... today's Thankful Thought:

Well, it goes without saying that I'm completely grateful for the experiences that my current job has given me. Good and bad. And even though there are days that I feel completely overwhelmed and frustrated, I just try to remember that it's those challenges that tend to either shape me into (hopefully) a better and stronger person. Or they reinforce what integrity I already have.

What about you? Is there a particular job or project that you've been involved in that has shaken your integrity? Tested your personality to the core?

And on a completely different note: Whew. I'm almost done with my February goal of posting a blog entry a day for an entire month. And now I've got another 35 more Random Acts and Gratitudes to go!

[caption id="attachment_2321" align="alignnone" width="490" caption="Canoeing Crocs on Lake Louise in Banff, Alberta"][/caption]

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Emily — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 04:36:38 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 04:38:08 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 04:39:25 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 23 Feb 2010 04:41:21 +0000

For The Birds

Emily — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 02:05:39 +0000

Ugh. Another busy day at work today. I felt like I needed a fire extiguisher strapped to my back (like the "proton packs" from Ghostbusters) just so I can put out all the fires I'd been dealing with all day. To top it off, we had a pretty big department meeting with our director and VP this morning. No exciting news revealed, but I'm comforted to know that all the information that I've received as a supervisor is being communicated right down to my staff. I'm also relieved that all the information I've disseminated down to them has been accurate ... whew! I also had my own team meeting today. With the exception of one team member, this is the first team meeting I've had with all my telecommuters and new staff together in the same room. Yes, that's right ... new staff. Quite amazing in this economy, isn't it? We were told late last summer that the membership for my particular employer group would actually be increasing in 2010. Starting in October, I started hunting for four new RN Case Managers. It took me four months, but I finally found four nurses that I thought would add to my current team of six RN Case Managers. Which makes, on top of the two non-RN staff members, a total of 12 employees that I supervise. I did have 13 at one time, but as of last week I reluctantly relinquished this one RN Case Manager (who is assigned to an all-together different employer group) to another supervisor. Needless to say, with training four new staff and dealing with the increase in membership, it's been a completely hectic few months. But the bright spot is that when everyone is up and running, and when my seasoned staff is no longer having to be tied up with precepting my new staff, I think I'm going to be reaallly happy with my team. So what was my good deed for the day?

Today was a rather fun one. This morning, as I took my puppy girl out for her morning walk, I decided to grab some of the old hamburger buns we had in our kitchen to feed the birds and the squirrels.

Part of our morning routine includes Kozzy stepping outside of the front door of our apartment building and squatting her little tush right on the front lawn. (Thank goodness it's covered with snow these days ... yellow colored, but snow nonetheless ... ) And because our neighbors have hedge bushes, during the winter it tends to be filled with sparrows keeping themselves warm in the cold Chicago wind. So that's were I decided to scatter some bread.

Of course, my Kozzy-girl decided that the bread was actually meant as a treat for her and attempted to gobble it up! After having devoured one batch of crumbled bread, I finally lead her away from the bread and told her that it was meant for the birds! Oh ... if you could only see my doggie's pitiful looking face!

And we won't even go into details about how she tried to chase the squirrels away when I put out some bread for them ...

Boy, do I love my affable Kozzy!

Which, of course, leads me to my gratitude for the day:

I am grateful that our dog, Kozzy, is in our life. Sure she's got some separation anxiety and abandonment issues. And sure she merely sees me as her litter-mate, while Hubby is Alpha-dog. But she loves us unconditionally and is so absolutely protective of us around strangers. I love it when her cold wet nose reaches up to try to touch mine. And I love how her eyes light up and her ears perk up when she and "Daddy" come meet me at the train station. Oh and when she's feeling really affectionate? I love how she presses her entire body weight up against my leg.

I am so grateful to consider my Kozzy as my fur child.

[caption id="attachment_2330" align="aligncenter" width="437" caption="Kozzy as a puppy; this was the look that suckered us in!"][/caption]

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Emily — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 04:53:49 +0000

396

Emily — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 04:56:15 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 05:03:13 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 24 Feb 2010 05:04:38 +0000

Oh NUTS!!

Emily — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 01:50:36 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2336" align="alignright" width="209" caption="Somedays work feels like Mr. Stay Puft"][/caption] Proton Pack Day #2. Except today I was remotely putting out fires from home; which definitely had its challenges. But ask me if I minded doing it from home, and I'd tell you that I would find a way of putting up with the challenges in order to take advantage of this benefit. It's just too bad that I'm limited to working from home only one day a month. Boo ... Anyway, because I worked from home today I did not have much opportunity to do any new Random Acts of Kindness. Instead, while taking my puppy-girl for an extended walk (after my work day was done), I once again spread some goodies for the Chicago wildlife. Well ... the birds and squirrel variety, anyway -- none of those "back alley" city wildlife. Squirrels are funny creatures; more so, it seems, in the city. Hubby & I have had the conversation before about how squirrels in Chicago seem just a bit different than squirrels back in suburban Detroit. First of all, the colorings/markings on Chicago squirrels are remarkably greyish-brown; more of a hodge-podge of various squirrel colorings. And then there are those suburban Detroit squirrels, which tend to be either reaaallly brown or black. [caption id="attachment_2339" align="alignleft" width="190" caption="Meet City Squirrel (Chicago)"][/caption] And because I grew up in suburban Detroit in the decade following the 1967 Detroit Riot and during Coleman Young's five terms of Mayor (both circumstances that contributed to the massive segregation between city and suburbs, caucasian and non-caucasian), it's a silly observation that Detroit squirrels should be so ... well, black and white. Add to the fact that up until the last decade or so, it was rare to see a black squirrel past Eight Mile Road* ... that's irony at its best! But regardless of ra- ... I mean species , the big thing that we noticed about city squirrels and "country" squirrels*** is the personalities. Suburban squirrels (at least in all other areas of the Detroit area other than Ann Arbor) are rather timid. They are easily frightened by anything and everything. Whereas, their cousin, City Squirrel just loooves to come up to anyone or anything ... especially my dog. You know, the same dog that has anxiety issues? And totally gets nervous/aggressive when other pets are around? Yes, City Squirrel loves to antagonize her. (My poor Kozzy-girl ... ) They love to stand in direct path of her and make clicking sounds in order to get her attention. And then they looove running away the minute Kozzy starts pulling on her leash and barking at them. [caption id="attachment_2340" align="alignright" width="211" caption="And this is Suburban Squirrel"][/caption] Some days it's absolutely hysterical. And then there are days, like today (as I tried to feed them), that it's downright frustrating! (Remind me again why I was trying to feed them? Oh yeah, for my daily Lenten *good* deed ... NUTS!!) As for what I'm thankful for today ... I guess because we're quite tight in the wallet lately, I'm grateful that I have food to put on our table and food to feed our pets. While City & Suburban Squirrel can probably scrounge off the land (they're raised to do that) or fill their tummies with scraps given to them by suckers like me, at least I don't have to go further than the closest grocery store to get mine. And how about all the other people I see in the streets of Chicago? The ones asking for spare change just to get food? The same ones that are grateful for any leftovers that other humans give to them? That just makes me even more thankful that we have what we have. Okay ... that's it for the night. Think I'm going to crash now, so that I can be prepared to fight more fires tomorrow.

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="258" caption="And finally, meet City Squirrel II (Detroit)"][/caption] * Yes, that IS the road that is referenced in the famed Brian Grazer/Eminem** movie. This road in Detroit is literally (and figuratively) the dividing line between city and suburbs. ** Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon: I have a friend who actually went to HS/Middle school with Marshall ... well, at least until he dropped out! *** Remember City Mouse and Country Mouse? Meet their kissing cousin, Suburban Mouse! LOL!

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Emily — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 04:15:19 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 04:38:04 +0000

400

Emily — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 04:39:48 +0000

402

Emily — Thu, 25 Feb 2010 04:42:42 +0000

More Cowbell!

Emily — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 01:10:45 +0000

Living in Hockeytown (aka Detroit), I've been to enough hockey games to know at least the first verse of the the Canadian National Anthem. It also helps that Windsor is literally across the river (and south) from Detroit. But after being addicted to watching the 2010 Winter Olympics these past few weeks, I think I'm getting to know the whole she-bang. What exactly am I going to do after this weekend?! And, more importantly ... what am I going to do with my new iPhone "Cowbell" app? After all, I did download it specifically for the ski and bobsleigh and snowboard events. And I know d*mn well I'll be using it tomorrow and this weekend when watching the men's hockey event ... But still! [caption id="attachment_2350" align="alignright" width="219" caption="A little more cowbell!"][/caption] Ah ... but according to my team, I was told I could use it to "herd" everyone together for our team meetings. Or use it to call order in the room. Or simply use it to disrupt a tense situation. In any case, it will be fun using them in other sporting events ... like, oh say ... Michigan Football? Let's see, want to hear the most girl-scouty good deed I've done thus far in my Lenten "Good Deed" journey? Get this ... I actually helped a blind man cross the street. Not. Kidding. You. What can I say, the opportunity presented itself as I came up to the intersection right by the El station close to my home. I saw him standing at the corner looking unsure as to which direction he wanted to turn, so I simply asked him. And even though I didn't physically walk him across the street, I at least pointed him (or, rather lead him) in the right direction. As I sit here tonight watching ... duh, the Olympics, I'm actually rooting for 16-year old Mirai Nagasu from the US to medal ... I just love her personality! But somehow, I think she won't. And I really hope that Joannie Rochette gets to medal tonite. I think that despite the fact that her mother passed away, she had an incredible short program. Oh well, I'm just hoping for a good program tonite. Wouldn't it be great if Joannie won? Then I'd get to practice my singing of the Canadian National Anthem. Ha! Anyway, with the focus on Joannie and the loss of her mother ... well, it makes me think of my own Mom, and how I'd feel if I lost her suddenly. As it is, we're coming up on the year anniversary of my Grandma Rose's passing ... which I'm sure is probably weighing heavily on my Mom's mind as well. I think it's events like this, whether it's my Grandma's passing or Joannie's heavy loss, that reminds me how lucky I am that my Mom is still here with me. [caption id="attachment_2351" align="alignleft" width="242" caption="I love this picture of Mom & Me"][/caption] So that's what I'm grateful for tonite: I'm grateful for my own Mom. I'm grateful for all the gifts she's given me, including my love of reading and my love of constantly learning. I'm grateful for the fact that she raised me to be compassionate and -- probably much to her chagrin -- independent. Mostly, I am grateful that she's still here with me in this world ... because, despite what she probably thinks ... her love and support mean the world to me. Okay ... time for me to buckle down and watch Women's Figure Skating. And maybe ... just maybe ... I'll break out that cowbell!

~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~

Well. There goes my chance to belt out "Oh Canada" ... but hey, at least Joannie medalled! I'm very happy for her!!

