Buttered popcorn
Spicy cologne
Gasoline
Cut grass
Roses
Coffee
Cinnamon
Lavender
Perma-markers
Jelly Belly jellybeans
Bergamot
Fireplace or campfire
Pool chlorine
Chestnut stuffing
Spearmint leaves
A new book
The pine barrens (pine pitch specifically!)
Hawaiian Tropic sunblock lotion
Wet leaves
Newspaper
Vanilla cake
What are your favorites?
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Gray Matter Randoms
You can see that I’ve changed the entire look of the blog. I like this pink color much better. It feels warmer than the green squares, don’t you think? But more than just the look of the page, I’m moving in a new direction with regard to the thoughts and entries.
I’ve decided to include our fertility stuff. I’ve sort of ceased talking about it in person with others, for the most part, but writing it down is a way for me to get it out and a way for others to know what we’re up to in that department, whether they be attuned followers or the casual spectator. There will be days like last Monday, where I am very angry at the way things are. Please bear with me and know that it doesn’t last. And don’t be offended. This is who I am. The whole process of trying to have a child (fruitlessly, thus far) has changed me in some ways permanently. I am not entirely the same person that I was before. And to all of you who have been there for me through this whole process and graciously listened to me rant and cry, I thank you.
Two weeks to Las Vegas! The countdown is on. We are planning to see Red Rock Canyon this time, which I’m completely thrilled about. I would like to do the horseback ride around the rim of the canyon, but we haven’t finalized that yet. I still have yet to find a dress for the vow renewal ceremony. Something circa 1955 would be nice, if I can find it. And a great big thank you to those who will be with us in LV, are making a special trip out just for the ceremony, and to those of you who’ve told me that you’d love to come but can’t make it. Words aren’t sufficient to express just how much that means to me and how loved I feel. Friends like you are what really matter in life.
Speaking of friends, it’s just now hitting me that one of my best girlfriends, her husband and child (my sweet godchild) are literally around the world now. And will be for the next 5 years. I guess I’ve been in a kind of denial that they’ve moved from the cute little house in suburban Maryland to Tanzania. Sure, I helped her pack some stuff and spent some time with them before they left, but it was all very dream-like, as if she were simply going on a vacation. I didn’t really think too much about the future, other than, “Woot! I’m going to Tanzania in 2010!” or “I will see them on home leave next fall”, but it’s just now hitting me that I won’t be able make the 3 hour drive to DC and hang out with them on any given weekend. And they won’t be coming up to NJ for Christmas this year. No birthday party for my little buddy this year. No stress-relieving girl’s nights out. Hmmm. This one is tough.
On to something happier…. Happy Autumn! The most glorious season of the year if you happen to live in the mid-Atlantic states. I have spent some time over the last 2 weekends sprucing up the flower beds with my fall plantings: mums, asters and (new this year) ornamental pepper plants. Take that, you grazing deer that feel free to use my flowers and shrubs as your personal all-you-can-eat buffet! Still have to plant bulbs for Spring flowers. I’m fairly certain that I bought at least 200 bulbs. Tulips and daffodils of the regular and slightly exotic variety, to be sure. Anyway, the leaves are falling and it’s getting cooler at night. Good weather for the fire pit and flannel sheets. I just love it.
I’ve decided to include our fertility stuff. I’ve sort of ceased talking about it in person with others, for the most part, but writing it down is a way for me to get it out and a way for others to know what we’re up to in that department, whether they be attuned followers or the casual spectator. There will be days like last Monday, where I am very angry at the way things are. Please bear with me and know that it doesn’t last. And don’t be offended. This is who I am. The whole process of trying to have a child (fruitlessly, thus far) has changed me in some ways permanently. I am not entirely the same person that I was before. And to all of you who have been there for me through this whole process and graciously listened to me rant and cry, I thank you.
Two weeks to Las Vegas! The countdown is on. We are planning to see Red Rock Canyon this time, which I’m completely thrilled about. I would like to do the horseback ride around the rim of the canyon, but we haven’t finalized that yet. I still have yet to find a dress for the vow renewal ceremony. Something circa 1955 would be nice, if I can find it. And a great big thank you to those who will be with us in LV, are making a special trip out just for the ceremony, and to those of you who’ve told me that you’d love to come but can’t make it. Words aren’t sufficient to express just how much that means to me and how loved I feel. Friends like you are what really matter in life.
