Absolute Uncertainty and the Reciprocal Rule

Hello Again

2010-07-26T09:42:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't posted in a while. I've been doing much introspection and haven't been in the mood to post about it. Time is passing much quicker than I would like, of course, especially with respect to Baby V.

In between the introspection, life has fallen into a steady routine. M-F: work all day, enjoy precious 3 hours with baby in evening. Sat & Sun: try to get chores done, spend as much time as possible with baby. Repeat.

Without going into too much detail for one post, I will state that I feel as if some "real" part of life is passing me by. It's a wierd place to be mentally, and hard to describe. But, I can't help but feel that if I were home I would be giving and enjoying so much more as a parent. Maybe I'm just giving shape to feelings of self-pity and my situation. I don't know. Stay tuned.

Orange You Glad?

2010-04-16T12:39:00.000-07:00

my child has boycotted all orange foods. carrots, squash, sweet potatoes, she will have none of it. i've tried, on many seperate, recent occassions to get her to eat them, but to no avail. she only likes green veggies. and no fruit. nothing sweet. such a quirky baby.

Over-achiever

2010-04-14T06:23:00.001-07:00

over-worked.
over-tired.
over-scheduled.

Uneventful

2010-04-03T04:31:00.000-07:00

my 39th birthday passed in a pretty non-descript way on thursday. even at that, it was better than most since i took the day off from work, and because Baby V is in my world. the weather was beautiful and the windows were open.

simplifying my life is on my mind much of the time these days. it's been something i've been thinking about for years, and i really need to do something about it. i'm over-scheduled, for one. i need life in the slow-lane. the challenge will be getting there.

Strange Place to Be

2010-03-31T08:58:00.000-07:00

i've been gone so long, i hardly know why i keep this blog up now. most of the time i promise myself that i will update and post, but there simply aren't enough hours in the day. and i'm not one to skimp on sleep.

i'm in a wierd place now. i'm about to turn 39, dissatisfied with almost everything in my life except my beautiful baby, and not sure what's next. all i know is that i need to make some changes.

in the last few weeks, i have heard bad news from so many people, some of whom i only known tangentially, but i feel weighed down by it. serious illness, sudden death, job loss, foreclosure. i am letting myself cry more often now. it feels good to do so.

The Results Are In

2009-11-23T15:41:00.000-08:00

from the doctor. had some bloodwork and a physical last week. it's not a pretty report. the good cholsterol is down, the bad is up. other metrics are discombobulated.

let's just say that the doc was rather kind when he phrased it like this:
"R, you should consider dietary discipline."

oh really? you don't say! aren't my expanding waistline and high triglycerides going to normalize on their own while i continue to eat french fries??

ugh...

Brain Waves

2009-10-26T07:57:00.000-07:00

Today is my mom's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOM! You are the big 6-0! 60 is the new 40, so don't worry about a thing.

In other news, dudes, I need to go on a diet. And exercise. Ugh.

Say It Isn't So!

2009-10-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

C and I enjoyed our first night out alone as a couple last night since the birth of our daughter. He got us some tickets to see Hall & Oates in Philly, and I can't describe how much I had been looking forward to it! For weeks, it seemed.

Ok, stop laughing now.

Once you get past the cheesey 80's Private Eyes Hall & Oates, and consider their harmonious blue-eyed soul from the 70's, you remember what makes them sound so good. And they have that distinct Philadelphia sound. If you're a fan, you know what I mean. Anyway, it was a good show and to see them Back Together Again; a bit short, but heck, they played enough of the old stuff to make it worth while. They didn't seem Out of Touch at all!

That is, until we returned to our car to find the back window smashed out and a few items stolen from the vehicle. There was shattered glass all over the car, and we had to carefully wipe off the seats with napkins and tissues in order to get in. A random act of violence, I believe. I mean, we were parked in a stadium lot with thousands of other cars, so it's not like we left the car on a side street in West Philadelphia. Sigh. This is Downtown Life, right? Glad I live in the country, though, because I Can't Go For That kind of stuff. No, no, no can do.

What can you do? We knew that after we called the police last night and the insurance company When The Morning Comes, we'd just have to take a breather and be thankful that no one was hurt, the car wasn't stolen, nor was the stereo, stroller, baby seat, or EZ Pass taken. I mean, I'm not a Rich Girl, and thankfully, we only have a $250.00 deductible to pay for the damage. I admit, it was a little chilly driving back to New Jersey with the wind and rain blowing in the car.

Amazingly though, C and I didn't freak or stress too much. I think we are/were both on the same mental wavelength with it, realizing that this kind of thing happens, and while unfortunate, it's clearly nothing to lose sleep over. We'll just do a Sara Smile, realize It's a Laugh. In times like this, I remember why I married C, and it's not just because his Kiss Is On My List.

Booby Fail

2009-10-23T06:45:00.000-07:00

I know you've seen them. The Fail websites. You know, Sign Fail, Car Fail, Picture Fail. They are usually hilarious. Well, I have one of my very own now, but it's not so funny. I call it Booby Fail. The mammaries dried up before I really wanted to stop breastfeeding the baby. After many trips to the lactation consultant, alternating bouts of guilt and loathing for my body (and the tears associated with these feelings), I've come to a peaceful place with the formula my child now eats exclusively.

Otherwise, mommyhood is a blast and I couldn't be happier!

The Story of Baby V's Birth

2009-08-30T10:11:00.000-07:00

With my two duffle bags and a baby bag over-packed with all sorts of items I would not need in my brief stay, I arrived at the maternity wing of the 4th floor of the hospital promptly at 8:00 am on 8/17/09. The doctor and nurses were waiting for me.

8:15 am: I was in a hospital gown and my L&D nurse wheeled in the IV rack. My room was really great. It was an all-in-one private suite where everything takes place for a normal delivery. At check-in, I was still only 1 cm dilated and 50% effaced, which had been my status for over a week. The doctor had given me a talk the previous Friday about how slow the process of induction would be and that I should mentally prepare myself that the baby would not be born until the following day. OK. Got it.

10:00 am: My nurse, Gail, started the Pitocin drip along with the regular IV fluid. I got my book and read for a couple of hours.

12:00 pm: I started to have contractions I could feel. They were spaced apart by several minutes. Not big deal, I thought. I could handle it. I read some more. The doctor came in to check me. I was by then 3 cm dilated and 70% effaced.

1:30 pm: Doctor decided it was a good time to break my water. OK. Contractions felt stronger and closer together. I began to do the breathing exercises I learned in Lamaze class. It helped a bit. I was no longer able to really concentrate on reading.

2:25 pm: C arrived at my bedside. I gave him the run down on the morning’s activities. The contractions were, by this point, more painful than I could have imagined. When Gail returned to the room, I told her that I was ready for the epidural.

3:30 pm: Anesthesiologist arrived to administer epidural. By this time, I was crying between the hee-hee-hee-hee-blow breaths. The anesthesiologist could not insert needle on first pass – claimed that I have a bony ridge on my back (um, yeah, isn’t that my spine??!). He tried again to finally, successfully get in the needle and tube. I realize there are loads of mothers out there who’ve forgone the epidural – and they are much stronger than I, for which I give them mad props – but I think in my case it was the right thing to do. It saved my strength for later on.

4:00 pm: Pain from contractions was lessened to such a degree that I was able to sleep for several hours. I think C ate snacks from the vending machine and slept in the chair at my bedside, although I can’t be sure.

7:00 pm: I was 8 cm dilated and 100% effaced. Pressure from contractions was really intense. Contractions were, by now, coming less than 1 minute apart. In fact, I had been having them 1-2 minutes apart for at least 4 hours. The epidural was turned off so that I could regain feeling to push later on.

9:00 pm: The doctor determined that I was indeed 10 cm dilated (it certainly felt like it!), but there was the problem of the anterior lip of the cervix that just wouldn’t go back in order for me to push. There was much manual manipulation to get this to happen, and I will spare you the details, but it did involve me being rolled over back and forth like a beached whale. Now that I reflect on it, it certainly wasn’t the worst of the whole deal. And everyone is absolutely correct when they say that you won’t care who sees what during the process.

9:30 pm: I was told to push with the onset of each contraction. I did this a few times and thought I was going to die. But, apparently, I was not pushing the right way or hard enough. This lasted for about 30 minutes. There was crying and sobbing. Well, I was crying and sobbing. The doctor left the room for about 15 minutes, during which time the nurses and C were my coaches. I can’t say enough positive things about the L&D nurses that were there for the birth of Baby V. And I shall not forget to mention my darling husband, C, who really came through in more ways than I could have anticipated. He was there for every minute of the delivery and fully engaged in the whole process, even holding my left leg for all the pushes.

10:00-10:57 pm: This last hour was spent pushing on each contraction, and it was, in fact, the hardest physical thing I’ve done in my life to date. The pain was more intense than words can really describe, and as I write this nearly 2 weeks after the birth, I am still a bit sore.

10:58 pm: Baby V made her appearance after some serious pushing and straining. Of course, my child had to come out with her little arm alongside her head. I, and the doctor, are pretty sure that is why the last three pushes were so difficult and why I needed more than a few stitches post-partum. The other thing no one tells you is that the room looks like a crime scene when it’s all over. Housekeeping actually came up to the room to mop before I went to sleep.

She did come out crying and snorting but she was so perfect! As soon as she came out, the doctor put her on me. Thankfully, she was not covered in too much guck. Some babies look almost alien with how much vernix and such are on them. C cut the cord and the nurses took her over to be cleaned and weighed. I am amazed at how big Baby V was. No one, including the doctor, expected her to be almost 10 pounds. I admit that I’m sort of glad she’s a bigger baby. She is much easier to handle, and tends to sleep a wee bit longer because of her size.

She did fine on all the tests that the hospital neonatal unit does before release and her first pediatrician appointment went well. She is healthy and beautiful, and there is nothing more C and I could have asked for. I have never known more love for anyone or anything. So long we waited for this, and now that she is here, we are simply over the moon.

She's Here!