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Emily — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 05:16:47 +0000

404

Emily — Fri, 26 Feb 2010 05:20:04 +0000

Dedicated

Emily — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 03:10:55 +0000

I am so dedicated to completing the month of posting daily (although I started to lose the whole "Ties" theme midway through), that I'm currently writing this with my eyes half-closed. I'm so looking forward to this weekend, just so I can catch some Zzzz's. Not only have I stayed up late pretty much every night since the Olympics, but it feels as if I've been running non-stop at work this past week. Needless to say, I am exhausted. So before I literally fall asleep with my head on the laptop keyboard, let's get down to business: Today's "Good Deed" for the day involved speaking with one of those interesting homeless guys on the streets of Chicago. Because Hubby had a conference until 4:30 downtown, we made plans to meet at the local Borders Bookstore after I got off work. And since I had enough of work today, I left my office a half hour earlier (with the blessing of Big Boss, of course) And as I stood outside the store patiently waiting for Hubby, this completely harmless Homeless Guy (HG) came up to me and started talking with me. Now, normally I would give any stranger that came up to me (let alone one that appeared to have bathed in liquor) a rather disparaging look and dismiss him or her. But since it was Friday, and HG appeared friendly enough, I decided to humor him. After about 10 minutes of bantering back and forth about me being "full of it" (he didn't believe I was married) and about trying his best to do what he thinks is right ... Hubby finally showed up; probably much to this guy's chagrin. And after a brief three-way conversation, HG reluctantly let Hubby & I go on our merry way. Of course, Hubby had to tease me about how he couldn't leave me alone for a minute; that I always seem to attract the opposite sex ... of which I immediately corrected him by saying that I always seemed to attract the "best" of the bunch. Hah! At the very least, I hope I provided HG a little bright spot in his day. I'm sure that most people either ignore him as they walk on by. Or they do what I normally do on any given day. Sometimes I think that people just want to be heard, so I'd like to think I indulged him with that opportunity. As for what I'm thankful for today? Since I'm so frickin' exhausted, I'm just quite happy that one thing I get to "indulge" in every weekend is the ability to sleep in or wake up on my own time. If there's any bright spot about living child-free after infertility, this is definitely one of them! Okay, that's it. I'm done for the night. Hope you all have a wonderful Friday night ... and may you all have the opportunity to sleep in. Even if it's just for a bit!!

The End is Nigh

Emily — Sun, 28 Feb 2010 01:16:38 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2360" align="alignright" width="182" caption="Never saw a sign like this until Cannon Beach, OR"][/caption] Wow ... I'm writing on the eve of my last daily entry for the month. The end is actually near! Can't believe I survived yet another month of posting every day ... actually, I can't believe that I signed up to write for another 36 days until Easter Monday. Eesh. I'm wondering if I have enough "Good Deeds" in me to last that long ... As it is, I'm thinking that some of the good deeds I do are rather ... lame or trivial. But I suppose doing something is better than nothing. Today, Hubby & I slept in. Good G*D, it felt good to sleep in. And although I know that this is a luxury that most other people aren't able to do (read: those with kids), I figure that this is something that I can at least add to the (very short) list of positive things that infertility has given me. But that was last night's item of gratitude. Let's see ... what other thing about infertility can I be grateful for? Well, seeing that Hubby & I spent the afternoon at the grocery store ... I guess I can say that I'm grateful that Hubby & I only have to worry about buying groceries for ourselves. Because somedays I'm just amazed how much two weeks of groceries can cost for just two people. Imagine if we had more than our two mouths to feed? As it is ... our dollar is stretched tightly these days. Or as one of my co-workers said, "There's still too much month at the end of our money."** So yeah ... that's what I'm grateful for today. [caption id="" align="alignleft" width="304" caption="Surfing the web tonight regarding the latest catastrophes"][/caption] Good Deed? That one's a toughy today. Probably mostly because I'm (if you can't tell by now) not exactly in the most "giving" mood today. And I suppose if I had to name a "good deed" today, it would be that I withstood listening to a rather awful poetry reading group while at Borders tonight. (Boy, am I snarky today!) Don't get me wrong, me love me some good cultural and creative vibe ... and, if I was being honest, I'd say that a few were pretty good. But ... well, yeah. I'll just leave it at that. One of the "readings" had to do with the whole "2010 End of the World" deal. Which, given the fact that I just mentioned above that *I* had another "ending" in site, is rather funny. (Babbling, I know. But I'm talking about NaBloPoMo for February.) But as this guy talked about wars and earthquakes, I couldn't help but think of the most recent events of late. Like today ... the earthquake in Chile. And the Tsunami warnings for Hawaii and all the other Pacific Islands (including the Philippines). Or even the recent iceberg collision that caused one of them to break off a huge piece into the ocean; which may cause, what some scientists believe, a disruption in the ocean's circulation and therefore disrupting marine life. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="277" caption="Original 1900's shot of Crowfoot Glacier"][/caption] Just over five years ago was the major tsunami in India. In 2007, there was the glacial lake (in Chile, of all places) that completely disappeared. Even when we went to the Canadian Rockies two years ago, we saw with our own eyes, how much the Crowfoot Glacier had melted. Then there was last month's devastating earthquake in Haiti; of which a team member of mine lost family in that tragedy. And just two weeks ago, an earthquake here. In Chicago. I'm not a firm believer in the whole 2012 theory that the end of the world will be on December 21st of that year. However ... I do think that something will happen that will cause the world's population to change in some way. Whatever that "thing" is ... it will probably require a major paradigm shift in the way that the world operates today. [caption id="" align="alignleft" width="284" caption="A shot of the same Glacier (by yours truly) in 2008. Notice the bottom "claw" has melted away?"][/caption] Because seriously ... at the rate that these devastating events are coming***, I just might have to expect swarms of locusts followed by the Four Horsemen. Okay, depressing post done with for the day. Let's hope for a better one tomorrow.

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** Sadly, it's the end of the month (a short one, at that) and POOF! All that money's gone. *** Anybody else notice how more and more frequently these "natural" disasters are coming at us?!

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Emily — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 00:09:55 +0000

Not Gold, but ...

Emily — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 00:13:36 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2377" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Goalie Miller, after the OT Gold-winning goal by Team Canada"][/caption] Whew. I can breathe again. What. A. Hockey Game!! Of course, it wasn't the outcome that I wanted ... but it was sooo exciting! AND, at least I got to practice singing the Canadian National Anthem. And I'm sure that Loribeth & Mrs. Spit are more than happy to see their National Team win. AND that the entire nation of Canada can now breathe a sigh of relief. But still ... would have been nice to see the US, the underdogs in the tourney, win. Would have been nice to see the MVP, Ryan Miller (and someone with Michigan ties, to boot) get the gold. Well, at least Canada's team was built and coached by all those Detroit Red Wing staff! ;-) At least Canada can, once again, continue claim that that Hockey is still *THE* Canadian sport. Next to Lacrosse, anyway. But just like hockey, that sport has historically been more popular in Canada than in the US (although it's gained much more popularity since Hubby played back in high school). [caption id="attachment_2384" align="alignleft" width="162" caption="Yami doesn't want the Olympics to end, either ..."][/caption] I guess ... well, I guess it's the Red Wing fan in me that just reaallly doesn't like Cindy -- oops, I mean Sidney Crosby. Don't get me wrong, he's talented and incredible. BUT ... this goes back to the whole "this is a team sport and not a Superstar-plus-Team sport." And Crosby? Well, in the NHL, he's that "Superstar" that the league seems to be banking on; placing all their proverbial eggs in the basket. I know that it's not necessarily his fault that the media places him in such a huge spotlight, but yet I've never seen him redirect the emphasis back on the team and teamwork. Who knows? Maybe he has ... and I just have never seen it.

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With that out of my system, tonight is officially the last night of the Olympics. But more importantly, tonight is the last night for February's NaBloPoMo. Which means that I've officially posted a blog entry a day for the past 28 days. While it's not an Olympic Medal, at least I can put this "medal of honor" on my blog. And well, hey; since I still am going to be posting daily until Easter, which is April 5th this year, I might as well just sign myself up for March's NaBloPoMo. But before I do, let's at least finish up on this entry: Good Deed O'The Day. This one is a "good deed" (if I can call it that) for myself; which, and follow me here, will ultimately be a good deed for those that I work with. And that good deed is this: I did NOT do any work today, or any day this weekend. In fact, I mostly relaxed this weekend (with the exception of grocery shopping, of course). While it seems like a rather "selfish" good deed, I know that this is a deed that needed to be done. Quite frankly, I've been running myself ragged since the end of December and working pretty much 7 days a week. And even though I'm not quite working the whole 8 hours on the weekend, the fact that I am doing anything work-related on those days I should be relaxing is a sign that I'm overworking. SO ... by doing nothing but things I liked to do these two days allows me to unwind a bit so that I'm charged up and ready for the next week. [caption id="attachment_2386" align="alignleft" width="214" caption="I think Rain looks better in a tiara than Julia Mancuso"][/caption] Gratitude and Thanks: As I mentioned before, things have been pretty tight with our monthly expenses. Having both a monthly rent and mortgage payment has been killing us. And seeing as the housing market in Detroit ain't turning around any time soon, we don't see any resolution with this issue in the near future. SO ... what I'm grateful for right now is that: #1, I have a job during these difficult economic times; and #2, I have family that love and support us. Because if it wasn't for all that they provide, Hubby & I wouldn't be able to pick ourselves up and forge forward during this difficult period. So there it is. Last post of February. Look out, March! Here I come!

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Emily — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 03:04:42 +0000

Identity Theft

Emily — Tue, 02 Mar 2010 03:05:38 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2401" align="alignright" width="182" caption="Big "L" for Lame Blog Friend"][/caption] Since I've been blogging a lot recently, I've been trying to make an effort to "socialize" more. I admit that I am decent at writing posts, but not so great about commenting on other reader's posts or comments in regards to my posts. If it makes anybody feel better ... I'm pretty much consistent with responding on Facebook and Twitter! Anyhoo ... I've been trying to read and comment on those blogs of people who I've been following since the beginning and who have followed me through those difficult years. There are three gals that I wish we could all get together in the same room and just shoot the sh*t; two I've met IRL and one ... well, she has always been such a bright spot in my day. Don't get me wrong. I've met and have gotten pretty close to those other bloggers out there; it's just that these three gals ... well, I think there's just something about them that seem to tie us all together (had to get one last February NaBloPoMo theme in ... even though it's March). And even though our shared bond was/is infertility, this friendship seems to have gone beyond it. So even though I had "disappeared" there for a bit (I blame no one but myself), I'm trying to make sure I keep these friendships up.

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I'm also branching out and trying to "socialize" with new bloggers. In the midst of writing daily, I've noticed that I had more "followers" and "lurkers" than I thought I did. (Thank you WordPress Blog Stats!) So yes, I've been trying to follow these bloggers and comment on their posts as well. One of those new bloggie friends wrote a post about stigma and "spoiled identity" as it relates to her life and her struggles with infertility. And as I read her post, I realized that I had never quite described that feeling of social isolation and exclusion as being stigmatized. Or that feeling of not being able to contribute to conversations about child-rearing or pregnancy as being "socially discredited." But that's exactly what had happened in my IF journey. It's funny how I can learn new things, new perspectives from others going through what I had already gone through. Which, when going through my journey, I would have probably found any new point of view either comforting ... or annoying. Comforting, only if the person shared my same point of view or emotions. And annoying, if the person brought up something that hit a little too close to my soul ... and sometimes (quite honestly) below the belt. But reading these new perspectives now, after coming to terms with my own journey, they're ... well, refreshing. And, given what I learned today about my identity during that journey, I'd like to think I'm still learning about my IF journey, even if I'm no longer on that path.