Speaking of friends, it’s just now hitting me that one of my best girlfriends, her husband and child (my sweet godchild) are literally around the world now. And will be for the next 5 years. I guess I’ve been in a kind of denial that they’ve moved from the cute little house in suburban Maryland to Tanzania. Sure, I helped her pack some stuff and spent some time with them before they left, but it was all very dream-like, as if she were simply going on a vacation. I didn’t really think too much about the future, other than, “Woot! I’m going to Tanzania in 2010!” or “I will see them on home leave next fall”, but it’s just now hitting me that I won’t be able make the 3 hour drive to DC and hang out with them on any given weekend. And they won’t be coming up to NJ for Christmas this year. No birthday party for my little buddy this year. No stress-relieving girl’s nights out. Hmmm. This one is tough.
On to something happier…. Happy Autumn! The most glorious season of the year if you happen to live in the mid-Atlantic states. I have spent some time over the last 2 weekends sprucing up the flower beds with my fall plantings: mums, asters and (new this year) ornamental pepper plants. Take that, you grazing deer that feel free to use my flowers and shrubs as your personal all-you-can-eat buffet! Still have to plant bulbs for Spring flowers. I’m fairly certain that I bought at least 200 bulbs. Tulips and daffodils of the regular and slightly exotic variety, to be sure. Anyway, the leaves are falling and it’s getting cooler at night. Good weather for the fire pit and flannel sheets. I just love it.
Monday, September 15, 2008
No Sympathy! and Some Things
Here is a Note to the Universe:
If you are 7 months pregnant, please DO NOT come to my office and complain that you are tired, nauseous, feeling heavy, pissed off because you are on a special diet (because you ate too much crap to begin with!), or sick of being pregnant. I DO NOT have any sympathy for you!
Kind Regards,
Renee
*****deep breath*****
The following are cross-posted from one of my favorite blogs, http://worldofwinks.wordpress.com/.
You Might Be an Infertile If…
If somebody has ever asked you the date, and you said Day 21.
If you have ever counted 1, 2, 3 after sex, and thrown your ankles above your head for an absurd amount of time.
If you forget that the entire world doesn’t know what an HSG is.
If it has ever felt strange to not take your clothes off at a doctors appointment.
If you’ve had three people in a room look at your hoohaa and it not make you uncomfortable.
If you wake up and the first thing you reach for isn’t a cup of coffee but a thermometer.
If you circle the days you have sex on your planner.
If you have ever seen your internal organs on a plasma tv.
If you reach into your fridge and instead of getting milk you accidentally grab a hand full of needles, injection pens, or vials.
If you’ve put your feet in stirrups more times than you’ve had sex in a week.
If you’ve ever played the “I’ll be pregnant by then” game for longer than a year.
If you’ve ever wondered if it would be considered a threesome if the two nurses in the room and yourself manage to get you pregnant.
If you have ever had to leave an event because it is a non negotiable nookie night.
If the most action you’ve seen in a while is the camera that closely resembles a vibrator your doctor’s office uses.
If you feel the need to check your underwear more times in an hour than Brad and Angelina have been photographed in the past year.
If you feel bad ass by simply drinking a caffeinated beverage.
If you’ve ever shot up in a bathroom stall and it was perfectly legal.
If you feel like you are constantly speaking in acronyms that nobody seems to understand.
If you have ever banned a sexual position and lubricant because it isn’t beneficial to baby making.
If you avoid baby sections of department stores, baby showers, or infants in general.
If you have seen your doctor, shrink, and acupuncturist more than your girlfriends lately.
If you know more about your reproductive organs and the female body than all of your girlfriends combined.
If getting pregnant doesn’t technically need to involve sex.
If you have ever been placed on birth control to achieve pregnancy.
If you have put out more money for medications than vacations in the past year.
If you measure your life in two week increments.