2009-08-24T12:06:00.000-07:00

sorry to post this a week late, but my peanut arrived last monday night, 8/17/09, at 10:58 pm. she was a whopping 9 lbs, 12 oz and 21 inches long! c and i couldn't be more in love. when i get some more free time (hopefully sooner than later), i will blog the birth story and post pics of baby veronica.

xoxoxo,
renee

Where Has The Time Gone? And Que Tom Petty

2009-08-15T20:19:00.000-07:00

The summer has just flown by. The whole month of July came and went and here we are in the middle of August. This summer is obviously so different for me than any other previously and I wish I could report that I’ve had some great revelations about myself as I am about to embark on motherhood. Alas, I do not. To be truthful, I haven’t had much time to reflect on anything too deep. I worked until the last day of July, with those weekends filled with preparing the nursery, washing baby clothes, sorting all the things that baby will need for her arrival.

In the last two weeks that I’ve been home waiting to go into labor, I’ve grown larger and moving around is increasingly difficult. I have mostly been sitting on the couch reading and napping. I do take some walks, usually around the house and lawn, lamenting the sad state of my gardens. They are completely overgrown with weeds, the shrubs are in need of pruning, and the limelight hydrangeas blooms could really be cut back and brought in the house rather than hit the ground from their own excess weight. I simply cannot wait to be able to bend over again!

Amazingly, I am now 40 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I am pretty sure that I read some statistic somewhere that stated IVF babies come early. Defying the statistics and in the fashion of her procrastinating mommy and daddy, this kid is running late. I was supposed to be induced last Friday, as per the doc’s orders, but the hospital called on Thursday night (at 10:50 pm!) to inform me that they were full to the brim and could not take me. Um, what?? That’s right - L&D and the maternity floor were/are completely booked. Wow, color me shocked. I supposed that in the summer, as for many other things, baby having was slowed. Not so. The doc ordered me to go to the hospital on Friday anyway for an ultrasound and some monitoring to make sure that everything is ok for the weekend. I report that all is well. Amniotic fluid is only slightly below average, baby’s heartbeat and activity level is fine, my blood pressure is fine.

Nothing to worry about, right? Not exactly.

For over a week now, I am 1 cm dilated and the cervix is in the posterior position. The doc did say I am 50% effaced, but still – only 1 cm!!??! The doc’s plan is to take it slow on Monday and she told me to be prepared that the baby will probably not be born until Tuesday, but I am concerned that labor will be so much harder and longer. That is what I’ve heard about being induced, anyway. Obviously, we want to avoid a Cesarean birth, although I am certainly willing to do whatever is necessary for the health of the baby. I just recall many women telling me horror stories about 30+ hours of labor only to have a C-section after the baby is too stressed from hours and hours of contractions and pushing. I hope to avoid this by moving around as much as I can during the labor. Well, we all know what happens to best-laid plans, so I’m going to be flexible.

On a happier note, I have completely abandoned the diabetic diet in the last two weeks, choosing instead to enjoy ice cream and various other sweets at will. I have gone only slightly over the 25 pound weight restriction imposed by the doc. Now, I realize I will bemoan that extra slice of cake I had yesterday once the baby is here and I am on the quest to shed the extra pounds, but in case this is my only pregnancy, I at least want to look back and say I enjoyed it.

In the meanwhile, I pass the time. True words of one of my favorite musicians: “Yeah, I’ve never known nothing quite like this”, and “The waiting is the hardest part”.

Happy Birthday, C!

2009-07-01T11:57:00.000-07:00

Today is my husband's birthday. I wish for him a magical time for 2 reasons. 1) this is the last birthday of his 30's; and 2) this is his last birthday as a carefree guy with fairly minimal responsibilities to just me, work, the house and the dogs. Pretty soon, he will be a Dad, and everything will be different.

Hope you are enjoying your day, Sweet. I love you!

Excuse Me, a What Plan??

2009-06-30T09:44:00.000-07:00

Good thing I don’t make any claims about being hip or on top of the latest trends. I do tend to think of myself as being well-informed on national and global events, thanks to NPR and various online news outlets. I am up to date on medical advances, techniques, and drug approvals; I am fairly well acquainted with recent book best-sellers and sought-after novels; I am getting up to date on organic and pesticide-free gardening thanks to many online forums and some magazines that I read. There are probably a host of other timely things I am familiar with, but just cannot think of at that moment. However, I couldn’t tell you who are the hottest Hollywood stars or describe for you the haute couture of the season. I don’t really know the most popular restaurant chains or trends in gourmet cooking. I am not familiar with all the counter-culture or grass roots movements. In short, there are things I know and things I don’t. Just like everyone else on the planet, right?

And up to this point, this has never been a problem for me. I am interested in a certain things and have never much been bothered by what fashionable buzz I don’t know. I really don’t care what Paris Hilton wears to nightclubs or who she is dating, and life without this knowledge carries on fairly well. However, I suspect now that there are some things to which I should be making myself aware, attributable to a recent encounter at the doctor’s office. This personal popular culture/trend deficit became blazingly obvious to me at one of my recent OB appointments when the receiving nurse asked me if I had crafted a birth plan yet. Not really missing a beat, I responded in the most natural way for me:

“Sure, I plan to have a healthy baby.”

The nurse looked at me in a funny way and said, “No, I mean, do you have special instructions for the doctor when you are giving birth?”

I guess I looked perplexed, because she immediately piped up, “Some women request special music to be played or they bring a specific item to focus on during labor.”

Ok, so, I was perplexed. I had not heard of this before, nor had I thought about it for myself. Special music? Really? I guess I have an antiquated idea (by this point) in my head about childbirth. I just assumed that I would go to the hospital when the time comes, have some labor, it will hurt, and then the baby comes out. I was not aware that a “scene” could be created, complete with pre-determined ambiance for my child’s entrance into the world.

Since this embarrassing encounter with the nurse – although when I discussed this with the doctor, he dismissed it as nothing important and we had a whole conversation about natural labor versus epidural and the possibility of C-section if that becomes necessary – I have done some serious research into the so-called Birth Plan. Apparently, some women and their partners come prepared with written instructions on how the whole thing should go down. I presume that most of the time, things go well, and a plan can be followed. Of course, worrier that I am, my brain mulls the possibility of unpredictable things happening during labor. I have heard enough stories about labor progressing only so far, after which an emergency C-section must be performed for the safety of the mother and infant. That would be my luck. But back to the Birth Plan.

Not only can there by music and dim lights, but there are birth coaches, doulas, midwives, water birthing centers, birthing balls. I admit to being aware of home births and birthing chairs (these I have seen at museums, usually in the Middle Ages wing). I will not disparage anyone’s choices, but honestly, home birthing in modern times is associated (in my mind) with a certain fringe element of the population that distrusts the medical establishment, government, any food not organically grown, vaccines for their children, and organized religion. Clearly, I am not a part of said element. I am planning to breastfeed, however, and we will be using cloth diapers, so I think I score some points on those items.

Anyway, the Birth Plan looks like a written list of instructions for everything from fetal monitoring to labor induction to what to do with the baby immediately after it is born. Some of the instructions on sample Birth Plans I read are a bit confounding and weird, though:

“I do not want any kind of anesthesia offered to me during labor, though I would like it available if I specifically request it.” (Why can’t you just say no if offered?)

“I would prefer to keep the number of vaginal exams to a minimum.” (Isn’t it kind of important to monitor how the cervical dilation is going?)

“I prefer to risk a tear rather than have an episiotomy” (Are you kidding me? Ouch!)

“I would like to wear my own clothes during labor and delivery.” (Could be restrictive, no?)

“If I am less than five centimeters dilated and my water has broken, I would like the option of returning home.” (Really? Doesn’t seem like a good idea to me if the water is broken.)

“I would like no one to speak during the actual delivery.” (Who are you, TomKat and the Scientologists?)

“I would like to catch my baby and pull it onto my abdomen as it is born.” (Sounds like you need to do a serious crunch to make that happen.)

“I would like the option of taking home the placenta.” (Wow, that’s gross.)

I found the research fascinating, to be frank. I read every on-line forum and chat room I could to glean information on what the latest trends are for Birth Plans. I read parenting magazines that I avoided for most of the pregnancy and even read that awful book, What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Although I was skeptical, as it turns out, I also will have a Birth Plan!

Because I am considered a “high risk” maternity patient, C and I are electing to play it safe and go to the hospital for the birth. We are requesting that my OB do whatever is necessary to ensure the safety of the baby, and this can include fetal monitoring devices, IV fluids, a C-section if necessary, vaginal exams, and the use of interns and specialists, if needed. Also, since we are planning to collect and bank the cord blood, I have to write that down, as well. So, not all is lost, you see. I will be part of this trend in my own little way. Wish me luck!

Up in Smoke?

2009-06-12T08:07:00.000-07:00

Well, it looks like it’s poised to happen, folks. The USFDA is very close to being handed the reigns to regulate tobacco products. The vote in the Senate yesterday is being hailed as “historic” and well, that sounds a little overly dramatic, but if the House votes the same way today, then FDA will have been granted expanded powers. Is this a good thing or not? Let’s do some analysis, shall we?

What I do for a living is interact with FDA on behalf of my employer, Big Evil Pharma (BEP), and negotiate with them to get new drugs approved. I do not claim to be an expert on FDA regulations for every office, and there are 4: human drugs, medical devices, animal drugs, foods and cosmetics. My area of expertise is in the human drug arena, which is exactly where tobacco products will be regulated.

FDA has come under some serious criticism in recent years (recall Vioxx, please) for being too lax and “industry-friendly”. One of my favorite criticisms I hear from people not in the pharma industry is, “Big drug companies have FDA in their back pocket”. Not hardly. I can assure you that since Vioxx, the Agency pendulum has swung so far in the other direction, it’s practically crippling to the drug industry in some cases. I am not sure about foods, but a recent case is telling.

In May, FDA issued a Warning Letter to General Mills stating that they are making unapproved drug claims on Cheerios with regard to lowering cholesterol. I think the Cheerios claim is something like, “Lower Your Cholesterol in 4-6 Weeks”. FDA allows for what are called “approved health claims” on certain foods, and the one GM was trying to invoke (I think?) is soluble fiber from whole grain oats is associated with a reduced risk of coronary heart disease (21 CFR 101.81). But since it is not written that way on the Cheerios cereal boxes, FDA has drawn a hard line in the sand and called their cereal messages “unapproved drug claims”. Now, I think most reasonable people can understand that Cheerios are not a drug, and it was probably never the intent of GM to market them as such. But the law is the law, and the Code of Federal Regulations is the law.