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These three "original" IF friends ... we're all on different journeys now than when we first "met" via our own separate blogs. One of us is currently pregnant and two of us are currently off that crazy train called infertility. And one ... well, one is at a point in her IF journey where I was at for so long. But despite the fact that we're no longer on that shared path of IF, we're still in a shared journey together. We're still trying to provide support to one another. All of us have been stigmatized by infertility. All of us have been robbed of the "identity" that we thought we'd have by now. All of us have experienced the feeling of being excluded (whether purposefully or not) from certain baby-related conversations or events. Yet all of us have managed to find comfort from one another. All of us have managed to forge a NEW identity amongst ourselves ... outside of our infertility. Because even though we may have had / still have a "spoiled identity" amongst other people in our own real lives, we've found that amongst us ... our opinions matter. And our voices are allowed to be heard.

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[caption id="attachment_2404" align="alignleft" width="188" caption="My version of "The Grudge""][/caption] Daily Random Act of Kindness: Let's see; today my "good deed" for today was more of an exercise of patience. Let me set up the scene: When I left work on Friday, it just happened that one of my team members was not very happy with the outcome of a conversation I had with her and the rest of my team earlier in the afternoon. Now, historically ... this particular team member is known to hold grudges; and before I could approach her about the issue again last Friday, she had left for the day. Needless to say, I dreaded going in to work today; knowing full well that I'd feel the wrath of The Grudge. And sure enough, when I made my "morning rounds" to say good morning to my team, all I got from this team member was a grunt. It took a few tries, but I finally got her to say more than five words to me by mid-morning. And by the afternoon, she was finally back to her normal self. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="209" caption="A "Robert Smith" version of me in HS"][/caption] While I know I needed to resolve the issue with this team member (seeing as I had to continue working with her and, well ... supervising her), I think -- or rather, I feel that I went above and beyond (and definitely out of my way) to get her to come around. So yeah. I consider the patience I had with this team member my good deed of the day. Daily Gratitude: Today I am grateful for bloggie friends; both old and new. If it wasn't for you ... I think I would have totally lost my identity. But you guys ... well, you guys have kept me grounded.

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On a completely (un)related note, today marks the first day of NaBloPoMo March. For those of you that aren't familiar with what NaBloPoMo is, click here to read more. The theme for March is Strange(r). So my posts can be about strange (or stranger) tidbits of information or situations or stories. Or it can be about strangers; as in, "Strangers in the night." Yet again, it's a vague theme which I'm not necessarily held to writing about. However, seeing that today's post talked about complete strangers that have become close bloggie friends, and about new strangers that I've just met ... it looks as if it fits into this month's theme. Much more to come in the following month ...

The Not-So-Good Wife

Emily — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 01:41:52 +0000

Grams from "Dawson's Creek" has come along way. So has Carol Hathaway from Cook County's "ER". Come to think of it, so has Mr. Big ... well, actually he's just a recurring special guest star. Yeah, amongst the other TV shows I've picked up this year is NBC's "The Good Wife." Now, I admit that I started watching it because I've always loved Juliana Marguiles since her days on ER. And I must admit that I like seeing the Chicago skyline on the small screen. What I didn't realize until I watched the season premiere was that this was a lawyer show. And me love me some lawyer shows. It must be some inherent need for me to live vicariously through these shows. Or maybe it's just that Hollywood makes it look so glamorous. But regardless, I love listening to lawyers debate. Well, at least in court; where there's a formality to their arguments. You see, I'm not good at arguing. In fact, I'm pretty bad at it. [caption id="attachment_2412" align="alignleft" width="190" caption="Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."][/caption] Oh, I can hold a conversation and find logic in arguing a point. I can even concede if the opposition has a strong rationale for their position. But throw emotion into it? Well yeah, then I'm a mess. And let's face it, unless there's that formal structure for debate ... when isn't there a situation where emotions eventually come to play? So yeah. I suck at arguing. I have no other reason for bringing this point up other than the fact that I love Juliana Marguiles' character on "The Good Wife." Somehow her character, despite her own personal mess, always manages to find a way to keep her emotions in check. And I really wish I had the talent to do that. Guess that means I better cross "lawyer" off the list of possible new careers ...

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And now ... back to the task at hand. Random Act of Kindness: I can't believe I actually did this; especially since some days I still feel like I'm still a "tourist" in the city of Chicago. But yes, I *actually* managed to give restaurant recommendations to some visitors attending a conference in the nearby Hyatt Regency. I stumbled on the poor souls on my way out of the building this evening and they just looked so pitifully lost. So I took it upon myself to ask them if they needed any assistance ... and, yeah ... little ol' me managed to help them. Yee-haw!! [caption id="" align="alignright" width="212" caption="Because only a "Good Wife" would put such a *great* picture of her Hubby ..."][/caption] Thanks & Gratitude: Can I tell you how much I love my Hubby? Not only does he drive me to work everyday (so I don't have to feel all rushed and exhausted just getting to work), but he also manages to meet me every day at the El Station with our Kozzy-girl just so he can walk me home. AND ... the poor guy is so awesome that he not only cooked dinner tonite (and most nights) but he also cleaned the cats' litter. And if there's any chore I hate to do the most ... it would be cleaning that litter. So thank you VERY MUCH, oh dear Hubby of mine. Much much love from your Not-So-Good Wife.

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Emily — Wed, 03 Mar 2010 04:34:36 +0000

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Proud Pet Owner

Emily — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 01:21:41 +0000

There's this high school in Chicago with an incredibly large lawn right down at the end of our street. It kinda like the "old skool" schools that remind me of Rydell High from "Grease." [caption id="attachment_2423" align="alignright" width="239" caption="Official Clubhouse for the DEC"][/caption] In any case, the huge lawn of this school also serves as a dog park. It comes in pretty handy when we've gotta take our Kozzy-girl out for her "business." But not so great when there's a whole gaggle of other dogs out there as well. As I've mentioned in previous posts, our Kozzy is not exactly the most socially adept dog. Both with strangers and with other dogs. With us, she's the sweetest affable dog around ... but with others, she's such a nervous nelly; which in turn makes her aggressive. So yeah, she's not exactly welcomed at the dog park. In fact, Hubby & I have a name for the group of pets and their owners. We call them the DEC. Or the Doggy Exclusive Club. Of which Kozzy & her owners are not members. But thanks to unyielding patience on both our parts and the help of tips from watching "The Dog Whisperer," Kozzy has made a breakthrough tonight. That's right, peeps; I think Kozzy actually made a doggy friend. And it happens to be this fluff-ball of a puppy that belongs to the family in the apartment building a few houses down. It's a good thing this furball is the antithesis of Kozzy; he's friendly and verrry non-aggressive. So much that Kozzy actually let him sniff her and let Kozzy sniff him ... all without any growling or barking! I KNOW! I was sooo amazed! Of course, after that ... I just had to test out the DEC. And, unfortunately ... the amount of pets and pet owners at the park must have overwhelmed our Kozzy. Which, of course, resulted in Kozzy being overly anxious and overly aggressive. But ... at least I managed to calm her down before heading back home. Despite that little hiccup at the end, I am so proud of my Kozzy-girl. It's taken awhile, but I think she's finally adjusting to city life!

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And now for the Daily Lenten Special: Good Deed Du jour: The first Wednesday of the month is typically "Free Inservice Day" at work. It's where our Clinical Trainers arrange for some sort of vendor to come out and present on a healthcare-related topic. With that comes free Continuing Education Units (CEU) to keep up with our Nursing License and Certification for Case Manager. Oh, and lunch is usually provided as well. However, the amount of food that's provided is usually waaay too much for me to eat in one setting ... so I tend to either share it with someone or bring it home. Today I decided to give the other half of my chicken pita sandwich and cookies to someone else who needed it. And that would be the homeless guy that happened to be sitting outside of the Borders Bookstore on Michigan Avenue. I'm sure this guy probably gets a lot of handouts throughout the day, but at least I know that I've given food to someone who could use it. [caption id="attachment_2424" align="alignleft" width="217" caption="And here's my Kozzy-girl!!"][/caption] Gratitude Du jour: Even though I already expressed gratitude for having Kozzy in our lives; today I am thankful for all the things that having to care for Kozzy has taught me. While patience is the number one thing that Kozzy has taught me, there's another important lesson I've learned for her. Because of Kozzy, I've learned how my emotions and moods affect others. With humans, it's not as blatantly obvious to see how an anxious or bad mood can affect other people around you. With pets ... dogs, in particular ... they can pick up on emotions right away. If I'm happy and excited, then chances are Kozzy is the same. And when I'm angry or anxious ... well, you bet that Kozzy starts exhibiting her anxiety. And because of this exercise, I've learned to be more conscious of how my disposition affects others. So thank you Kozzy, for that lesson.

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Emily — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 05:29:04 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 04 Mar 2010 05:36:23 +0000

Rearly Used

Emily — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 03:09:09 +0000

Quick note tonight, and it will be all about my Lenten promise. Too busy working on a presentation for work. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="151" caption=""Oh. My. God, Becky ... Look at that butt!" "] [/caption] So without dragging it on ... Good Deed of the Day: Apparently my ba-donk actually has a use. Well, other than keeping my tush all cushy. In the lunch room at work today, and as I was heating up my lunch ... I heard an exasperated sigh behind me. As I turned around, I saw a poor soul was trying to get her pack of M&M's she just bought from the vending machine. As I looked closer, I could see that the M&M's were hanging on the metal coil that held them in place until it was purchased. Of course neither of us had change to buy another pack, so we did the next best thing ... which was to bang on the vending machine. When that didn't work, I did my best hockey hip-and-butt check to knock it down. And down went the bag of M&M's. So yeah ... form and function! Thankful Thought of the Day: Because it's been sunny for the past couple of days (and the forecast for the weekend looks the same ... ), I am so grateful that it's officially 16 days left of winter. I am SO ready for spring!! That's it for the night everyone. Have a ... Oops, sorry. Have a wonderful night!