If you avoid alcohol, smoking, hot baths, hot tubs, saunas, and caffeine.
If you can’t remember life before prenatal vitamins.
You glare at parents who don’t truly appreciate their children, and scowl at the ones who complain.
You literally laugh at people who ask when you are going to have children.
With the money you’ve paid for fertility treatments you could have bought yourself a summer home in Fiji.
You actually hate one of your body parts.
If the most beautiful picture you have ever seen are your embryos.
You have no problems discussing cervical mucus, your period, sexual positions, or the color of whatever IT is that is leaking out of you.
If you actually know how thick your uterus is, how many sperm your husband has, or how many follicles you have.
If you find it a miracle that people actually mangage to get pregnant.
If you can’t remember the last time you bought condoms.
If your medical file is thicker than a Bible.
If you have a degree from Google Med and an advanced degree from WebMD.
You have ever wondered if you are actually having sex wrong.
You are on a first name basis with your pharmacist.
You have ever seriously considering punching somebody for telling you to relax, and would feel completely justified in doing so.
You have a stockpile of pregnancy tests from the dollar store, so you don’t feel guilty for wasting the more expensive ones.
If the word cycling has nothing to do with riding a bike.
If you could swear that anybody standing within a hundred feet could actually hear your biological clock ticking.
If people when people talk about their children you are reduced to tears.
If birthdays are just one more reminder that you have one less year to cross the reproductive finish line.
If you’ve ever found youself yelling at your spell checker, because IUI and IVF are real abbreviations for some important proceedures and damn the creator for not including them in their programming!
If you’ve ever been thankful for having a fat roll, as it makes injections more comfortable.
If you’ve ever missed a full year of vacations because you don’t know where you’ll be in your treatment cycles.
When you begin to dread pregnancy announcements in your own family.
If you can tell a 23 gauge and a 25 gauge needle apart at 40 paces.
If you’ve gotten up at 7 am on a weekend, just to do a shot, and it wasn’t the alcoholic variety.
When all of your friends have each given birth to 2-4 children since you have been trying.
If you take more medication than your eight-six year old grandmother.
If you are 7 months pregnant, please DO NOT come to my office and complain that you are tired, nauseous, feeling heavy, pissed off because you are on a special diet (because you ate too much crap to begin with!), or sick of being pregnant. I DO NOT have any sympathy for you!
Kind Regards,
Renee
*****deep breath*****
The following are cross-posted from one of my favorite blogs, http://worldofwinks.wordpress.com/.
You Might Be an Infertile If…
If somebody has ever asked you the date, and you said Day 21.
If you have ever counted 1, 2, 3 after sex, and thrown your ankles above your head for an absurd amount of time.
If you forget that the entire world doesn’t know what an HSG is.
If it has ever felt strange to not take your clothes off at a doctors appointment.
If you’ve had three people in a room look at your hoohaa and it not make you uncomfortable.
If you wake up and the first thing you reach for isn’t a cup of coffee but a thermometer.
If you circle the days you have sex on your planner.
If you have ever seen your internal organs on a plasma tv.
If you reach into your fridge and instead of getting milk you accidentally grab a hand full of needles, injection pens, or vials.
If you’ve put your feet in stirrups more times than you’ve had sex in a week.
If you’ve ever played the “I’ll be pregnant by then” game for longer than a year.
If you’ve ever wondered if it would be considered a threesome if the two nurses in the room and yourself manage to get you pregnant.
If you have ever had to leave an event because it is a non negotiable nookie night.
If the most action you’ve seen in a while is the camera that closely resembles a vibrator your doctor’s office uses.
If you feel the need to check your underwear more times in an hour than Brad and Angelina have been photographed in the past year.
If you feel bad ass by simply drinking a caffeinated beverage.
If you’ve ever shot up in a bathroom stall and it was perfectly legal.
If you feel like you are constantly speaking in acronyms that nobody seems to understand.
If you have ever banned a sexual position and lubricant because it isn’t beneficial to baby making.
If you avoid baby sections of department stores, baby showers, or infants in general.
If you have seen your doctor, shrink, and acupuncturist more than your girlfriends lately.