As I understand the tobacco ruling, FDA will not be permitted to ban combustible tobacco, but they will have the authority to regulate ingredients, formulations, packaging and advertising – all things they have power to do now with drugs, devices, foods and cosmetics. Curious that they cannot impose an outright ban like they can for other dangerous drugs, but ok, I understand the power of Big Tobacco. Critics assert that FDA does not have the necessary resources to handle this. I would like to remind the reader that Congress has granted FDA approval to increase what are called “User Fees” on an annual basis for almost the last 20 years. FDA charges industry something like $900K now to review new drug applications, and by 2010, that fee will be over a million bucks. Industry pays a lot of cash to get into the queue for FDA review (not necessarily approval), an activity for which FDA never assessed a charged prior to the early 1990’s. FDA made the case to Congress that the fees were needed to hire more qualified people to keep the machine running and keep the American public safe. That request was granted and they never looked back. My guess is that the tobacco industry will have to pony up just like the drug industry has. I’ve got no problem with that. My guess is money and resources are not going to be a barrier in the long run to regulation. Perhaps initially there will be a lag, as they gear and staff up the office, but those positions will be filled and there is money to do so.

Proponents of FDA regulation of tobacco claim there are many merits. Two of the most obvious are 1) Reduction of medical spending. According to the American Lung Association, the federal government spends $22 billion on smoking-related illnesses (1). That’s a lot of tax dollars right there. 2) Curbing the appeal of smoking to children in the hopes of actually reducing the number of kids who start the habit in the first place. This would be great, although I’m not so sure how it will work. As it is now, tobacco ads do not run on television, I think billboards advertising tobacco are gone, and I certainly don’t come across magazine ads for smokes anymore. So, where exactly are kids getting the idea to smoke if exposure has become so limited? Home? School? I think we’ve all seen the thetruth.com ads on TV, and they are pretty powerful. To be clear, however, all other nicotine-containing products like gum, patches, lollipops, etc. are regulated as drugs by FDA.

Another, more political criticism, is that this is just another example of big government intrusion into our lives, curtailing our liberties. Well, curtailing our ability to kill ourselves slowly and painfully, you might say. I can understand (but not entirely agree with) the hysteria. Several places have outlawed the use of trans-fats in prepared foods. It gives the appearance of a freedom-of-choice slippery slope.

I am curious as to what my friends on the left think. Especially those who still smoke. Do they see this as big brother tightening his grip on our civil rights? Does this move open the door for government to tell us what to eat, smoke, wear, see, do, speak? Since left-of-center minded folks generally do not oppose (support, even) more regulation (think guns, banking, healthcare) I wonder if they will feel differently about this case since they are directly and perhaps adversely affected. Comments welcomed.

(1) - American Lung Association, 2004

Facebook

2009-06-11T10:00:00.000-07:00

Ok, so another blogger that I follow already posted something similar to this topic, but please allow me to expound on it: Facebook. Who doesn’t have an account by now? Oh, C for one, and another good friend (MC, I’m calling you out here), but practically everyone else I know does. When I first joined about a year ago, I thought it was great fun to look up people from childhood and others I may have lost on the way. Admittedly, I’m not too active confirming people. I generally wait until they find me. I’m not sure why. There are some cases where I just have to be proactive, but it’s not frequent.

Lately, I’ve received lots of requests for friendship confirmation and I just let them sit there on my home page for a while. Some have been there for months. The more I think about it, the weirder it is to “confirm friendship” with someone you haven’t spoken to in 20 years or more. I’m not saying I’m opposed to it – my list of FB grammar school friends is a loud signal that I’m happy to reconnect with people from the past. But there are some confirmations I’m not so sure I really want to make. It’s pretty silly to hold grudges for more than, let’s say, 10 years, right? I mean, I should just get over it by now, yes? And what about those that I don’t confirm? I guess it becomes evident to them at some point that I’d just rather not be bothered, right? Clearly, I’ll never be one of those people with 300+ “friends” on FB.

What’s worse is that sometimes I feel absolutely no connection with those I’ve confirmed and so I question myself as to why I confirmed in the first place. I read their updates daily and think to myself, “I do not find this person interesting at all”. The common thread we share may have been college, high school or workplace, but if I didn’t speak to them when we were in college, high school or the workplace, what is the point of being “friends” on FB? I never comment on their status, write on their wall, send drinks or quizzes, or give a care, really, about what they’re up to now. It feels mean and that sort of bothers me. Like I’m some kind of FB snob. I think it’s really just malaise and/or apathy.

And of course, there are always those people with whom you do reconnect, read their pages and then become depressed. As in, “Omg, my life is so boring in comparison”. In case you didn’t get the memo, I’m not a world traveler, jet-setter, notable author, hot button issue activist, or NPR interviewee. I’m so *yawn* by contrast. The upside is that most people are fairly interesting, the same, and on the same level. I do admit that I love being shocked with good stuff, though. Here’s an example: some sisters that I used to babysit for found me on FB and we caught up. I can’t help but always think of them as the 4 little girls down the street. But, alas, they are all grown, married and mothers. I think there are 8 or 9 kids between them, some as old as 16! I was just blown away by that. Probably because I’m so old having my first child. But you know, surprised nonetheless.

I definitely embrace the merits of social networking sites like FB, and I genuinely like going on there at least once a day to see what’s up with my regular circle of friends and family. I don’t know that I’m looking for any sort of affirmation or critique here, more like a mind dump on the topic. Comments are, of course, always welcomed.

Hello After Long Absence!

2009-06-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

I haven’t felt much like writing in the last few weeks. Hence, no updates. It’s not because there is a dearth of happenings, it’s just really come down to how I choose to spend my ever-shrinking free time. Lately, I choose reading over writing. I need to spread those activities out more evenly, to be honest, as I have much writing to do, here and otherwise. It’s just that every time I sit to write something, I get this weird feeling and then abandon the post. This time, I’m forcing through.

The month of May – a normally happy month (sisters’ birthdays, Mother’s Day, flowers blooming, Memorial Day Weekend) - was not so hot this year. I’m still not entirely balanced after the sudden death of one of my closest and oldest friends. Thinking about it too much makes my heart hurt and my head fuzzy. It’s as if I can’t really compute that he’s gone. I have many thoughts about this, but they are all over the place. Like post-it notes in my brain, and not quite ready to be sorted into logical word order. All I can muster at this time is this: the sense of loss is so different for me with Pat’s death than with any other I’ve experienced thus far, including my beloved grandparents. I think it’s fairly obvious that it’s because his death was unexpected, and he was young, whereas my grandparents were old, sick, and I had plenty of opportunity to spend time with them, say and do all the things I wanted to and thank them for their lifetimes of love and guidance. Moving on for now…

I haven’t been able to do as much gardening this year as in previous years. I’ve done a fair amount but I feel the beds are in bad shape. Relying on a hired guy to help with the mulching and such is not my preferred way of doing things. The few weekends we’ve had that weren’t rainy, he wasn’t available. Our annual Father’s Day BBQ is fast approaching, and we’re scheduled to have another party in July for friends, and I’m just worried. You’d think with a new baby coming in August, I’d be a bit less concerned about my flowers. I can’t help it. I have this vision of what my gardens will look like in a few years, and every Spring/Summer season is an opportunity to cultivate that vision more.

I’m thinking that I want a rain barrel or two and I need a new area for composting the flower bed mulch. Right now, the area where C composts the grass and leaves is running into my flower mulch, and while that’s not a terrible thing, I like the darker color of the flower mulch on the beds, rather than the brownish compost from the leaves and grass. I know that I won’t get to it this year, but if C or the hired guy can build me a large pen, we’ll be in good shape for next year.

Now is the segment where I complain about my job. Are you ready? You may not feel sorry for me, since I have a really “good” job by most (financial) standards, and let’s face it, in this current clime, there are few and far good ones out there. I know that when I took this job, I felt as if I had reached Big Pharma Mecca. You know, this company is practically revered by all kinds of Wall Street analyses, economists, working mother magazines and in general, by people who use our myriad of consumer and baby products. Let me set the record straight. This place is no heaven – it’s much closer to the fiery netherworld, to use such comparisons.

For example, I have survived 2 rounds of lay-offs only to emerge as the sucker who gets to do the job of at least 3 people. I was “approved” for a promotion in January – for the 2nd time in 2 years – only to be told that when it will come through is a mystery. So many other departments have to promote first, don’t I know? Since word got out that I’m out on maternity leave starting in August, cross-functional team colleagues have piled on the amount of work to an insurmountable level at this point. As if I am never coming back to the office. My favorite thing to quip lately in conversation goes something like this, “Well, you know that what you want me to do in 1 month’s time normally takes 3, but for YOU, I can do it! Sure, of course!” Otherwise, I am not a “team player”. I was recently told by my boss that we all must be careful about what and to whom we say “no” in the “team” environment. Are you kidding me? My actual job function is to provide guidance on federal regulations governing drug development, but I must be careful to whom I say “no”? This is like bizarro world. Believe me, I’m counting down until leave. Calendar says 37 working days.

Writing of maternity, things are well on that front. I have something like 60 days left until baby’s actual due date. I’m a bit scared. The nursery is coming along, and I will post some photos when it’s done. Last ultrasound showed her to be right on target for weight and development, for which we are so thankful. I am feeling great, actually, just moving slower than usual and feeling extreme fatigue on some days. As in, I can fall asleep sitting up at my desk. I have some other news on the pregnancy, which I will share in another post since this one is becoming too long, I fear.

Dessert Therapy

2009-05-11T12:49:00.000-07:00

Me and the baby in-utero are going to eat a bowl of chocolate ice cream when I get home. It's been a tough couple of days.

A HUGE Thank-You to the Readers!

2009-04-27T10:31:00.000-07:00

To all those who came out to support the Hunterdon County Library Used Book Sale this weekend and to all those who so selflessly dedicate hours and hours of time in preparation for this monumental event. This weekend saw another great turnout for the largest fund-raiser that the library holds annually. Sunday was unusually busy with all kinds of buyers from the casual reader to book dealers. I cannot wait to find out the total amount raised, but if we can use the years past as a marker (and I think we can since most of the books for sale were a buck or two - a great deal especially in these economic times), we should have made somewhere just around 100K, give or take a few thousand. Yay for the library!

Also, it's pool weather 'round these parts. Whoever heard of 94 F on an April weekend in New Jersey??

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream...