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Emily — Fri, 05 Mar 2010 07:20:07 +0000

Spare Parts

Emily — Sat, 06 Mar 2010 03:43:11 +0000

I actually started writing this post on my iPhone on the drive from Chicago to Detroit. Ah ... The wonders of modern technology! [caption id="attachment_2461" align="alignright" width="230" caption="Click on to the picture to find out about this "store front""][/caption] Typically on the 5-hour drive, Hubby usually gets the "honor" of being behind the wheel. And there's something about his driving that usually lulls me to sleep. But today, despite staying up late last night and putting in a six-hour work day, I'm surprisingly wide awake. Maybe it's the Real Fruit Berry Slushie from the Sonic in K-zoo? Nah ... In the past, whenever we'd go on long road trips, Hubby & I would make it an event. We'd stack up the CD's and pack some snacks and have so much fun. And in between Van Morrison and CCR songs** Hubby and I would have these incredible conversations about our life together, our future, and our hopes & dreams. Not that we still don't have awesome conversations now on our round-trips between Chi-Town and Motown; it's just that they don't always happen during every trip ... Especially with Hubby's uncanny ability to make me so nice and relaxed when he does the driving. And because those conversations were really in the earlier years of our relationship, there was more to find out about one another. There was more about us, as individuals, to share. There were more dreams of the ideal future to discuss. There was none of those shared worries or disappointments. There was no shared heartbreaks for futures that weren't realized. There was only hope. It's because of those things that these awesome conversations happen less ... But when they do, they are so much more exciting and fun. Today, Hubby & I had one of those fun conversations. Since learning more web apps, he's been dying to either a) start up and design his own blog, or b) take my blog and move it to my own domain so that he can have all the fun in playing around with it while designing it. Now I'm totally for Option B here*** but I'd also love to see Hubby write his own blog as well. Anyway, a couple days we were trying to come up with potential names for his blog. Unfortunately, we never came up with any that would "stick." Today on the drive to Detroit, I came up with a name that I thought would make for a great new blog title ... For me. Except when I told Hubby about it, he thought that I was talking about a blog title for him. The title? "Spare Parts" which would have been great for an infertile living child-free like me, who still has all her lady parts. Except ... well, except they just don't work. So yeah. Spare. Parts. Hubby, on the other hand, thought that I was talking about a blog name for him, where he's just the "spare part" to me. In which he proceeded to say to me, "What does that mean? That I'm so old and broken? And that I'm replaceable? For newer parts?" He was serious, and yet I couldn't help but laugh. "Of course not," I told him. "I was talking about myself!" and then I explained to him the reason I came up with the name. But that still didn't stop Hubby from calling himself as "Spare Part" for the rest of our drive home. Or referring to particular Hubby behaviors as a "Spare Part" behavior. Like, for instance, the fact that he has a tendency to ask multiple questions at one time as "Spare Part questions." Or heading in the wrong direction towards the freeway as "Spare Part directions." Later on that night, as we were closer to home I told him that he was irreplaceable. That there was only one Hubby for me. And if anything, I was the one who was replaceable ... with my broken parts. And of course he told me that *I* had no spare parts; that I was perfect the way I am. Most importantly, he told me this: The two of us separately can be seen as "spare parts." But together ... well, that just makes us whole.

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Now ... for my daily Lenten activities: Today's Good Deed: At work, I had scheduled a vendor meeting for my entire team (not my first choice of days during the week). This, unfortunately meant that my telecommuters had to come in to the office for the day. Hubby gave me the brilliant idea of bringing in some treats for the team. So we stopped off at Dunkin' Donuts on the way to the office and picked up a dozen donuts; for no other reason other than to celebrate that it was Friday and that we were all together in the office. The best part? As I stepped out of the elevator, three of my team members were waiting to climb on to go down for a morning snack. And guess what they were going to buy? That's right peeps ... donuts! Hubby obviously had a sixth sense about stopping for this particular snack. Today's Gratitude: Every time we go back to Metro-Detroit, we make it a ritual to meet up with our friend, J. And of course, we try to meet up at our favorite local tavern for some good burgers. Tonight was no exception to our meet-up, but ... being a (questionably) good Catholic, I refrained from eating meat on a Friday during Lent. (I know! What restraint!!) I may have mentioned in previous posts that we consider J one of our closest friends; so today I'm grateful for this friendship and the incredible conversations we have whenever we get together. So that's it for today ... it's actually quite late as I'm finishing up this post. Truth be told, it's already Saturday early morning ... but since I technically didn't sleep yet ... this is still Friday's post. And that's how I'm going to date it. So there.

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** Because there's something about those classic rock songs that just make you wanna sing them at the top of our lungs while driving long distances ... *** Hey, why not?! It'd be relatively free for me!

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Fourteen!

Emily — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 03:59:53 +0000

[caption id="attachment_670" align="alignright" width="113" caption="Tyler around 10 months old"][/caption] This afternoon, I got to spend some quality time with all of my in-laws ... and particularly my nephew and niece.You see, the real reason we came to Detroit this weekend was to celebrate our nephew's 14th birthday (which is actually next Friday, but he'll be at his dad's). Fourteen! Where the h*ll has the time gone? It seems like just last year that I was still working as a staff nurse at the hospital where he was born. Where I was the lucky person who got to change his first stinky diaper. And it feels like only a year ago when we put this cute little baby in a stock pot and gave him a wooden spoon to bang on the pot. [caption id="attachment_2475" align="alignleft" width="240" caption="Tyler at 6 with Hubby holding him on carousel"][/caption] I swear it was just last week when Hubby & I were in Florida with him, watching his fascination of Spiderman grow when we visited Universal Studios Islands of Adventure. And only a week since he finally "outgrew" his favorite "Froggy." Now he's taller than me and has facial hair ... And his voice has suddenly grown deeper! All this ... and he starts high school next year!! [caption id="attachment_2476" align="alignright" width="151" caption="Tyler at 10 years old"][/caption] It's only a matter of time that his interest in hanging out with his Auntie Em and Uncle will wane; where he'll want to spend more time with his friends than with his family. And only a few years until he starts Driver's Training (yikes!). But for now ... well, I'll enjoy seeing the excitement he has whenever we walk into the room; especially after not seeing each other for a period of time. And I'll I'll treasure every moment he wants to spend with us; every kiss and hug and cuddle he wants to give us ... because I know it'll only be a matter of time when it won't be "cool" to do that anymore. Happy (Early) Birthday, dear nephew of mine!

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[caption id="attachment_2477" align="alignleft" width="183" caption="Tyler today. He'll be 14 this Friday!"][/caption] Daily Gratitude: Today's is obvious. I'm thankful for the love and affection that our nephew has for us. Daily Good Deed: Strange, but I find it harder to do a Random Daily Good Deed when here in Metro Detroit. Maybe it's because we're pretty much isolated from being in our car driving from destination to destination rather than walking around outside in the city. I suppose the only good deed I can truly think that I've done was to pick up a random baby toy that I found on the floor of the local Barnes & Noble and return it to the father with the baby stroller that was a few aisle down from where I was. Okay that's it for today ... erm, rather early in the morning on Sunday. But you guys don't need to know that I'm backing up the date to late Saturday night, do you?! [caption id="attachment_2478" align="aligncenter" width="374" caption="Tyler blows out his candles while baby sister watches"][/caption]

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Emily — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 16:00:14 +0000

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Emily — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 19:26:57 +0000

Freshly Laundered

Emily — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 19:31:05 +0000

It's ... oh, 1 pm Detroit time. Hubby & I should already be in the car heading back to Chicago but alas, we're still finishing up the last two loads laundry here. [caption id="attachment_2483" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Cutie-Pie Kairi during this visit. Her bib says "Teething Bites!""][/caption] What can I say? If we had to keep our house here, we might as well get use out of our in-home washer and dryer while we can. Because laundromats are great for getting multiple loads done at one time ... but there's nothing that beats being in your own house while your clothes are being washed! Yeah, we should have spent all of yesterday evening doing the laundry, but instead we did other things. Like ... see "Alice In Wonderland" in 3D. With our friend, J. Who came with us afterward to grab some food. And well, next thing we know it's close to midnight again. And we've got an early morning breakfast date with my parents. Seriously, I love coming back to Detroit and spending time with family and friends. But by the time the weekend's over, I'm exhausted . SO ... since I'll be spending the evening driving home, I figure I'd post my daily Lenten "duties" for the day. Good Deed of the Day: Not sure if this would be considered a "good deed," but Hubby stayed up later than I did working on a creative job. His good deed was to "finish" doing the laundry while I slept, but somehow I knew that wasn't going to happen.** But since he climbed into bed pretty late (just after he was done with this job ... while "waiting for the dryer to go off," as he said ... ) and we had to be up and out the door by 7:30 am, I let him sleep up until the time we had to leave to meet my parents for breakfast. And now ... after returning home, I'm letting him nap some more while I work on finishing up the rest of the laundry. Like I said, not sure if this is really a "good deed." After all ... he's the one that's going to be driving us home, and I'd rather him be alert while behind the wheel. Gratitude of the Day: Well, since we're still home ... no sense in not turning on the TV. To watch the Detroit Red Wings. Take on the Chicago Blackhawks. After all, it's soooo much better watching it on TV instead of trying to find a radio station to listen to the game on the drive home. GO WINGS!! Woops ... well, there goes the dryer. Time to do more folding ...

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** Especially since both of us had been up late the night before and up early the next morning. And he was working on this creative job.

Mad as a Milliner

Emily — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 01:40:13 +0000

There's a good portion of me that believes I'm mad. Not mad, as in angry ... Rather mad, as in crazy. And I don't necessarily think it's a bad thing either. As I mentioned in a previous post, I recently saw "Alice in Wonderland" with Hubby and our friend, J. And as we usually do after seeing a movie, we went out to eat so we could discuss our review of the movie. While all of us agreed that the movie had some stunning visuals a la-Tim Burton style, we varied in our overall assessment in the movie. But, as I know that Hubby and J will likely write their own review of "Alice in Wonderland" ... I'll stick to my own review. Simply put, I love pretty much all Tim Burton films. Well, except for "The Corpse Bride" and that's only because I haven't seen it yet. All of the movies have a certain charm to them, with characters that you can't help but like. "Alice in Wonderland" also has this bit of charm; Helena Bonham-Carter is excellent as the Queen of Hearts ... I love that she's this wicked queen with insecurity issues and a need to be loved. And Alice? Well I just totally fell in love with her. She's smart. She's brave. And she's a little "mad" herself. However, the movie has a few shortcomings; things that kill me to admit... While I love Johnny Depp's performance of the Mad Hatter, I just didn't get a good sense of character development. The same goes for Anne Hathaway's White Queen.** But who knows? Maybe the DVD/Blu-Ray release will reveal more scenes that were cut from the final version of the film. And while the ending is predictable (which movies aren't anymore?), it would have been nice to see ... or rather feel ... more trepidation or angst leading up to the finale. And as much as it pains me to say this ... There's this bit part at the end involving the Mad Hatter that just seems altogether strange; at least in the anticlimactic timing of it. Yet despite these shortcomings, it's the overall message that this film provides that has me loving this film. In particular, it's the opening scene that stole my heart. This scene begins with Alice's father passionately discussing the expansion of his "business," outlining a trade route that, to his investors, sounded like an impossible feat. As he does this, he notices a young Alice in the doorway of his office. It's late at night and Alice apparently woke up from a nightmare. So Alice's dad excuses himself and brings Alice back up to her room and tucks her back in, all while Alice tells him about her strange nightmare that involved a talking rabbit and a mischievously grinning cat. Afterwards, she asks her father whether or not she's gone mad. In which, her father touches her forehead and says, "I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers." "But I'll tell you a secret," Alice's father adds, while Alice looked at him completely stunned. "All the best people are." It's this message that gets carried throughout this film; the perception that Alice should not have to settle in life. Nor that she should be afraid to believe in herself. Whether it's about accepting a marriage proposal to someone she doesn't love ... or whether it's about believing that she is smart and brave in every day life. It's about believing that she can be a little "bonkers" but still be strong. And that's the part of the movie that I can best relate to. That sometimes the craziest moments in life can also be the most rewarding.