If you know more about your reproductive organs and the female body than all of your girlfriends combined.
If getting pregnant doesn’t technically need to involve sex.
If you have ever been placed on birth control to achieve pregnancy.
If you have put out more money for medications than vacations in the past year.
If you measure your life in two week increments.
If you avoid alcohol, smoking, hot baths, hot tubs, saunas, and caffeine.
If you can’t remember life before prenatal vitamins.
You glare at parents who don’t truly appreciate their children, and scowl at the ones who complain.
You literally laugh at people who ask when you are going to have children.
With the money you’ve paid for fertility treatments you could have bought yourself a summer home in Fiji.
You actually hate one of your body parts.
If the most beautiful picture you have ever seen are your embryos.
You have no problems discussing cervical mucus, your period, sexual positions, or the color of whatever IT is that is leaking out of you.
If you actually know how thick your uterus is, how many sperm your husband has, or how many follicles you have.
If you find it a miracle that people actually mangage to get pregnant.
If you can’t remember the last time you bought condoms.
If your medical file is thicker than a Bible.
If you have a degree from Google Med and an advanced degree from WebMD.
You have ever wondered if you are actually having sex wrong.
You are on a first name basis with your pharmacist.
You have ever seriously considering punching somebody for telling you to relax, and would feel completely justified in doing so.
You have a stockpile of pregnancy tests from the dollar store, so you don’t feel guilty for wasting the more expensive ones.
If the word cycling has nothing to do with riding a bike.
If you could swear that anybody standing within a hundred feet could actually hear your biological clock ticking.
If people when people talk about their children you are reduced to tears.
If birthdays are just one more reminder that you have one less year to cross the reproductive finish line.
If you’ve ever found youself yelling at your spell checker, because IUI and IVF are real abbreviations for some important proceedures and damn the creator for not including them in their programming!
If you’ve ever been thankful for having a fat roll, as it makes injections more comfortable.
If you’ve ever missed a full year of vacations because you don’t know where you’ll be in your treatment cycles.
When you begin to dread pregnancy announcements in your own family.
If you can tell a 23 gauge and a 25 gauge needle apart at 40 paces.
If you’ve gotten up at 7 am on a weekend, just to do a shot, and it wasn’t the alcoholic variety.
When all of your friends have each given birth to 2-4 children since you have been trying.
If you take more medication than your eight-six year old grandmother.
Friday, September 12, 2008
A Haiku about My Favorite Hardware Store
White barn and green door
Inside dog food and work gloves
Flashlights and salt licks
Inside dog food and work gloves
Flashlights and salt licks
Monday, September 8, 2008
An Open Letter to My Body
Dear Body,
I know that we’ve not always been on good terms. I mean, I’ve made you fat for most of my adult life with my uncontrollable urges to eat foods that are by and large not the best food choices and lethargy that would shame the common tree sloth. Well, there have been lean times. Remember the time back in 1997 where we were 50 pounds lighter? I know we looked great then, but it came with a high price: acute depression, loss of appetite, and a penchant for lots of cheap red wine. Now in the era post-anti-depressants, our happiness is really worth the extra 3 clothing sizes, isn’t it? ISN’T IT???
And I’m sorry about all the miles on the treadmill and the bike that I subject you to. Clearly, the free weights and crunches aren’t as much fun as let’s say, sitting in the recliner with a plate of Oreo’s, but hey, I’m approaching 40 and we need to stick around for a while. Plus, it would make my doctor and insurance company very happy if we dropped a few pounds and our blood pressure came down a few points.
Otherwise, I think I’ve been ok to you. One broken ankle in all these years is not bad, you know. Sure, we’ve had some burns, scrapes, contusions, stitches, scars, and a pulled muscle or two, but I’ve come through for you. No major surgeries, no prolonged illnesses, no substance abuse that qualifies me for any kind of treatment or 12-step program. Well, I do apologize about the tattoo. It really was painful, wasn’t it? But it healed so perfectly and I love it. Consider it an investment. We’ll have years of enjoyment as the return on the mere two weeks of soreness.