2009-04-23T07:41:00.000-07:00

Sleeping is getting harder and harder at night. Either side is definitely not comfortable for more than about 2 hours, and sleeping on my back is no longer an option. Stomach sleeping was never my thing, and even it was, it would be impossible now. I find myself crashing out on the Lay-Z-Boy chair after work for an hour or so and it's about the deepest sleep I get. Plus, the baby is *really* active at night moving around in there. Also, I think she's positioned quite low, as I feel much pelvic pressure, which translates to bladder pressure and having to run to the bathroom oh so frequently. All those jokes I made about C having the bladder of a small rodent... yeah, well this is my payback.

A can of worms is a complex, troublesome situation arising when a decision or action produces considerable subsequent problems. Oh, good.

2009-04-21T14:03:00.000-07:00

I’m doing it. I’m opening the proverbial can of worms (whales) right here on the internet since I can’t really make sense of this dilemma anywhere else.

Here’s my starter question: what should you do when a seemingly rational adult who you have called a friend for many years suddenly writes you a letter that effectively ends your friendship? Cited in the letter are some half-truths, outright falsities and some things you’ve said taken way out of context never intended for the letter writer.

What’s that you say? That I should write a letter of my own in response defending myself? Oh good, because that’s what I’ve done.

Here’s the next set of questions: how long do you wait for a response to the letter you’ve written? Or do you not expect a response?

What’s that you say? Yes, I agree – this is the last thing I need at the moment. I have enough stress with this pregnancy, my ever-demanding job and my grandmother. Not only is the entire matter questionable but the timing is downright lousy.

Last questions: what to do in social situations since me and the letter writer have several friends in common? Ignore all of them? Some of them? Pretend this isn’t happening even though it’s bizarre and upsetting? Make sure everyone knows that there’s a distinct line to be drawn and now we two shall never meet under the same roof?

What’s that you say? Move away from the high-schoolesque drama of which this matter smacks and resume life as usual? Double good, because that’s what I plan to do.

Grandmother

2009-04-17T11:21:00.000-07:00

I've just learned that my only surviving grandparent has Parkinson's Disease. She already has advanced dementia, which seems more and more like Alzheimer's with every passing week, based on her non-responsiveness, hours of vacant staring, and inability to perform basic tasks. But at the most recent trip to the hospital this week, a team of neurologists and geriatric specialists has determined that she did not have a stroke (as Mom suspected), but that she has Parkinson's and cannot return home. It seems as though they believe the best place for Gran is in a rehab center, followed by a nursing home. Until this point, Mom and Aunt have been taking care of Gran at home. Sure, it's been hard since Gran is really not able to pull herself up with any amount of strength and she is barely ambulatory. But now, Gran cannot walk at all. And Mom and Aunt cannot continue to lift her in and out the bed, chair, shower, etc.

Mom is taking this pretty hard. I try to imagine myself in her position, watching as my mother declines mentally and physically at an alarming rate while standing powerless to stop it. I hope that I never have to live through that. I know this can't be easy for Mom. I am sad for her. And sad for all of us, really, since the Gran we have now is a cheap imposter of the grandmother we've known all our lives. I am planning to go visit with Gran tonight at the rehab center. I wish that she will recognize me and be able to talk for a while. But even if she cannot, I will talk, and hope that she's listening.

What, Me Worry?

2009-04-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

I have some news on the pregnancy front. We know that we’re having a girl and she’s developing just fine. I was a nervous wreck leading up the 20-week anatomy scan, but have felt some of the weight of the world off my shoulders since that day. It was pretty amazing to see her on the 3- and 4-D ultrasound machine. All of her limbs, her spine, belly, brain, stomach, lungs are there and normal for this gestational age. She has hair, too! Which could explain all the heartburn I’ve been having.

Now that I’m at 23 weeks, I’m finally wearing maternity clothes and starting to show. And I’ve felt her kicking around in there lately. Sort of like that feeling you get when your stomach drops on a roller coaster – that’s how it feels. Already, she has received gifts from happy grandparents and aunts: a stuffed rabbit, a denim dress, a first book. It’s all so real now but hard to express, in speech and writing. I waited years for this to happen and now that it is, I feel like I’m stuck in the overly-cautious mode that blanketed me for so long. I still haven’t told people at work (some may have noticed, but just not commented, I’m guessing). I insist on seeing the Ob/Gyn every 2 weeks instead of 4 and always demand that we listen for the heartbeat. I still panic when I feel an unusual pain or cramp. I never, ever fail to check for blood on the toilet paper, and I am careful to not lift anything heavy or stretch too much. I’m so obsessive that on days when my breasts do not hurt, I worry. I sleep on my left side only, no matter how uncomfortable and I’ve abandoned all my insensible shoes.

The doctor advised me yesterday that there is some protein in my urine and my blood pressure is slightly elevated. I am now collecting all of my urine output over a 24-hour period in a jug, which I store in the fridge. Yay, that. And I’m taking my BP at home twice daily. I have probably read too much on pre-eclampsia, toxemia, PIH, etc. for my own good. If it is any of the above, it could mean big trouble for me. Possibly bed rest and/or activity restriction or more, depending on the severity. See??? I am justified in my panic; my worries are validated! The feeling that the other shoe is going to drop may not go away until I deliver this baby.

I think I need Lamaze breathing techniques right now.

Here’s the thing: I really, really want to be a happy, carefree, expectant mother. I want to forget about the hell that is infertility treatments and IVF. I want to forget about the miscarriages, chemical pregnancies and frozen embryos that never stuck. I want to leave behind the profound sadness that came with that. I want to forget the months and years of feeling hopeless. I know in my heart of hearts, I cannot ever forget the painful things, because they had a hand in forming the person that I’ve become. I want to tell strangers, “Hey, I’m having a baby!” I want to rub my belly and stand that certain way so it’s noticeable. I want to buy cute baby clothes with wild abandon. These are the things fertiles do, right? That’s what I want to do, too. But I can’t seem to do it exactly like that.

I am taking small steps, however, on the road to preparation. I’ve purchased a scant few things for her bedroom. A Hello Kitty hamper, for one. And then some HK curtains and HK wall border. I’ve been studying paint chips from the hardware store for wall color and then I will order the shades for the windows. The next thing will be to purchase a crib, I think. I‘m pretty sure I know what I have to do; it’s become a matter of doing each thing, and savoring it when it is done. Some may find it chore-like, but not for me. Each little thing I do to get ready is experiencing something I never thought I’d would.

Obsessions and high blood pressure aside, my heart is full of thanks to be here in the moment and know that we’ve made it this far. My uncooperative body with its broken reproductive system has pulled a rabbit out of the hat for me, finally. Now if I could only stop worrying so much.

The Silence is Deafening

2009-04-09T11:17:00.000-07:00

Here's a good article I found linked on Slate.com today. Read it.

Obama's Silence on US Anti-Terror Assassinations

Did You See This??!!?!

2009-03-12T11:50:00.000-07:00

I told you Space Junk was interesting:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090312/ap_on_sc/space_station

Space Station Crew Has Close Call With Space Junk

By SETH BORENSTEIN, AP Science Writer Seth Borenstein, Ap Science Writer 9 mins ago

WASHINGTON – The crew of the international space station had a close call with space junk Thursday.

The three astronauts briefly took refuge inside a Russian escape capsule before returning inside the space station. Officials moved them into the capsule because they were worried that the orbiting outpost might get hit with a small piece of passing space debris.

"We've cleared," station commander Mike Fincke radioed to Mission Control in Houston as he prepared to go back inside.

The debris measured about a third of an inch, part of a motor that helped boost a satellite into the proper orbit, said NASA spokesman Kyle Herring. Tiny pieces of debris could cause a fatal loss of air pressure in the station...

A Career Transformation/Echoes with the Sounds of Salesmen

2009-03-02T14:58:00.000-08:00

February was a busy month. Sorry there were no updates here. Let me summarize now: lots of doctor’s appointments, a trip to the hospital with a threatened miscarriage, a new car, vacation trip to Florida, a bad cold, C got a new job, and my work load was frenzied, as usual. This post will be devoted to a topic that’s been on my mind for weeks now. I hadn’t really analyzed everything completely, since I wasn’t even really sure how I felt about it. Now I’m fairly certain that I’ve come to terms with everything and writing it out will provide some more clarity, I think. This is going to be a rather long post. You might want to get a snack.

Here’s the background… As many of you know, my husband, C, is a lawyer. And a darn good one at that. Graduated 3rd in his class as RU Law with a 4.01 GPA; honors include Order of the Coif and Leo Kaplowitz Criminal Law Scholar, active member of Mensa and the Federalist Society. He became an Attorney at Law of the State of NJ in 1999 and was admitted as an Attorney and Counselor of the US Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit in 2005.

C spent 7 years as a Deputy Attorney General for the State of NJ in the Criminal Justice Division as a state prosecutor. He managed to win cases his superiors thought were unwinnable. He persuaded the state supreme court to unanimously vote to correct a recurring problem in the Appellate Division, a rare victory for the state. He was a wonderful appellate brief writer and successfully litigated complex appeals involving a range of issues from the No Early Release Act to a defendant’s effective assistance of counsel to the reliability of eyewitness identifications. C was a hard charger, really enjoying his work and identifying with the civil service he provided. He did not go into private practice after law school; he did not take a corporate law job; he chose to practice an area of law that is unpleasant, sometimes sensational, and woefully underpaid. To say that I was proud of him is an understatement. Despite the perceived shortcomings of the job, I believed him to be full of noble purpose. I still hold that opinion.

After his cancer treatment in 2006, C became depressed. No one really told us that we should have been prepared for it, although thinking back on it now, I can’t believe that we didn’t anticipate it. It’s so perfectly normal for cancer patients (and survivors) to become depressed during or after treatments. I was unprepared and rough with him during that time. I could not understand how he wanted to stay under the covers all day and sleep. He burned through vacation time, then sick time, then unpaid leave. I begged him to go to work, to call HR, to talk to someone at the state and let them know what was happening. He would not or could not, or both.

My depression was so different: I worked and worked and worked to avoid my sorry life. The only thing that didn’t suffer was my job. I lost weight, stopped eating, stopped sleeping, but by Jove, I went to work every day. I kept trying to compare his depression to mine, which was a huge mistake. But it didn’t matter in the end. His department at the state was making some changes at the same time, he didn’t have a great relationship with his boss, and before we knew it, he was severed from a thing at which he excelled, a thing that brought him personal satisfaction and pride. C spent the next 20 months unemployed and still depressed. I remember being so worried about our future and finances, and then I became angry as time wore on. Finally, he saw a doctor about the depression and we began seeing a marriage counselor. Things improved, but slowly. The specifics of that period of our marriage are not the subject of this post, but as you can imagine, it was a difficult time.