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Daily Lenten Good Deed: Nothing beats finding money on the floor. Of course, if you just happen to see who dropped it ... and that person wasn't aware of the missing moolah ... who'd know that it was you that took it? My conscience would. Which is why I did what any good person would do, which was let the person know that his cash had dropped out of his pocket.

[caption id="attachment_434" align="alignleft" width="236" caption="Hubby is *MY* Mad Hatter!"][/caption] Daily Lenten Thanks: After spending a weekend away from my other furbabies*** ... I always miss them something fierce by the time I return home to them. And their constant need to cuddle with me for the first couple of days afterwards tells me that they missed me too. Today I'm so thankful I've got these two furballs that provide me with all the unconditional love their little kitty hearts can give.

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** Although I admit that I've never completely read Lewis Carroll's series of books on Alice; nor have I watched any movie versions. So maybe this is why I feel the lack of character development in this movie. *** Because the third furbaby, Kozzy, always gets to come along on the five-hour car rides to and from Detroit.

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Emily — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 05:17:47 +0000

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Emily — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 05:22:18 +0000

Such a Gleek

Emily — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 01:19:21 +0000

Although this post is not directly related to completely geeky pictures of me, I figured I might be able to get away with linking this to Aunt Becky's latest game. After all, these are pretty lame high school pictures of me ...

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It's Tuesday night and I'm watching a rerun of one of my other new favorite TV show, "Glee." [caption id="attachment_2514" align="alignright" width="232" caption="Yeah ... the caption underneath says it all!"][/caption] I know what it must seem: that I have no life other than watching TV or movies, Facebooking, and blogging. Which, in addition to work, is pretty much accurate. But I'm okay with that. Really. Anyway, I love "Glee" because it reminds me so much of being in high school and the search for belonging to something. Not that I belonged to one particular group or another back then. Even though I had my core group of friends, I managed to surprisingly float amongst all cliques. But "Glee"? It brings me back to Varsity Choir and Drama Club. It reminds me of the days where a good friend, K and I used to hang out in the Sophomore hallway listening to some Dead Milkmen and Bauhaus on our Walkmans. It also reminds me of the days where a couple other friends and I used to harmonize quite a few early Depeche Mode and Erasure songs. But mostly "Glee" reminds me of one of the other things I love to do, which is sing. I blame it on my parents need to record me singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (and hitting Dr. Bro on his head with the mic) at the age of four.** And the whole early-edition karaoke machine we had in the mid-80's. [caption id="attachment_2512" align="alignleft" width="196" caption="Yep, "Gleeky" Emily (front and center) in Varsity Choir"][/caption] In any case, there's been this ongoing fake pregnancy story line between the Glee Club faculty advisor, Will Schuster and his wife, Terri. This couple had been together since high school and have, for years, been trying to start their family. While one would think this infertility story would be one that I would've liked, it actually annoyedme more than anything. But thank G*d, the "fake pregnancy" story finally resolved with the "winter finale" this past December. Unfortunately, it ended with Will leaving his wife after all the lies she weaved. Watching the repeat of this episode tonight, I was reminded of a line that Terri Schuster said as she made her case to "win" Will back. She said:

"It's just ... I wanted so many things that I know we're never going to have. But that was okay; as long as I still had you."

And the thing is, when I heard this crazy woman say those words ... I completely understood her. I understood what it meant to do anything that I could to have a family with my Hubby. And I understood how much it would mean to me to share these things ... these experiences ... with my Hubby. But the difference between Terri Schuster and me is that I would never lie to my Hubby at the risk of losing him.

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And now for my Lenten acts. [caption id="" align="alignright" width="201" caption="Senior Year ... Future SIL and I were SOOO cool! LOL!"][/caption] Random Act of Kindness Du Jour: It's been a strange couple weeks at work regarding staff member's families. Last week, one of my new Case Manager's father passed away. And this week, another one of my Case Manager's sisters unexpectedly passed on. To show our sympathies, our department typically sends flowers. Which is nice ... but that's not the good deed for today. My good deed surrounds speaking one on one with the staff member whose sister passed away. This same staff member, who received the news yesterday at work, still came in to work this morning. When I spoke with her, I asked her how she felt and how she was coping. And yes, I offered to let her go home at any time. However, this staff member told me that it was probably best that she work so as to keep her mind off of the situation surrounding her surviving family members. When I pressed just a little further, I managed to get her to open up more. Without going into details, basically what I did was provide her with the support she needed as she wasn't really getting it from anywhere else. And, while it didn't make her feel a 100% better, at least I know I provided her with some comfort. Gratitude Du Jour: I can't tell you how grateful I am that Hubby drives me to work in the mornings. First of all, it allows me to arrive at work feeling less sticky and out of breath. Second, it allows me to feel less rushed in trying to make the El train in the morning. But most of all ... well, it just allows me to sleep in for just a few moments longer. And anybody that knows me, knows that I love my sleep! And with that said ... I'm officially off to bed. G'Night all!!

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** Seriously, there is tape-recorded evidence of this!

[caption id="attachment_2513" align="aligncenter" width="427" caption="I was even a Drama Club chairperson (again, front and center)"][/caption]

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Emily — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 06:08:15 +0000

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Emily — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 06:14:39 +0000

Boy, Lost.

Emily — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 02:37:55 +0000

Today a Lost Boy died. It’s sad to know that more people … more celebrities around my age are dying. First there was Brittany Murphy, who died from complications stemming from pneumonia and a history of a heart murmur. Then there was Andrew Koenig, “Boner” of “Growing Pains” fame, who died under mysterious circumstances. And now Corey Haim from an apparent drug overdose. Corey Haim’s death hits a little close to home for a couple of reasons. One is that he is the same age as I am. Now, mind you, I don’t have any drug addictions and probably other medical conditions associated with chronic drug use, but the fact that a celebrity my age has died … well, that just makes me feel less and less invincible; which is very much unlike in my early 20’s, when River Phoenix died at the age of 23. But the main reason I’m actually mourning the death of pretty much a washed-up ‘80’s teen star is that one of his movies happens to be an all-time favorite of mine. It was the teen vampire movie before any of those Twilight movies. Well, unless you count that one Jim Carrey movie back in 1985 … Hearing about Corey Haim’s death had me wondering about the other actors in the Lost Boys. So I ended up doing a little IMDb research to see what the other Lost Boys were up to. Sadly, most of the other actors (with the exception of one… ) did not, in my opinion anyway, have much commercial success outside of the 80’s and 90’s. So yeah … here’s what I found:

Jason Patric (Michael): Oh boy, do I ever remember my 15-year old heart crushing on Jason. But then he kinda fell off the face of the earth … until 1997, when he starred opposite of Sandra Bullock in Speed 2.
Jami Gertz (Star): Oh, how I wanted to be Star in the movie … I wanted to be the glamorous Boho chick that Michael fell in love with. Of course, the only other movie I can remember her in is 1996’s Twister.
Edward Hermann (Max, the head vampire): You know … I remember many silly movies that Edward Hermann starred in over the years … he’s definitely one of those character actors. But for me, Edward will always be the Richard Gilmore, father of Lorelai Gilmore in one of my favorite TV shows of all time, The Gilmore Girls.
Dianne Wiest (Lucy, mom to Michael and Sam): Is it sad that the only other movies I can remember Dianne starring in (besides a couple Woody Allen films) is as the mom of Winona Ryder’s character in Edward Scissorhands?
Barnard Hughes (Grandpa): Here’s definitely one fact I didn’t know … apparently Blossom (as in the TV show) and Michael & Sam shared the same grandfather!
Alex Winter (vampire Marko): Out of the two“lackey” vampires (David excluded), Alex is the only one that ever went on to anything remotely successful following the Lost Boys. Oh yes … he went on to star opposite of Keaunu Reeves in non other than Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure. Whoa!
Jamison Newlander (Alan Frog): He’s the lesser known of the Frogg brothers. As for films following the Lost Boys? Next to nil. BUT … he will be seen in the THIRD film in the Lost Boys series, Lost Boys: The Thirst. Apparently he was in the second film, but his scenes got cut. Ouch.
Kiefer Sutherland (David): Oh geez, hands down the most successful actor in the motley crew that is the Lost Boys. Let’s see … he’s done LOTS of films following this movie and has pretty much kept busy up to this decade. Most famously known as Jack Bauer from the TV show 24. BUT … do you remember his high profile engagement to Julia Roberts? And how the wedding was canceled three days beforehand? And how Julia ran off with his “best man” … who just happened to be … da da da dum … Jason Patric?! Yeah, I figured you might have!

And finally, last but certainly not least …

Corey Feldman (Edgar Frog): The other half of the “Two Coreys” and costar with Corey Haim (and Heather Graham as Mercedes) in License To Drive. But I also have fond memories of Corey Feldman and Kiefer Sutherland starring in Stand By Me, with none other than River Phoenix. (Funny how they all run in the same circles … ) The most recent film I saw him in was in Lost Boys: The Tribe. And yes, he’ll also be reprising his Edgar Frog role in Lost Boys: The Thirst. Let’s just hope it’s not as cheesy as The Tribe was …

Anyway, thanks for the stroll down memory lane. And seeing as I don’t have a copy of the original Lost Boys in my film collection, I might have to go out an buy it! RIP, Corey Haim. Hopefully you’re no longer “lost”

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Every Day Lenten Activities ... Every Day Good Deed: Today was another one of those days where I simply just sat and listened to a coworker vent about her frustrations in her personal life; sometimes offering my perception of a particular situation when asked. Sometimes I wonder if that’s just my nature to be a listener and to be an empathetic set of ears … or if I really am doing a good deed. But I suppose if whatever I do offers the other person comfort … I’d like to count it as a good deed. Every Day Gratitude: Today I’m thankful for the fact that my hard work over the past year has been recognized. In an economic situation where most people struggle to find a job (and keep one), I consider myself lucky to have gotten a merit increase in my salary this year. G*d must know how much we need that little boost! Well that’s it for the night … I’m obviously not any type of vampire, because I just can’t seem to keep my eyes open.