Now, Body, you have had the upper hand, I would say, in terms of everything else that goes on internally and hormonally. I am writing this letter to you so that we can come to some agreement. I know that you have had a nice respite from the pills, the shots, the daily blood draws, and the constant intrusions (in all the wrong places!) with the ultrasound camera. Hope you’ve enjoyed your little vacation, because we’re going to start that up again as we attempt IVF Round 2. Now, you were so good on the last attempt. You delivered plenty of eggs and even let 1 or 2 of the fertilized little suckers implant. For that, I am eternally grateful. But this time, I am hoping we can go all the way.
Yes, yes, I know… it will mean more of the same. Trips to the specialist at least three times a week and shots every day, either in the abdomen or the tush or both, but trust me, it will all be worth it in the end. This time, body, can you please, please, please let me stay pregnant? Surely you know how much this means to me. Of course, there will be changes if we stay pregnant, but they won’t be permanent. Look, I am happy to make some concessions here. I can give up ice cream, I will eat more veggies – asparagus even, and I will gladly take some nausea or headaches in return. Heck, if you want to give me some zits, that would be fine too.
Anyway, please think it over. This means everything to me, and you know, it would really be in the best interest of both of us if we could make this work.
Love Your Current Occupant,
Renee
I know that we’ve not always been on good terms. I mean, I’ve made you fat for most of my adult life with my uncontrollable urges to eat foods that are by and large not the best food choices and lethargy that would shame the common tree sloth. Well, there have been lean times. Remember the time back in 1997 where we were 50 pounds lighter? I know we looked great then, but it came with a high price: acute depression, loss of appetite, and a penchant for lots of cheap red wine. Now in the era post-anti-depressants, our happiness is really worth the extra 3 clothing sizes, isn’t it? ISN’T IT???
And I’m sorry about all the miles on the treadmill and the bike that I subject you to. Clearly, the free weights and crunches aren’t as much fun as let’s say, sitting in the recliner with a plate of Oreo’s, but hey, I’m approaching 40 and we need to stick around for a while. Plus, it would make my doctor and insurance company very happy if we dropped a few pounds and our blood pressure came down a few points.
Otherwise, I think I’ve been ok to you. One broken ankle in all these years is not bad, you know. Sure, we’ve had some burns, scrapes, contusions, stitches, scars, and a pulled muscle or two, but I’ve come through for you. No major surgeries, no prolonged illnesses, no substance abuse that qualifies me for any kind of treatment or 12-step program. Well, I do apologize about the tattoo. It really was painful, wasn’t it? But it healed so perfectly and I love it. Consider it an investment. We’ll have years of enjoyment as the return on the mere two weeks of soreness.
Now, Body, you have had the upper hand, I would say, in terms of everything else that goes on internally and hormonally. I am writing this letter to you so that we can come to some agreement. I know that you have had a nice respite from the pills, the shots, the daily blood draws, and the constant intrusions (in all the wrong places!) with the ultrasound camera. Hope you’ve enjoyed your little vacation, because we’re going to start that up again as we attempt IVF Round 2. Now, you were so good on the last attempt. You delivered plenty of eggs and even let 1 or 2 of the fertilized little suckers implant. For that, I am eternally grateful. But this time, I am hoping we can go all the way.
Yes, yes, I know… it will mean more of the same. Trips to the specialist at least three times a week and shots every day, either in the abdomen or the tush or both, but trust me, it will all be worth it in the end. This time, body, can you please, please, please let me stay pregnant? Surely you know how much this means to me. Of course, there will be changes if we stay pregnant, but they won’t be permanent. Look, I am happy to make some concessions here. I can give up ice cream, I will eat more veggies – asparagus even, and I will gladly take some nausea or headaches in return. Heck, if you want to give me some zits, that would be fine too.
Anyway, please think it over. This means everything to me, and you know, it would really be in the best interest of both of us if we could make this work.
Love Your Current Occupant,
Renee
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Political Hiatus Over
The lipsticked pit bull has my attention. Holy shit, we're in for it. She has just the kind of populist rhetoric that appeals to the red and purple among us. Who said McCain is senile?
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