A breakthrough came in June of 2008 when a small law firm hired C. We were so happy! He would start anew, learn new aspects of the law (business law, specifically), get more court time, earn a really awesome salary and meet new people. We bought him some new suits, shirts and ties. Things were looking up! C was very honest about his lack of business law experience with the partners and they claimed to understand that there would be a learning curve and that he could take some time to get up to speed.

In just 4 short months of employment at the new firm, I noticed that C was having difficulty sleeping, he became lethargic, detached, and more withdrawn. Despite medication, the depression symptoms were on again in full swing. He was working very long hours (to be expected, I understand), but getting more and more new case assignments with very little guidance. I could tell he didn’t like what he was doing, didn’t find that area of law the least bit interesting. He was placed in a new wing of the building, apart from all the other attorneys, and I get the sense that everyone was rather siloed at that office. It didn’t take too long before the managing partner was lecturing C about his low quota of billable hours. The other shoe eventually did drop, and once again C was unemployed.

C called some old friends at the state. He found out that a whole new set of folks were in charge. Returning to the state seemed like a possible option, but it was not to be. A hiring freeze was on, so no dice there. He sent out resumes to every county in the state, hoping for openings in the prosecutor’s office. No dice there, either. He went on a couple of interviews for federal positions with the Attorney General’s Office in Philadelphia and Newark. Still, no luck. He sent CV’s to local law schools, universities, and community colleges for adjunct positions to teach Criminal Justice, but his experience in the real world precluded him from actually having a shot in academia. He confessed that if he could not go back and practice criminal law, then he would not be a lawyer at all. I think that was the point in time where he gave up on being a lawyer.

And that brings me to the heart of this long ramble. My bright lawyer husband is now a car salesman. A happy, well-adjusted car salesman. He sings in the shower. He doesn’t lie in bed until noon. He’s always on the phone, making follow-up calls about specific cars he’s located for people. C always claimed that he’s anti-social, likes to be alone, and that working with the general public sucks. Ha! That couldn’t be further from his truth. He’s a very social animal. He’s actually happy.

We may be able to draw some corollaries between lawyers and car salesmen – well, the jokes are good (If a lawyer and a car salesman were drowning and you could only save one…) – but in all seriousness, they both have to be direct, truthful, convincing and be able to sell something to someone, whether it be a Jeep to your neighbor or a conviction to a jury. I get that.

But it was not so easy to get here. I was perplexed as to why someone with C’s credentials would take a job that anyone could do. I admit it’s terribly snobbish, classist even, to feel that way. I can’t really justify my position, but I offer that maybe because I am so proud of what he achieved as a lawyer, I am loathe to see that talent wither. And what about all that education? And the law school loans? We had some arguments about it. Not about the new job, per se, as I am happy that he’s working and pleased with his new found career. The arguments were about my reluctance to admit that he’s no longer a lawyer and now a car salesman. One of the GM’s at the dealership even remarked to me when I met him, “I guess you don’t tell too many people your husband is a car salesman now”. That statement was poignant, and hit me because it was as if he could read my mind. Defensively, I shot back, “He’s so much happier now than he was in private practice. One’s title isn’t everything”.

And I’ve been selling that line to myself and everyone else since that brief conversation. I think I believe it now. I want to believe it. It’s absolutely true, isn’t it? Doing something you love is so much more important than having a title or being stuck in a job/career that makes you miserable. I am holding onto a thread of hope that he will someday return to Criminal Justice. I’d like to think that if it is his true calling, then the planets and stars will align and he’ll get an opportunity to go back. But if not, or in the meantime, he’s going to be a darn good car salesman.

Irresponsible

2009-01-31T06:19:00.000-08:00

That’s the word on the street. Well, the infertile blogosphere street. And given the scant few facts that we have now, I have to agree. I am, of course, writing about the octuplets born earlier this week to a California woman. This story has provoked shock and outrage in the IF community, and rightfully so. Here’s why:

1. This kind of publicity does nothing to bring understanding about infertility. In fact, the opposite is true. People who may already have misinformed notions about infertility will look at this recent happening as yet another example of infertiles going to unnatural lengths to overpopulate the planet. This may reinforce their ideas that fertility drugs and treatments are bad or dangerous. There already exists such a knowledge gap about infertility, that this causes some alarm. I have met fertiles that think every fertility treatment results in a litter of babies, but that’s not too much of a stretch considering some fertiles I know didn’t completely understand their own reproductive cycles and managed to get pregnant. The point I’m trying to make is that infertility is such a heartbreak to those who are afflicted with it, and the majority of our baby-making peers have no idea what it is, how it is managed, or care, actually.

2. The extent of medical/clinical intervention is not clear. From the latest reports, it is not clear what type of fertility treatment this woman had. According to her mother, it was an IVF cycle, and all 8 eggs implanted. That admission by the mother has sparked some outraged commentary from reproductive endocrinologists around the country. No fertility doctor worth anything would implant 8 embryos at once. It is simply not done as a general rule. Depending on the patients’ age, 2-3 embryos are implanted. The most common multiple births arising from IVF treatments are twins, not octuplets. Implanting 8 embryos is taking health risks that far outweigh the benefits to the mother and the potential children. Irresponsible, for sure. Many of the bloggers are writing about selective reduction of the embryos, and how the mother should have done that. I can agree with her on this point, as I would not electively remove any while they were still viable. However, I would also not elect to put in 8 at a time so I’d never be in a position to make that hard decision.

It seems much more likely that this was a result of ovulation-stimulating meds that are to be used in conjunction with monitoring and timed intercourse or intrauterine insemination. Ov-stim meds range from mild to heavy duty, and are usually the first line of defense in fertility treatments. I think I did something like 9 cycles (3 with Clomid and 6 with Gonal-F) before we resorted to IVF. But, the ov-stim meds are still monitored cycles, where the endo is checking continually to see how many eggs you will release. In cases where more than 2 or 3 look like they will come down the tube, the endo may cancel the cycle and advise the patient against intercourse unless they are willing to take a chance on a higher order multiple pregnancy. What’s sort of cloudy in this case, is that the woman showed up at her clinic already 3 months pregnant. Where was the previous clinician? Was there one? Did she obtain the meds herself and do this unmonitored? Since when do potent and expensive fertility drugs become recreational?

3. The octuplet mother is not an infertile. She already has 6 children. Now, I do not presume to tell people how many children they should have – that is a personal decision. But I have to wonder how, exactly, does one arrive at the conclusion that 6 just ain’t enough? I really scratch my head at that one. You know, there are millions of women out there suffering (some in silence, some not) about not being able to conceive 1 child, so the logic here blows me away. But despite the reports on this event and the related reports about multiple births and fertility treatments this story has cascaded, please don’t call this woman infertile. In the infertile world, we call her a super-fertile. She’s on the order of people like the Duggars.

I certainly hope that this was not a publicity stunt, but I can’t help but think that these people will become celebrities of sorts, like all giant families. The public and the media make much of these kinds of curiosities. How soon until they’re on Oprah? I personally think that she must be narcissistic and selfish. Only someone completely self-absorbed would be so reckless to take chances with her life and the life of the babies. And what about the other 6 children? Shouldn’t she have been concerned about them if something were to happen to her?

4. What does this cost? Not just in terms of money, but quality of life. It’s not hard to imagine that 14 children in one home cannot possibly get the kind of attention they all need, even with grandparents around. I think 8 newborns will require that someone attend to at least one of them around the clock. And from what I’ve read in the article, the mother does, in fact, live at home with her parents in a 3 bedroom ranch. Someone please explain to me how 14 kids and 3 adults will manage in a 3-bedroom ranch.

The cost of this event, in dollars, I’m sure, is staggering. And who, exactly, will pay for the team of doctors at the hospital? The NICU that the 8 babies will stay in? The food, medical care, and clothing? I understand that some diaper company has donated all the diapers that the 8 babies will ever need. I applaud that, but wonder about the overall lifetime cost. It doesn’t sound like the mother works (how could she with all those kids?), and her father has to return to Iraq to make more money? There is no mention of a husband, boyfriend, or significant other, so, who or what will fund this family’s latest growth spurt? The taxpayers of California, I suppose. The burden is unfair. Chalk up another reason why we need universal healthcare.

Fertility treatments, by contrast, are not routinely paid by health insurance plans and are the total responsibility of the patient. A certain number of states have mandated that health insurance plans include fertility treatments to be covered, but not in all cases. And there aren’t charities that donate fertility drugs or procedures to those who cannot afford the out-of-pocket expense. I have been lucky enough to have my treatments covered by insurance thus far (although I have reached the lifetime maximum benefit, and if I pursue additional treatments in the future, it will be totally out-of-pocket for me), with a hefty co-pay, of course. I consider myself to be one of the privileged ones.

In summary, the case as we presently know it, is bizarre and unfortunate. In my opinion, the kids are starting out at a disadvantage, but I hope that they can go on lead lives of some normalcy. I will be watching the news progress on this story, as I am terribly curious to learn the hard facts. If it turns out that it was an IVF, shame on the irresponsible doctors; if it turns out that fertility drugs were used inappropriately, shame on the irresponsible mother. If it turns out that this was a completely miraculous, random, unplanned act of nature, I’ll eat my words.

Thanks to PJ and Patrice for inspiring me to put fingers to the keyboard and put my $0.02 out there, too.

Missed Out

2009-01-22T17:24:00.000-08:00

i totally missed all the inaugural stuff on live coverage on tuesday. there were some work meetings that couldn't be changed, since they are standing every week - drat! i watched it all later, but i sorta feel like i missed something major. well, in fact, it was major. it's akin to that feeling you may have when you're lying in bed in the wee hours of the morning and you realize you've missed an important deadline and there's no recourse. it stinks.

ah, well, in any case, HAIL TO THE NEW CHIEF! i have so much optimism for the next few years, despite the enormity of campaign promises you know he can't possibly keep. but i believe that things are going to be very different, starting with our country's image around the world. it was so damaged by the actions of the last administation, it's almost difficult to believe.