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Emily — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 04:30:50 +0000

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Emily — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 04:35:19 +0000

Pushing It

Emily — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 01:44:32 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2528" align="alignright" width="245" caption="Don't forget DJ Spinderella ..."][/caption] Remember that song by Salt n Pepa? The one that goes, "Ahh ... , Push it"? The same one that I used to say "Bullsh*t" instead of the real lyrics? I just thought of that song today during a Leadership class I attended today. I should start off by saying that our department is really decent about providing its supervisors and managers with continuing education classes. In fact, every month we typically have one of these all-day sessions, which is a great time for us to focus on "us" as leaders. And which is why most of us look forward to these days. Today's class happened to be about being assertive while not appearing pushy. (A-ha! Now you get my Salt n Pepa reference!) It's one thing that I know I have issues with; not necessarily about the "being pushy" part, but the "being assertive" bit. You see, I know that I tend to be passive rather than assertive or aggressive. I know that I tend to be indecisive rather than authoritative. I know that I tend to lean towards keeping things harmonious rather than try to stir the pot. Not that I mean to keep rehashing old issues ... but a good example of this is how I dealt with my infertility. Especially up to the point where my SIL announced her pregnancy with my nephew, Liam. Rather than make others be subjected to how much of a failure I felt, I kept all those feelings in. I may have outwardly shown that I was okay, but in truth I was a big unhappy mess inside. Once I found out about the pregnancy, all those insecurities tore open wide ... And there was nothing I could do to stop myself from openly feeling miserable. In the same token, I know that once a particular "button" is pushed; whether it be a verbal or nonverbal action, I can go full-force into agressive mode. Which, again I don't mean to rehash another old issue, happened to me with my SIL following the birth of my niece, Kairi. And even though I felt "better" about finally expressing everything I had ever felt about my infertility, I felt ... guilty for doing it in such a manner. Yet, for a while there ... the time period between Liam and Kairi, there was a little bit of assertiveness. Perhaps I wasn't directly assertive; because, truth be told, I never physically approached a person face-to-face about my infertility. But that assertiveness came in the form of my blog; where I was able to sort through all the emotions and insecurities I had about myself and my lack of ability to create a life. And where I was able to express these feelings in a written form. During today's class, I learned that most people who are not assertive feel that they are not in control of their situation. As a passive person, that lack of control comes forth in the sense of indecision. As an aggressive person, it comes forward as being forceful and emotional. To become more "assertive" (and therefore less passive or less aggressive), one of the learning tools that we learned was to determine when the optimal time would be to have that conversation about behaviors or actions. In order to determine that optimal time, we must first determine what our worries are about having this conversation. In order to do that, we were given instructions. First, we needed to write down all of these worries. Next we were told to eliminate any of those worries we had no control over. And finally, we were told to take those worries we had control over and ask ourselves, "How can I ... ?" That last step was key for me. It's that one that I knew would be able to ease my discomfort in having an assertive conversation. First of all, it forces me to realize those worries I knew I couldn't change. Secondly, it helped point out those concerns that I knew I could modify. And finally, by asking "How can I ... ?", it allows me to feel as if I was part of a solution to a problem or situation rather than appearing aggressive and dictatorial. More important was that first step ... at least to the blogger in me. That step ... the one where I need to write all these worries down ... helped confirm that what I had been doing has been helpful in allowing me to grow in assertiveness. Because blogging about my frustrations and anger and jealousy; it allows me to vent when I need to vent and cry when I need to cry, without having all those emotions build up ... until I take out my aggressions in an unhealthy manner. I hope that this little tidbit of information helps other bloggers also feel justified in wearing their heart on their sleeves, whenever writing about their emotions. And I also hope that those non-blogger readers of mine find that what I write in my blog ... well, sometimes they are things that I can't say in my real world. You know, the one where I'm still learning not to be so passive ...

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It's official. I'm pass the halfway mark for my 40 day Lenten promise of paying it forward. Today is Day 21! So let's get it started ... Good Deed of the Day: Since our leadership class finished up early today, we were able to leave work about an hour earlier than usual. One of my co-workers needed to take a commuter train to her suburban Chicago home, but unfortunately she was between trains on the schedule. Rather than have her walk all the way to the train station on her own (as she tends to either take a bus or walk with other coworkers who were still up on the floor working), we both took advantage of a beautiful Chicago afternoon and walked it. This, however, is the same co-worker who has not been in her best health and became short-of-breath rather easily. So rather than have her keep up to my (already) slow pace, I took it even a pace slower ... and tried to do most of the talking, so that she didn't have to walk and talk at the same time. Even though this is something I would have naturally done for any patient I take care of, I find this one even more satisfying because I knew that I was killing two birds with one stone: I got her to exercise a bit so that she'd continue to gain strength. And I got her to the train station in a safe manner. Gratitude of the Day: Even though I know that these leadership clases tend to take us away from our daily duties at work, I am so grateful that we get this "perk." Because I tell ya ... every time I go to one of these, I come back with great nuggets of information.

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Emily — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 04:51:17 +0000

Blockbuster Night

Emily — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 01:10:02 +0000

Oh, don't let the title of this post fool you. It's not as if I have anything spectacular lined up for me tonight. If you want to know the truth, I'm sitting her on our couch, watching one of five Blu-Ray discs we've rented from the local Blockbuster. And, if I can stay awake long enough, I'm looking forward to watching at least two of these discs tonight. If not ... well, at least Hubby & I have Saturday and Sunday to watch them. It's been a mentally exhausting kind of day for me. Being "off the floor" and in that leadership class yesterday had me catching up on lots of emails and "issues" that occurred while I was gone. And, in particular, one rather large issue that has been ongoing had me dealing with gastric reflux since Tuesday evening. Unfortunately, that's a story for another day. Because right now, all I want to do is finish this post and snuggle with Hubby while watching some blockbuster movies!

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Before I get to my Lenten duties ... I just want to wish my nephew, Tyler, an incredible birthday. I still can't believe he's fourteen!!

[caption id="attachment_2535" align="alignleft" width="294" caption="Early 90's pic of (future) Hubby & I at the old Herschel's Deli and Bakery in Troy, MI. Sigh ... I miss Herschel's"][/caption] Lenten Gratitude of the Day: I am so thankful for Friday nights. They're full of possibilities for the weekend. In my young adolescent years, it may have been staying up late and watching Love Boat and Fantasy Island with my parents. In high school, it may have been a variety of evening outings to Denny's or Herschel's. In those college years, it may be heading out to City Club to soak up some late night goth/industrial music. Now? Well, obviously it's spent doing more low key things; like going to the movies or renting them ... unless, of course, we're heading back to Detroit for the weekend. And quite frankly, I'm quite okay with it. Lenten Nicety of the Day: Let's see ... I spent a lot of time today fixing "things" for my staff; stuff that should have been taken care of from a higher level of management. But again ... this is something for another post. But rather than rehash it now ... I'll just let you know that this was my good deed. And you'll have to trust me on that.

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Emily — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 05:05:06 +0000

Saving Daylight

Emily — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 03:30:39 +0000

I usually hate this weekend; the weekend where we turn our clocks forward one hour. I find that losing that one hour totally screws with my circadium rhythm. And the older I get, the more it takes my body to readjust. Earlier this week, I told a coworker of mine about my hatred of these "Spring Forward" weekends. This coworker, always the optimist, had told me he was the opposite; that he always looked forward to Daylight Savings Time in spring. "What's not to love?," he asked me. "We might lose an hour, but we gain an hour of sunlight." And all I could think was how right he was. So I think I'm going to take a page out of my coworker's book and look forward to longer and warmer days.

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Buena Acción del Día: Today was a day of pequeño good deeds. One was patiently waiting for a couple of older women walk up a set of stairs at a restaurant so that we can follow our hostess. Another little good deed was allowing others to use our surge protector to plug their laptops. In any case, any little good thing we could do, Hubby and I tried to do. La Gratitud del Día: I love date night. Tonight Hubby & I ended up at a movie theater to watch Shutter Island. There's something about movies that make it such a great activity for us old married folk to do on a laid back date night.

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Emily — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 07:29:46 +0000

Six Cents

Emily — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 00:22:54 +0000

It's been another long time since I've done a PWP post. This one has more to do about the recent events that have occured at work over the past week. If anything, I know that employers and/or future employers can very well decide to google me one day and I'd hate to have them stumble upon a post about my particular line of work. So if you'd like to follow along (and perhaps offer some sage advice), please comment on the post below and I'll email you the password. For those of you that have read my other PWP posts, the password is the same one I've used in the past. But seeing that it's been well over 6 months, I totally understand if you might have forgotten it. Comment below and I'll hook you up.

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In the mean time, since the PWP post is a pretty detailed post, I might as well do my daily Lenten practice. And if you're wondering how I'm actually writing in another language ... it's not that I'm multi-lingual. I'm just having fun with Google Translation! (Today, is Tagalog ... and don't ask me if it's conversational, because I might be Filipino, but I'm an illiterate Filipino!) [caption id="attachment_2550" align="alignright" width="200" caption="Check out one of Hubby's *awesome* pieces of work!"][/caption] Mabuting gawa ng araw: I think I may have found my new profession. I may not have the face of a Super Model (although Hubby begs to differ ... he's so sweet!), but apparently my hands are good for modeling Hubby's designs for his portfolio. I posed my hands pro bono today ... but if all goes well, I might have to wear hyperbaric chambers on my hands (a-la David Duchovny style in Zoolander) to prevent them from aging! Pasasalamat ng Araw: Today I am grateful for living in a diverse city. Particularly because it's much easier to find various ethnic foods around here than it was in Metro-Detroit. My aunt and cousins introduced Hubby & I to this tiny Chinese bakery that's pretty close to our apartment. And mmmm ... is it ever good, especially when it's freshly made. Today we picked up some of my favorite baked BBQ pork buns, freshly made sesame seed balls, and moon cakes. Yummy!

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Okay, so that's it for now ... again feel free to comment below if you'd like the password to the following post ...