Pictures of My 'Hood

2009-01-11T16:59:00.000-08:00

i think my blog needs some photos. we didn't get the snowstorm predicted (naturally), but we did get a little and i thought it would be ok to snap some shots around my neighborhood today. it sure was cold (about 27 F) and windy, especially by the river. based on the overwhelming response to my camera request, these were taken not with a new camera, but with the little fuji with the cracked screen. you can click on the images to see them larger.

here is the frenchtown bridge over the delaware river and a shot of the river to the north. frenchtown has a big parade and block party on bastille day in july. that's pennsylvania on the other side of the bridge.

here's a photo of our favorite thai restaurant, now closed due to old electrical wiring that the building owner refused to update. we have not had thai chili food in over a year.

the lonely view down river road.

a disgruntled neighbor exercising the first amendment.

one of our neighbors has a dairy farm.

another one has horses.

deer tracks and my shadow.

here's a little creek that i know black bear visit for drinking. so far, i've not seen one.

icicles on rocks are neat.

here's the one lane bridge on our street over the lockatong creek.

view to the east of the bridge. you can ice skate on the pond on top when it's cold enough, but it hasn't been cold enough in a couple of years.

the lockatong west of the bridge towards our house.

i had fun taking these, despite the cold. one of my new year's resolutions is to take more photos and keep the camera handy.

Calling All Photographers

2009-01-08T07:01:00.000-08:00

we need a new digital camera. any suggestions? we have a little fuji thing now, which i dropped on a hike last summer. the screen is smashed, although the camera still works. the only way to see pics is to load them onto the computer, though. i think we're looking to spend no more than $500 on a new one. all information welcome. and thanks in advance!

Happy New Year

2009-01-01T11:26:00.000-08:00

Now that the holidays are almost over - the visiting, the eating, the wrapping and cards, the carols, the cookies – I’m sort of glad. Not that I really over-did it or exerted some great amount of energy this holiday. No, quite the opposite. I hardly did a thing. And Christmas was just wonderful this year! I really had a lovely time with family on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. On other days I got to see old friends from near (Philadelphia) and far (Houston), and that’s a grand time usually filled with too much alcohol and good belly laughs. This year was no exception, other than I drank ginger ale. And I certainly missed those who remained far away (California). We stayed in for New Year’s Eve, and what a relief. It’s been incredibly cold the last 24 hours or so, and I liked having no pressure to be somewhere, host something, or pick out a fancy outfit.

Since December 24th, I’ve spent all my vacation time lounging in my pajamas or sweats, reading, napping, playing with the dogs and watching movies. It’s been glorious. Two things of note: if you haven’t seen the HBO series, John Adams, go rent it. It’s really well done. C and I are enjoying it very much. We’re not quite through the series, but so far we’re just beyond the American Revolution and General Washington has been elected the first president. The second noteworthy item is that I finally saw The Sound of Music. I know it’s hard to believe that I’ve lived this long without seeing it, but it’s true. And it was a lovely 3 hours spent, no matter how unbelievable. I’ve been singing the tunes to myself for days.

In any case, I’m looking forward to January and February. For many, these months are seen as the doldrums of winter. I’m not so sure about that. I’m hoping for some serious snow in the coming weeks to liven things up. Also, celebrating Grandma’s 87th, Valentine’s Day, and a trip to Florida at the end of February are some of the things on our calendar. Not too bad, right? And before we know it, my tulips and daffodils will be pushing up. Plus, I am anxious to progress to the second trimester. It feels weird even writing that. As in, I’m hopeful that this pregnancy is going to be fine and that come August, I will have a real, live baby to hold.

On Christmas Eve, we saw the fetal heartbeat, which just floored C and I. Happiness and joy don’t adequately describe what I felt. And again, yesterday, we went in for another ultrasound and saw it again. The fetal pole is measuring as it’s supposed to, and as of today, I am exactly 8 weeks pregnant. It hasn’t been 8 weeks since the implantation, but when you do IVF, you still count back to what would have been your ovulation date and first day of last period. And something about the day they retrieve the embryos factors in. So, that puts my weekly count on Thursdays. Suddenly, Thursday becomes my favorite day.

Morning sickness is certainly not limited to the morning. I often feel nauseous throughout the day, and in the evenings it’s particularly pesky. I have definite food aversions and cravings. The strangest is that I’ve not had coffee since before the retrieval and implantation. Now, I really used to like coffee. But, while stimming with the hormones back in November, I lost my taste for it and it hasn’t come back. Decaf Earl Grey tea has replaced coffee as my favorite hot drink in the morning now. Plain sour cream, beef and oranges have also become can’t-live-withouts lately. If only salad greens were as appealing to me as they once were. Strangely, though, I have lost a few pounds since becoming pregnant. Since I’m overweight to begin with, the RE thinks nothing of it.

I’m still taking the intramuscular progesterone shots in the backside, but the dose is winding down. I will go back and see the RE again next Wednesday for another u/s and b/w. If all is well, he will release me to my regular OB/GYN. That scares me, and not because my OB/GYN isn’t a good doctor. He’s great. It scares me because I’m pretty sure that I will be treated like every other pregnant fertile there. I’m a little spoiled by getting weekly ultrasounds and blood draws to reassure me that I’m still pregnant at the RE’s office. I’m fairly certain that the regular OB/GYN does not do this. And from what I know about fertiles, they usually don’t even have to see the OB/GYN until 10 weeks after finding out they are pregnant! That is like crazy, alien, nuts to me. I am able to meticulously track every step of my pregnancy from the beginning, excepting the exact day the embryo implanted itself in the uterus. I do know it was somewhere between day 6 and 11, however. Waiting a month between appointments is terrifying. As it is now, I squeeze my breasts daily to make sure they’re still sore. And forget about the dollar-store pregnancy tests. I have made the shareholders of that company rich. These are the kinds of things that sort of set me apart from a pregnant fertile. Not that we need any more societal or cultural divisions, but anyone who’s been though years of fertility treatments and finally gets pregnant can likely attest that neurotic, but pregnancy- affirming, behaviors may be exhibited by the newly-minted expectant mother. And are probably not things that fertiles do. I need to start thinking and acting like a fertile. You know, anticipating only good things, not worrying like the sky is falling every minute of the day.

Well, it is January 1st and I’m going to resume my relaxed vacation jollity. This means visiting friends and family, dinner out, and more lounging in sweat pants later on. 2009 is going to be a great year, I think. We have a lot to be thankful for and much to look forward to (I am reserving political leanings here, but think new president!). Happy New Year, all!

Flu, Food Poisoning, Other?

2008-12-22T08:19:00.000-08:00

Ugh. Something hit me hard over the weekend. It wasn't pretty. I thought perhaps it was just a bit of morning sickness (which I actually got a little giddy about, I might add), but no. Clearly, there was more to it. I will not provide the awful details. C was so good at taking care of me, from running out to get ginger ale and saltines to keeping the fire going while I slept on the floor in front of it. Today is much better, I just have some residual chills/hot flashes and achy legs and abdomen.

Terrible timing, too. I missed dinner at MC's yesterday and didn't get any of the wrapping done that I had planned. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Merry and Bright

2008-12-19T05:46:00.000-08:00

Despite the horror show that is my job where the politics and drama of big fish versus little fish vying for power in a large circumference of pond scum unfolds daily, I remain above complete demoralization and despair. The last two weeks at work have been the most difficult in my working life thus far. I do not exaggerate. But, no matter, I am cheerfully darting towards Christmas Vacation. And yes, Vacation is so important here it warrants a capital letter.

True to my word, I Grinched out on Christmas decorating: no 10-foot spruce, no balls, baubles, or garland; no lights, no baking. The only thing I could muster was some cards and a wreath on the door. To my delight, my husband did not indolently sit by and let this Christmas atrocity occur. He put out the plastic choir people on the porch, the tacky icicle lights, the fiber-optic tree, the stockings with our names in glitter glue, the nativity crèche and various other assorted items that just make me squeal with seasonal merriment and joy. He’s even made some cookies. Santa may stop here, after all.

We received a very special present on Wednesday at the RE’s office. Since I am now 6 weeks pregnant, we got to see the little gestational sac in my uterus via the ultrasound camera. The screen showed what looked like a little black bean with a white membrane around it. Apparently, our baby is in there: it’s little respiratory system, heart, and brain forming now. It’s hard to put into words the kind of joy I felt looking at the monitor and even now. I laughed nervously. It was a kind of release, I guess. All that worry and fear about the future unknown had to escape somehow, even if momentarily in the form of a giggle. And yes, there is only one. The other two embryos did not make it, obviously. While I feel sad about that, I am hopeful that the natal environment is now perfect for the single life in there.

I am very much ready to celebrate the holidays. I am savoring the idea of sleeping late on weekdays, relaxing on the couch with a fire going in the family room, reading a good book for hours - uninterrupted. There will be special time with family on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Another family party on the 26th, and a very special dinner with our truest friends on the 21st. These are the things that I am looking forward to doing. As the years go by (ever faster), I realize that there is just no substitute for my family and friends. Sure, my family is a bit nutty (isn’t everyone’s?), and the number of really honest friends close to my heart seems to get smaller all the time, but I wouldn’t trade what I have for the world.

To top it all off, a winter snow warning is in effect. We could get as much as 6 inches in these parts, and that’s just fine by me. I can finally break out my snow boots, favorite red hat and mittens. I’ve never been much of an athlete, and I never really got into such activities, but things like skiing and ice skating seem like such fun. I’d like to think that I could still ski or ice skate, although I’m probably more inclined to snow tube or go sled riding. For now, I’ll take the snow and enjoy it while it lasts.

Throw Your Arms Around the World at Christmastime

2008-12-08T09:11:00.000-08:00

So, today I mailed a box to Africa. I have never mailed anything to Africa before, so this was a first for me. For some quick background, very dear friends of ours moved to Tanzania a few months back. Not only are they dear friends, but their son is my sweet, beloved godchild. Since this will be the first Christmas without seeing them, I thought it a fine idea to pack up some gifts from Santa and other requested assorted things.