I See Dreadful People

Emily — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 01:31:25 +0000

So here's the deal. The health insurance company that I work for is one of the very few insurance companies that actually gained membership this past year. We're one of the top five health insurers in the nation. And before I have people indirectly throw daggers at me whilst shaking your fists about the rise in health insurance premiums and the decrease accessibility to health care for the uninsured ... let me throw one more pathetically disgusting thing out there: As a "non-publicly traded" organization whose belief that the employees and insurance policyholders "own" the company, the majority of us received a nice little bonus for our "performance" in 2009. And now you can commence throwing rotten tomatoes at your screen. (But remember, it'll be you that has to clean up the mess ... ) The amount that an employee receives for the bonus is actually based on a few things: 1) How the company, as a whole, did over the past year; 2) How well your division did in meeting the corporate goals; and 3) How well the individual employee performs over that past year. It's that last bit ... that #3 that apparently is different from years' past. Before I came along, it didn't matter how you as an individual performed ... you still received some gold coins from the big leprechaun pot (lame reference to the upcoming St. Paddy's Day, I know ... ). I was honestly quite taken back by the amount I received for my bonus. In my previous job, a bonus was something that we were incredibly lucky to get; especially given the economy of Detroit at the time. (Quite honestly, I even wonder if my previous employer was even able to give any bonus at all this year.) In any case, as a supervisor I was the (truly) lucky person that got to deliver the actual bonus amounts to to my employees last Wednesday; as Upper Management wanted the employees to know what to expect before it was scheduled to show up as a direct pay into our paychecks Thursday morning. For the most part, everyone who got one was very happy with the amount that they received. Then there were those that indicated that this was much lower than what they were used to getting. In which I proceeded to remind them that not all companies were able to provide bonuses, let alone raises for cost-of-living to their employees. That, in fact, the economy wasn't so good to other companies, where they had to lay off employees.That seemed to shut up those naysayers. And then there's the one employee of mine that got nothing. That's right, you read it right ... nothing. Well, not really zero ... more like six cents. Which, if you ask me, is a huge slap in the face. Because nothing is worse than getting pittance pay. Part of me knew she wasn't going to get much of a bonus; especially since she hadn't been one of my greatest "performers" over the last half of 2009. But I certainly did not expect that amount. Nor did I expect that I would have to tell my employee this on Wednesday, when we only got the actual amounts on Tuesday evening. It's a shame, because after having two previous conversations with this employee in late January (once with her annual eval and a second when I informed her of her smaller-than-usual annual merit increase), she had done a complete 180-degrees when it came to her performance. Basically, she had owned up to her poor performance for the last half of 2009 and had decided to make a conscious effort to do better this year. And then I had to give her this news past Wednesday. Tuesday evening, it was my Director who provided me with the information about this employee's lack of bonus. And because my Manager wasn't around to discuss how much I didn't want to derail my employee's progress with this horrible news, I decided to go to my Director. Before I go further, I must tell you that my Director is a wonderful person. He was actually a supervisor alongside me when I first started, so I got to know him and his style of leadership before he actually became our Director. Shortly after, he was fast-tracked to Manager and then Interim Director when our Director moved up to VP. And if there was anyone I could trust in Upper Management, it would definitely be him because I knew that his leadership style has always been honest and direct without being too aggressive; unlike my Manager. So getting back to the story. I approached my Director on Tuesday night about possibly providing my employee with some sort of "Spirit Award" (which is a monetary-based award) in lieu of her pitiful bonus. While I understood the whole performance-based aspect of the bonus amount ... I just couldn't understand why, as a company who did well in 2009, she only would get six-frickin'-cents while others in my team (though deserving, based on their performance) got much bigger bonuses. Could it have been a mistake? Did *I* do anything wrong with inputting her review in the system? Unfortunately, my Director told me that even he entered the "formula" (made by our HR dept) three times, thinking it was a mistake and it still came out to be the same amount. And he assured me that this "formula" took into account the actual "Performance Rating" that I had entered into our system; so there was no mistake. However, he did indicate that my idea of providing her with a "Spirit Award" to recognize her outstanding performance since the beginning of the year was a great idea and he was willing to "sign off" in whatever he needed to in order to get this approved. It would definitely not be as much as she might have gotten if her 2009 performance was better; but at least this was a step towards letting my employee know how much I appreciate her recent performance, despite the Slap-In-The-Face news I knew I had to deliver by Wednesday afternoon. Wednesday afternoon. Short of her jaw actually dropping and steam coming out of her ears, she was shocked and rightfully pissed off. Overall, the conversation went well and I'm just grateful that she didn't take her anger out on me. And luckily, she did once again, own up to her performance last year as the reason for the (lack of) bonus ... but trust me, it didn't make me feel any better. We did, however, leave things as good as we could. I once again, let her of how appreciative I've been about her performance this year and that I didn't want this event to derail her from the progress she was making. And I also told her that I was working with our Director to see what we could do about getting her something monetary to let her know how much we recognized her efforts. And I also let her know that I was available to assist her with keeping her moving forward in her progress. Now flash forward to Thursday afternoon. As you might recall, I had a leadership class with other supervisors in our division; people that I've worked with before, both directly and indirectly. The topic came up about the bonuses; and one the supervisors, who knew I was really upset about the issue, brought up the topic. Amongst many discussions, I found out that there were other employees who got the same performance rating as my employee that did get a nice little bonus ... definitely more than a lousy six cents. SO ... on Friday Morning, I decided I was going to head back into my Director's office and ask him if this was indeed true. And if so, what can we do to correct the situation? But of course, I had to follow the chain-of-command, so I went to my Manager first. I told her about my plans to talk to our Director; which, during this conversation with her, she told me was the best thing to do, since he was the one that knew every employees' ratings and bonus amounts. Unfortunately, our Director was in meetings all day until late afternoon. But as soon as I saw he was available, I went to his office to ask him if he truly did know if there were other Case Managers (CM) that got bonuses despite having the same Performance Rating as my employee. He was pretty certain that there wasn't, but he would pull up the spreadsheet to make sure. And sure enough ... there was one. SO ... this brought up another discussion about why one CM would get a nice bonus while another one wouldn't. Was this a situation of singling out one particular person? What it came down to was a combination of both reasons; one which I could logically understand, and another that ... Well, let me just tell you about it. First the logical reason. This other employee (who reports to a different manager than me), even though she was in the same department as me, was part of a different Cost Center. And this Cost Center had a totally different "Pot" in which to divvy the money. And now the ____ (fill in whatever expletive you'd like) reason. Apparently this past Monday is when the bonuses were calculated for each employee. And according to my Director, both my Manager and this other CM's manager were present when this was being calculated. When it came time for my employee's calculation, apparently my manager basically indicated to the Director that this was truly a reflection of her poor performance this year and left it at that. Forget that she is in a high profile Custom Team that requires a lot of specialized management of members. Forget that, unlike the other CM's in our department, she has to present actual cases in front of auditors to see if her management of a particular member's care was appropriate. Yeah ... apparently, my manager didn't figure that into the equation. However, when it came time for the other CM's calculation, apparently her manager asked for whatever amount was calculated to be increased. This manager felt that this other CM deserved more than what was calculated based on some projects that she had been on. Basically what it boiled down to is that my Manager screwed my employee over by singling her out from the rest of the staff; making her an example of what might happen to a poor performer. Never mind that I continuously kept my manager up to date with how much progress my employee was making. Which really pissed me off.** After I discovered this, other situations in which my Manager singled out my CM came to mind. Situations where my Manager would pull me aside to tell me that she could always "remove" this employee from my team.*** In which I always told her, "No, I would rather work with her then take her off my team." And you bet your a$$ I told my Director that. Which then led to the conversation about how my Manager had called our Director earlier in the day to "warn" him about my request to speak to him about this employee's bonus. In which my Director told me that she apparently told him that she "advised me against" going to talk to him. "Funny," I told my Director. "She advised me to go to you, since you'd have the actual data." Anyway, after establishing (once again) that my Manager obviously had some sort of agenda, both with my employee and obviously with me as well () ... I asked him, as my discernible mentor**** what my next step should be. Should I continue to go up the chain-of-command? Should I approach my Manager about it? What's my best course of action? My Director was very honest, which again is one of the things I'm grateful for. He told me that if I wanted to take this further, he'd be with me 100%. However, is this a battle worth fighting at this time? And what would the overall consequences be; not only to my employee, but to my relationship with my manager? So I decided that the best thing would be to let this sleeping bull lie for now. And continue to pursue the "Spirit Award" for my employee. (Which, my Director said I could be there to "witness" him approving it, if I'd like.) Because I believe my Director is right in saying that there are some battles that are worth fighting for and others which sometimes result in consequences that are far worse than when the battle first began. Anyway ... that is my long winded story. What I learned from the gastric reflux-induced experience is that there are just some people out there that are just plain dreadful. And sometimes ... well, they may appear nice and friendly -- especially on first impression -- but if you're burned once from this person, then chances are you'll be burned again. I suppose I should watch my back for more daggers from now on ... What do you guys think? What would you have done? Seriously, any advice would be appreciated; as I fully expect a situation like this to happen again.

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** Especially after Hubby pointed out that it's a possibility that she wanted to take a bigger chunk of our Cost Center's pot for herself. (Possibly hearsay, but with my Manager, I never know ... )

*** Almost like a Mobster would say, "Want me to take care of that?" and then go and "fix" the situation by doing a drive-by shooting at the "problem's" home.

**** Remember when I said he was a supervisor when I first started? Yes, I did sit with him for the first few days to TRY to understand how things worked.

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Emily — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 05:20:28 +0000

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Thrown off the Rhythm

Emily — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 02:38:46 +0000

Okay, I tried to be optimistic about this whole Daylight Savings Time / Spring Forward thing, but losing an hour of sleep is definitely for the birds. And I do mean that literally ... as in those d*mn birds woke me up extra "early" this morning with all their chirping. [caption id="attachment_2571" align="alignright" width="259" caption="Our Medicare-Eligible (not really) Rain"][/caption] It certainly didn't help that I was up late the night before finishing up the previous long-winded post. Nor that I absolutely hated waking up in the dark (again) this morning. Yes, this time change completely disrupted my usual morning routine. It's a routine that involves getting ready for work while simultaneously spending time with my furchildren. First up is Rain, our Senior Citizen cat. She usually follows me into the shower and stays with me until I'm squeaky clean and robed. Then she meows incessantly until I pick her up and take her to our couch where I smother her by scratching her behind her ears and under her chin. That is until she gets sick of me smothering and jumps off of my lap. Next up is Kozzy. After I'm all dressed for work, I wake Hubby to let him know I'm taking our 14-year old "puppy" for her morning walk. The time it takes me to walk Kozzy down the street and around the block apparently is enough time for Hubby to get ready to take me to work. [caption id="attachment_2572" align="alignleft" width="197" caption="Kozzy-girl trying to steal the spotlight from Yami"][/caption] Anyway ... when Kozzy and I go on our morning walk, it's usually about her having to do her "business." After she's done, I take her to an area where she can sniff away to her little heart's content. And then it's back to the apartment. Finally, there's Yami. She is definitely a silly one. She's the kitty who wants to be cuddled but doesn't want to be cuddled; if you get my drift. In other words, she'll come up to me and weave between my legs as if to say, "Pick me up! Pick me up!" But then she runs away the minute I bend down to pick her up. So every morning, I have to sit down in the chair next to her favorite "box" so that I can pet her while she props her front paws up on my knee. After finishing that morning routine, Hubby & I head out the door; but not before reassuring our anxiety-prone Kozzy that we will return ... well at least Hubby will sooner than me. This morning, my poor pets felt the effects of losing an hour as well. Rain was so surprised that I was up "so early" that she wouldn't even follow me into the bathroom. And Yami just wouldn't hop into her box so that I could pet her. But the pet most affected by the time change was our poor Kozzy. [caption id="attachment_2573" align="alignright" width="264" caption="Yami in her specially "designed" box "][/caption] Typically Kozzy is patiently waiting for me to put her collar on so we could go for her walk. But this morning? Well, I walked into her "room" to find her curled up asleep on her rug. She was obviously in a deep sleep, because she didn't even move a muscle as I approached her. In fact, I had to pet her a few times on her head and behind her ears before she would even lift up her head. And once she did, she looked at me as if to say, "Seriously? It's way too early. Let's go back to sleep!" But after a little more coaxing, she finally stood up and stretched. It's just funny to know that my furbabies are also affected by the time change. While I know this discombobulated feeling is only temporary ... and that the reason for "springing forward" is to make the days longer, I just want to get back to a regular rhythm; return back to my previously scheduled programming. And quite honestly, I'm just waiting for the sun to actually come out here in Chicago. Because maybe then it'll feel like we're actually "saving" daylight!

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Let's see ... what language should we use today for my Daily Lenten Duties? How about Dutch? Goede daad van de Dag: Today's Good Deed happened to be little things again. Informing a stranger that the parking ticket machine wasn't working. Holding the door open for someone who happened to be pushing an elderly person in a wheelchair. But probably the best "Good Deed" was to actually return to work today, given my difficult week last week ... Dankbaarheid van de Dag: I am truly grateful for the other supervisors that I work with on a daily basis. It's just nice to know that, unlike other departments where there is no cohesion with their peers, we can all support each other without hesitation. Anyway, that's it for the night. I'm definitely going to turn in so I can catch a little more ZZZ's than last night!

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Emily — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 05:49:35 +0000

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Amateur Night

Emily — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 04:50:26 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2579" align="alignright" width="225" caption="My Dad tries to "Poll Dance" in Vegas on the shuttle ... It's his Amateur Night! LOL!"][/caption] How is it that I managed to attend my first Meetup group event on the eve of my blogoversary? And how perfect that I joined a group called Chicago Blogs? Yes, Hubby finally managed to drag me (although not kicking and screaming) to one of his Meetup events. Which, seeing that it just happens to be about blogging, seems perfect as a Meetup Virgin. WOW, did I learn quite a bit about the "geekier" side of blogging! From SEOs (a term I just learned tonight) to marketing my blog in various manners ... I feel as if I'm quite behind on my learning curve for blogging. But that's okay. Because that's what this group is about; which is to learn from each other and share various experiences. Seeing that I had never been to a Meetup event before, I was initially quite nervous. Although I'm the "outgoing" one between Hubby & I, there are still times that I can be quite shy. But from the moment Hubby & I arrived, we both felt quite comfortable. So thank you, Marty, for being such a gracious host. And seriously, it was incredible to meet such a great group of people with various experiences in the blogoverse. Looking forward to picking your brain for more ideas ... especially now that I finally have a registered domain!! And now comes the time-consuming part (mostly on Hubby's end) of designing and developing my blog ...

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Well ... seeing that it's the eve of St. Patrick's day, might as well go for an Irish version of my Lenten Activities: Dea-Gníomhas an Lae: Today's good deed was all about encouragement. Not only was it about encouragement to some of the new folk I met tonight; especially those that have just entered into the world of blogging ... but it was also about providing feedback and confidence to all of my employees as we met one-on-one today. Bhuíochas ar an Lae: I am grateful for the opportunity to meet new people. Being new in a city is not necessarily a bad thing ... it's just the older I get, the harder it is to meet other people outside of work and outside of my profession. So being able to meet new people and find common interests? Yeah ... that's just the whip cream on top of the banana split! Okay all, that's it. I'm barely keeping my eyes open at this time ... Good night!

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Emily — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 03:24:39 +0000

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Triple the Thanks

Emily — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 03:41:15 +0000

"They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world; someone to love, something to do, and something to be hopeful for." -- Tom Bodett

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Happy St. Paddy's Day to all you Laddies and Lassies ... Well what's left of it anyway.

[caption id="attachment_2585" align="alignleft" width="171" caption="Oh yeah, a Detroit Original ... *finally* in Chicago!"][/caption]

But more important (at least to me), Happy Blog O'Versary to me!!

Yeah, I'm lame; but I just had to add a bit o' Irish to it, seeing as I started this blog three years ago to the day.

After my first Meetup last night, I was so exhausted. Not that going to the event was so stressful ... It's just that it had been a reaaallly long day, and the last thing I felt like doing was writing a blog entry. Yet I persisted. After all, I made that lofty promise both here and with NaBloPoMo. (D*mn you, the overachiever in me!)

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This week I've been trying to have One-on-One meetings with my staff. It's something that I've learned from my previous stint as a supervisor that has proven to beneficial with getting to understand my team. While meetings are a great way for a message to be delivered in a manner where everyone hears it at the same time, One-on-One meetings provide a person to be heard and recognized individually. And since many days I'm too busy running from meetings to meetings of my own instead of being readily available to them, I've made it a point to allot a block of time on my schedule just to spend quality mentoring time together.

[caption id="" align="alignright" width="205" caption="On the drive to the West Loop yesterday. "][/caption]

The thing is, I now have a staff of 12 people; 10 of them that are Nurse Case Managers (CM). With six CMs, carrying out One-on-One's are quite a chore. Adding the additional four new CMs to the list? Well, it's simply exhausting ... even if I broke them up over the past three days. But the upswing to them is that I've really gotten to know these four new hires.

Two of the new CMs are younger in age** in comparison to the rest of my staff. Not that the rest of my staff are years and years older than them. But with these young newbies come a fresher, more enthusiastic attitude than the more established CMs.

Then there's the older, more experienced new hire. She has years of knowledge in Case Management and resources up the wazoo. After spending time with her today, I realize that she is definitely one (of the very few) staff members than can understand the intellect behind some of the business decisions in our department.*** And, trust me ... I truly appreciate that!

Anyway, this older new hire is currently going through Empty Nest syndrome. With her only daughter now in college and no spouse in the picture, she confessed that she had been going through a difficult time. For the past 18-plus years, her life was centered on her child's life, and now she's not exactly sure what her next step will be.

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="198" caption="We stumbled on THIS while trying to find parking ..."][/caption]

Reflecting on that conversation had me contemplating about my struggles with my infertility "next steps." For so long, my life was centered on getting pregnant and starting our family. After the failed IVF attempt, Hubby & I went on a long sabbatical on actively TTC (trying to conceive) to decide what our next step would be. Should we try another round of IVF? Or should we look at adoption? And even if we finally came to a decision, could we even afford either option? But after a multi-year sabbatical, entwined with several pregnancies in our families alone, we finally decided to go down the Childfree Living path.

While doing this, I realized that "Empty Nesting" is similar to an infertile who finally sets free that dream of having a family. Suddenly there's no purpose in life and there's a struggle to find out what to do next. And the childless couple as well as the Empty Nester both share the same thought process; both begin to think, "Our lives no longer revolve around a child anymore."

It's just that an infertile's "child" is merely a dream.

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One last bit about my Blog O'Versary ... Thank you for all those readers and commenters out there; both faithful and new. Knowing that my voice is heard in some manner or another means that I am leaving a legacy behind ... even if it's a "virtual" legacy.

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[caption id="" align="alignright" width="198" caption="We were told it's a large toy storage facility!"][/caption] Oops. Almost forgot about my Daily Lenten practice. But really, this shouldn't be too hard today.

Daily Good Deed: I think that today, my daily good deed happens to be setting the time aside to spend with my staff. As much as these One-on-One meetings take up a big chunk of my schedule when I could spend it working on those projects and reports I've been assigned to, I believe that this is one of those value-added tasks that allow me to see the bigger picture of my staff.

Daily Gratitude: It's all about you readers today. Again ... thanks for your love and support.

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** Which sometimes makes me feel so old as their supervisor ... especially since I've always been the youngest CM/Superivsor on the block. And here I am hiring younger staff than me ... eesh! *** Here's an example of what I mean. I know that most people are resistant to change, and I expect that. When enhancing and streamlining a piece of our established CM process, most of my established CMs will voice concerns that we're adding an "extra" piece of work for us to do. While they may see it as non-value added step (despite given a logical explanation), this older CM actually sees it as another piece of the puzzle to a) understand the member and b) a way to "justify" our jobs.

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Emily — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 19:35:56 +0000

Out of My Shell

Emily — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 19:50:55 +0000

[caption id="attachment_2599" align="alignright" width="225" caption="Nice Sunny Chicago Day ... Last Summer! "][/caption] It's gorgeous outside. And I know this, despite being locked up under artificial lights since 8:30 this morning, because I've been unchained from my desk for a lunch time break. I couldn't let the beautiful day go by without soaking up some of that sun. I'm getting a head start on today's post only because I will be attending my second Meetup for the week; another one about Bloggers in the Chicago area. This apparently is one of the bigger groups (300+ members), so I'm a little hesitant to see how personal or unpersonal this event will be. In any case, I suppose it's a good thing to get out there in this city. After a over a year of being here, I need to find a balance between work and play. And seeing that this was one of my problems back in Detroit, I figure it best be something I correct now. It's amazing how the older we get, the harder it is to step outside of our shells. Somedays I'm still amazed how I managed to pick up and leave the only city I've ever known and start over. And having a job waiting for me was definitely a blessing in disguise; because, if anything, at least that provided me with the ability to interact with people and relate to them on some common ground (the job, our backgrounds as Case Managers, etc). This hasn't been the same for Hubby. While he continued to have free-lance jobs and interact with people either online or on the phone, there wasn't much face-to-face interaction in his day. (It probably was more face-to-laptop screen or ear-to-iPhone interaction more than anything.) While I encouraged him to work outside of our apartment where there were more chances of human contact, somedays he was too busy to leave his home-office. And somedays, he preferred only furbaby interaction instead. Either way, it's a good thing that he discovered Meetup.com. It's a site that allows people to search for communities and events by interest; narrowing it down to a specific location. And because Chicago is a rather big city, there happens to be more groups/communities available that suit his interests. So for the past (almost) three months now, he's been attending various events and beginning to build his network. Now is the time for me to start doing this. And seeing that my interests lately have been more towards writing more and blogging, it makes sense to go to this Meetup tonite. I have no idea where this blog will take me, but I truly hope that I can at least learn some tips of the trade in trying to get my blog out there and read more often. Wish me luck!!

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Whew ... 17 more days and counting until my Lenten journey is over! Go me!! Good Deed Du Jour: Today we had another inservice at work for the entire staff. Unfortunately, the majority of my in-house staff wanted to go together; which I couldn't allow because our phones needed to be covered for potential incoming live calls from our Customer Service area. But since two staff members left behind had really expressed interest over going to this topic in the past, I told them I'd cover for their phones and get our telecommuters to cover the phones as well. Both of them were very grateful! Gratitude Du Jour: Thank goodness for warm sunny days! Nothing like a little bit of sunshine to give us a taste of Spring ... which officially begins on the 21st! Yay!!

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Emily — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 04:20:04 +0000

No Schedules Allowed

Emily — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 04:38:50 +0000

It's finally Friday night and I'm so happy that the weekend is finally here. So what if the weather is supposed to be crappy weather all weekend? So what if it's probably going to be spent doing laundry? Or, worse, work? All I know is that I'm not going to be held to a specific schedule; not going to be pulled into a last-minute meeting. Not going to have to deal with a constant barrage of emails and IM's. And even though there is work to be done, the fact that I'm going to be able to work at my own pace just totally makes the whole weekend! So this post is going to be short tonite; no fluffy stories or reflections about a child-free life. Tonite is all about keeping up with my Daily Lenten promise.

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Today's Good Deed: While walking the mutt-ster this morning, I managed to find a dollar bill on the sidewalk. After looking all around me to see if there was anybody in the vicinity that might have lost the money, I picked up the dollar and put it in my pocket. And no ... the good deed wasn't that I returned the dollar to the person who lost it. I actually made it a point to give it to my co-worker who, every work day, passes the same hungry homeless man on the way to her commuter train station. I figured that he could use the dollar more than I could. Today's Gratitude: Can I just say one word? Friday. :-)

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One more thing ... couldn't resist putting a photo of this up here. Thought this was one of the coolest concepts I've seen in quite awhile; perfect for the annual dyeing of the Chicago River for St. Patty's Day. Click on the picture to find out more about the Ad Agency behind the concept.