I priced out the cost of shipping this 16-pound box with various international carriers like DHL and FedEx. Several hundred dollars each and certainly cost-prohibitive. I got the best deal at the USPS for $88.50. When I went to the post office this morning to mail the package, I now know why the best deal is had at the USPS. Tracking or delivery confirmation for shipment of packages to Tanzania is not available. But, the USPS automatically insures the package for $110.00 or so, about the value of the contents at no extra charge. I had to fill out a 5-part form and write in big, block letters: GIFTS, TOYS. And check boxes that affirm there are no firearms, hazardous chemicals, agricultural products, meat, perishables, or medical waste in the box. I expressed some concern that if there is no tracking or delivery confirmation, how will I know that the box will make it to the destination in one piece. And what is the likelihood that customs will open the box at all? Not that Matchbox cars, Tinker Toys and Playmobil are contraband items…

According to the postmaster at my hometown post office, shipping gifts to any country is risky. Really? Even Canada or England? Why yes, she informed me. Not only are there taxes that are often collected from the recipient upon delivery, but also there are corrupt customs officials that steal items for themselves. Well, gee, thanks for fueling my fears. I feel a whole lot better. I paid the fee, put my gloves back on, thanked her and headed out to the car. I decided that our postmaster is one of those eternally pessimistic people you hear about (ahem, snicker snicker) and I should be careful to not to catch that kind of attitude, so I left the post office trying to convince myself that I just have to think positively that the box will make it safely to Dar es Salaam and that our friends will receive the box in totality. There will be no hold-ups in customs and the gifts will not be unwrapped or stolen. After all, it is Christmastime, there’s no need to be afraid.

The Doc Just Called and Guess What???!!!!??

2008-12-04T12:19:00.001-08:00

Consumerism, a Confession and Attempted Reform

2008-12-02T12:17:00.000-08:00

I have not participated in the frenzied madness of extreme shopping on Black Friday in years. I simply cannot do it. First of all, I hate crowds and this day brings out the worst in people (see story of Long Island Wal-Mart worker trampled to death by frenzied mob that broke through the entrance way here if you can stomach it). Second, it’s come to represent greed, selfishness, and the kind of reckless consumerism for which Americans are infamous, and that I am not any longer comfortable being labeled. It’s hard to believe that we are in a recession when the footage of half-crazed shoppers climbing over each other to get a flat screen television or toaster is rolling.

I admit that I do mosey out to the Toy Kingdom late in the afternoon on Black Friday. It’s a local, independent toy store and they offer a 20% discount on everything on that day. Who doesn’t love a bargain, and since we purchase gifts for nieces, nephews and godchildren anyway… (I’m totally justifying here) Plus, they offer toys made in countries where materials of construction do not include dangerous chemicals and are not assembled by children themselves. But that’s pretty much it. I don’t comb through the circulars on Thanksgiving Day instead of enjoying the company of family and friends, and I certainly don’t rise so early to be at department stores at 4am. Oh, by the way, this commentary is certainly not a judgment pass on anyone who does participate in Black Friday shopping. It’s more about over-consuming, in general.

Another blogger that I follow recently posted an article from the NYT about a woman in Florida who “sacrificed” a pair of designer jeans so that her daughter could have a mother lode of plastic junk under the Christmas tree. This is it. I even think the woman interviewed in the article went so far as to state that she wants her child to remember that her parents gave her “stuff” even in an economic downturn. There are so many things wrong with that sentiment, it makes me want to cry. Isn’t the meaning of Christmas more than getting “stuff”? What kind of sacrifice is it if you are giving up “designer” jeans? And what’s with all that plastic? Certainly there are more durable and/or educational toys to be had. Or hand-made, even! I hope that if I ever get the opportunity to become a mother, I will live by and teach better values to my children.

In line with all the above, I am in the mode to simplify, as of late. My dad once told me that simplification is something to strive for as one ages, and I have to agree. As I look around my house, it is glaringly apparent that we just have too much stuff and too many things. For sure, I was all about collecting things not that long ago. Stangl pottery, anything pigs, books, CDs, Christmas decorations, etc. It’s so ridiculous now. Last weekend, I had become so agitated by the sight of my cluttered home that I insisted C help me remove the scores of trinkets and knick-knacks from the kitchen area. Just prior to this, we had asked our good friends if they would please refrain from giving us “things” for Christmas. Truly, we don’t need anything at all, and would love it if our friends just spent time with us instead of feeling compelled to buy things. I caught a lot of flack for that request from some friends, but not all.

When I look in my closet and see the count of handbags and shoes that I have, it’s embarrassing. I won’t even begin to speculate on the amount of money that has been blown on designer bags, but it’s shameful. Do I really need all that? Of course not. I do realize that I am lucky enough to be in a position to have purchased it. For sure, I have a great job, we own a nice home, we have stocks and retirement plans (not that they are worth a whole lot these days), and generally lead a financially comfortable life. But I am through with my over-consuming ways. I used to shop for the sake of shopping, as a way to kill time or collect more stuff. I still love antiques, but I’m quite done with collecting them. I have no more room for anything. And I would rather my money be better spent on things that matter or make a difference.

The question for me now is what, exactly, am I going to do with all the excess stuff? It’s hard to imagine parting with much of it. I do have some things tagged for donation. I wonder if I should try to resell at consignment? Yard sale? EBay? What do you think?

Serenity Now!

2008-11-26T11:14:00.000-08:00

The transfer went really well yesterday. It was a very quick procedure, only a few minutes of extreme discomfort with the speculum. 3 embryos were transferred. I think both C and I breathed a sigh of relief when the embryologist told us that they would be transferring 3. We were hoping for that. I still cried anyway. In my defense, I was emotional all day (read: worried and anxious). The Valium helped, but maybe I should have taken it sooner. I guess because the way the rice cake crumbles, we had nothing left to freeze. Out of the 20 fertilized eggs, 17 either stopped growing or presented with abnormal fertilization. And the embryologist noted, “Given what happened last time and your age…” Gee, thanks for the reminder that I’m over the hill, reproductively speaking. After the procedure, I rested in recovery on a tilted stretcher and I said the Rosary. I hope that helped.

I have to give accolades to C, who’s been immensely helpful since the retrieval. I think he might be baking the pies we’re to take tomorrow to Mom’s as I type. He’s been great about not letting me lift or carry anything and he’s been so sweet to constantly ask if I need anything. We might just get through this yet.

I went back to work today (it’s a desk job) to finish up some things before the long holiday weekend. Just when I was about to pack up my things and scoot out early, my phone rang. I did not recognize the number, but answered it anyway. Big mistake. It was Insensitive Girl. Yay, that. She called to wish me Happy Thanksgiving and go on for 25 minutes about her newborn. Terrific! I feigned interest. I figured I better or there could be more bad karma coming my way. The last thing she asked me was how I was doing with the “fertility stuff”. I gave up nothing and simply told her in a matter-of-fact way, “It’s in God’s hands”. Ha! I feel like my late grandmother or great aunt. That is something they would say. Seemed to shut up IG, so I’m ok with it.

Anyway, I am really supposed to relax and stay off my feet. And not worry. Or be anxious. Or think about the possibilities (wouldn’t 3 babies be off the hook???!!!). Just live in the moment and breathe. Thanks to all of you who have wished us well both on and off line. I am thankful and grateful to have such caring friends. Happy Thanksgiving, all!

Egg Update

2008-11-21T10:43:00.000-08:00

Procedure went fine, no complications.
36 eggs retrieved.
Lab called today: 20 fertilized, so I will go in for the 5-day blasto transfer on Tuesday.
OHSS is much worse this time. I'm in alot of abdominal pain. Gatorade is flowing.

In unrelated news... Happy Birthday to my dearest friend. Hope you are spending the day relaxing or doing whatever your heart desires. Thanks for your unflinching support. I love ya!

All Eggs in the Basket

2008-11-19T12:16:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is the retrieval. I’m not too nervous since I’ve beentheredonethat, but not looking forward to the pain so much after I wake up. Last time required 2 shots of Demerol. Yikes. But I’m definitely ready. My ovaries feel like they are going to burst and the side effects of all that eggcess estrogen are unmentionable. Apparently, I have a bumper crop of eggs again and they are all right around the optimal size for ovulation (>/= to 20 mm).

The other thing I am not looking forward to is the OHSS that comes with the afterward. I had a mild-moderate case of it last time and honestly, Gatorade was my savior. Normally, I would not consider drinking anything that artificial and sugary, but the electrolytes in it really do help to keep the water retention and pain in the abdomen at bay. I think I chugged like 2 gallons of it over a week last time.

Anyhoo, the real nail-biter will come on the day afterward when the lab calls to give us the numbers on how many fertilized, divided, etc. Last time around, I had the 5-day blastocyst transfer of 2 units and I’m hoping for that again this time. If the egg quality is just so-so, a 3-day conventional transfer usually happens. ‘Tis better to be a 5-day blasto, so I’m told. Well, actually, depending on the number of blastos we have left, I am going to try and insist that the RE put them all in. I sort of regret that we only put in 2 and froze 1 on the 5-day transfer last time. The lone blasto in the freezer did not like being thawed, apparently, and thus, did not stick when it was implanted back in April. Perhaps if we had implanted all 3 in December, I would have ended up with an actual child. Who knows?

One of the best memories I have about the last go-around was that on the day of the embryo transfer, C was with me in the OR and he had the black and white picture of the 2 blastos that the lab tech gave us in his front left pocket. The picture really looks like 2 rice cakes in a Petri dish, but one of the nurses saw it sticking out of his pocket and commented, “I see you have the first picture of your kids”.

I’m out. Updates tomorrow if I’m not in too much pain. Wish me eggsceptional success!

Oh, the Irony

2008-11-18T14:22:00.000-08:00

I try to be very open-minded about a lot of things. Really, I do. When the world got wind of Thomas Beatie, the first “man” to give birth (“Pregnant Man”), there was chatter from many different corners about him and his pregnancy. You know the usual sirens: the skeptics, the religious right, the dumbfounded, the jubilant, the indifferent. I just shrugged and went with it, because, heck, he really used to be a woman, and let’s face it – he kept his female reproductive organs, even though from the waist up he looks like a male. As I understand it, Thomas underwent an elective mastectomy to remove his breasts and then started a regimen of hormones to achieve some more masculine features such as increased body hair and a pretty convincing facial beard. Thomas is currently married to a woman, and it was their joint decision to have him conceive and carry their offspring. He gave birth – vaginally, mind you – to their first child back in June. A baby girl, I believe. Congratulations are in order.

I don’t claim to understand the trans-gendered community any more than your average consumer, but I do like to think of myself as pretty accepting of people, no matter what their circumstances. I once heard a long bit on NPR about a young boy who knew from a very early age that he was a she and his parents helped him through the process. He was 10 or 12 or something, and I was reduced to tears. The agony that the child suffered, even that young, at having to be a girl trapped in a boy’s body was heartbreaking. I can relate to the psychic pain and certainly respect decisions people make in order to be happy; in these cases, to be who they really are.

Well, here we are in November, just a few months after the birth of child #1, and Thomas has announced that he is in the first trimester with child #2. To be completely honest – and why not? It is my blog, after all - when I heard this news yesterday, I was not happy for Thomas or his family. I felt cheated in the cosmic, universal way. I compared my broke-ass reproductive parts against those of Thomas, the woman-turned-man-with-retained-woman’s-parts-to-reproduce-and-can-reproduce-despite-having-lots-of-testosterone-shots-and-surgeries-to-look-like-a-man, made me sad and then mad. I have taken every step possible to achieve biological motherhood. In fact, I’m repeating the last great hope right now. And what it requires is shooting myself full of the female hormones that my body does just not produce in quantities enough to achieve or sustain a pregnancy. Bitterly, I thought, how great for Thomas that he can still produce those same female hormones despite his attempts to become a full male. And what’s the name of the reproductive endocrinologist that’s making all this happen for Thomas? Maybe I should get his contact information…

You know, it’s bad enough to be outdone by other fertile women, but somehow, this is more stinging than the cycle of usual emotions that an infertile feels when hearing of a pregnancy: surprise, maybe a touch of jealousy, sometimes self-pity, then usually sadness, and ultimately happiness for the expecting. Look, I won’t be lamenting this for too long. In fact, I think I’m over it already. I just wish I were as lucky as Thomas is in the motherhood department (I realize that taken out of context, this sentence could be very funny and/or quizzical). Congratulations are in order for Thomas’ second pregnancy.

So Much for Post-Election Euphoria

2008-11-11T12:20:00.000-08:00

I was able to enjoy myself for exactly 4 hours last Tuesday night at an Obama victory party. It was fun while it lasted. But since then, the last week has been one long reel of bad news, rain, extreme feats of the unheard-of in the office, peppered with fatigue, hormone headaches, and bath towels.

The first bit of bad news is that my company, BEP II (Big Evil Pharma II) is also suffering in this now confirmed recession. We are experiencing massive lay-offs in record numbers, and while my job is not affected this time, I know for a fact that every position in my department has gone up before a review committee to be evaluated for viability in the long term. I was told by a very reliable and confidential source in upper management that I have been identified as one who management will try to preserve since my talents at technical document creation and persuading federal regulators that everything we do here is perfectly medically necessary, are clearly valued. Well, that’s a relief (if I actually believed it). About my colleagues who are “retiring” or having their positions eliminated and packing their personal affects, my heart aches for them. Quite a few have been here more than 25 years, just shy of 30 or some other milestone year where lifetime benefits can be bequeathed. It’s horrible. And I have a kind of survivor’s guilt. For the first two days after the announcements, I stayed in my office with the door shut because I was too cowardly to talk to them. Yesterday, I ventured out and faced it head on. It was good to finally say, “Thank you for all you’ve done for me”, “It was great working with you”, “I’ll miss you”. But after that, especially when there were tears about the unknown future for some of the single moms and middle-aged folks with kids in college and aging parents, it was awkward. In my weird way, all I could do was reach out to hug some of them without saying anything. What is there to say?

On top of all that, I have had some incredibly tight timelines to meet at work, and they were all priority. No triaging allowed. That meant plenty of long days and short nights. I guess I shouldn’t expect to receive any kind of real recognition for that, given the lay-offs and all. Oh, but did I mention that a brand new piece of “art” has been installed in the front of the campus? It’s true. A gigantic red cube with our company name in white running through the middle of the cube sides has been placed at the ring road entrance to the compound, so there is just no mistaking who we are. Forget that there are company signs everywhere, including a giant one a half a mile up the road before you hit the driveway. Really, the cube is huge. It’s probably as big as the LOVE statue in Center City, Philadelphia. It must have been great for all the people who got canned to drive up and see that the company can waste money on a giant red block instead of paying their salaries.

I started taking the stim shots for IVF #2 on Saturday. Wow, what headaches. I remember that last time, the stimming period was longer since the RE kept taking up the doses incrementally to get the desired number of follicles. This time, we’re hitting the juice hard right from the get-go. I am ok today, but the weekend was a little rough. Nausea would come and go with the headache, but I guess it’s to be expected when you artificially jack yourself up with reproductive hormones. Blood draws and ultrasounds are now every other day, but I’m still just trying to take it one day at a time. Because thinking ahead about all the what-if’s just makes a knot in my stomach.

My poor husband hates his new job. Despite what he may think, I really feel bad for him. It’s not fun to hate what you do, especially since you have to spend so much of your time there. For sure, business and commercial litigation is not for him. He misses being a prosecutor so much, and I miss his more pleasant disposition. He actually worked in the office until after 10 pm one night last week, only to have to get up early the next day and drive to Camden for an early court session. Yuck. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that something will open up for him either at the state again or perhaps in the US Attorney’s Office. Hang in there, toots. I love you.

It’s not all doom and gloom. There were bright spots. The most notable one being the Obama victory. Yay, progressives united! Others included me getting a pedicure and having my toenails painted blood red; I finished an amazing book on Bobby Kennedy; I watched some Netflix movies. The topper was that I purchased new white bath towels over the weekend. For whatever reason, this brought me much joy. Probably because the old purple and green ones were splattered with bleach spots and smelled like mildew from the time I left them in the washer too long. Note that that smell never comes out, no matter how many more times you wash the towels and use ammonia instead of fabric softener in the rinse cycle. And I’m looking forward to a hair appointment tomorrow. Bye bye stupid, fine hair that looks terrible. It’s back to shorty locks for me.

Edited to add:

Almost forgot to mention a big happy happening! Some very good friends announced their engagement! Congrats to C & S!! So happy for you.

And... I've fixed the comments section so that ANYONE can comment now. Sorry it took so long!

Election Day

2008-11-04T16:01:00.000-08:00

I hope everyone has exercised their right to vote today.

Baby Booty

2008-10-29T16:13:00.000-07:00

So, it's all here. The drugs arrived yesterday in a giant styrofoam box complete with cold packs.

Lupron Injectible? Check.
Gonal-F Injectible? Check.
Menopur Injectible? Check.
Novarel Injectible? Check.
Doxycyline? Check.
Cipro? Check.
Estrace Tabs? Check.
Medrol Tabs? Check.
Progesterone in Sesame Oil Injectible? Check.
3 different gauge syringes and tips? Check.
Alcohol swabs? Check.
Valium for day of retrieval? Check.

If this works......... priceless.

It's Early

2008-10-28T05:37:00.000-07:00

it's early in the morning and early in the season, but it's snowing here today. i didn't think it was sticking, but oh yeah, it is! eeeeek! i love it. i picked a good day to work from home.

... as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel...

2008-10-21T13:07:00.000-07:00

So, I finally received the protocol and schedule for Round 2 yesterday. Apparently, the meds and regimen will be the same. And that's fine with me. 31 eggs was the collection last time, so that gives me hope that this one will be just as good.

It's made me think about Christmas, though. Last year, just around this time, I started IVF #1. It was successful, meaning I got pregnant in the beginning of December. I think you know how it all turned out. What you may not know was that I miscarried during the New Year’s Eve party that was in full swing at my house. I’ll spare you the gory anatomical details, but I knew what was happening and I remember that we called the doctor. He advised that I put my feet up, which ultimately did nothing for the pregnancy, but got me out of washing some dishes.

In any case, I’m thinking that maybe this year, if we are successful again, I’ll skip the parties, the cooking and baking, the decorating, and all the stuff that I love so much about the Christmas season. I’m one of those people that has an entire section of the basement dedicated to Christmas decorations and I usually start trotting it out a week or so after Thanksgiving. We’re talking more than a dozen totes and boxes filled with all kinds of Christmas chochkey, things that I’ve come to cherish and look forward to unpacking once a year.

I bake somewhere close to a 1000 cookies every year for giving in tins to co-workers, family, friends, and parties (that’s a lot of time on one’s feet, by the way). It’s even crossed my mind to skip the tree this year. We get a fairly big tree to fit in this one corner and it takes a ladder to reach the top. I’m thinking maybe all that up and down on the ladder to string lights and hang baubles might not be a good idea. Do I sound like the green Seuss character yet? Hmmm. Believe me, it will be hard to carry out my plan for a non-Christmasy Christmas, but I think it might be for the best. I can, of course, still write out cards and wrap presents while seated. A wreath on the door won’t kill me, either.

Flattery or Stalking?

2008-10-18T07:33:00.000-07:00

So, insensitive girl calls me at the office yesterday. She said she just arrived home from the hospital with the new baby and wanted to call me up right away!

Uh, what. Why?

So, I had to hear the entire birth story ad nauseam. What could I do? I listened, congratulated her, etc. My favorite part was when she asked how I was doing, but wouldn't give a breath's pause to let me answer. She really didn't want to know - it was a segue into more about her. She talked like an auctioneer on crank and then promptly ended the conversation with, "So, please call me up and come visit. I'll be home until the new year and would love for you to come over my house and see us". I was not able to really commit or decline, so I muttered something vague like, "Ok, sure" and "I'll call you".

Of all the people at work, why me?

Awareness

2008-10-15T12:28:00.001-07:00

Today, October 15, is National Day of Remembrance for Pregancy and Infant Loss.

I remember all too well.

Back Here at Home

2008-10-14T11:28:00.000-07:00

So, Las Vegas was mucho fun. Highlights include our vow renewal at the Graceland Wedding Chapel with the King himself officiating, margaritas, fantastic restaurants, reading for hours by the pool, margaritas, horseback riding in Red Rock Canyon National Park, a Cirque du Soliel show, margaritas, some shopping, margaritas. You get the picture. And all of this was shared with some really amazing friends. I can’t express how much it means to me that H, R, MC and M were there for the vow ceremony. Just wow. We love you all so very much and feel blessed to have such great people in our lives.

The weekend was a blur. We got home early Friday morning and slept a good part of that day away. Saturday, I ventured out the grocery since we had nothing to eat. Strolling down the aisles, leisurely adding items to the cart, I hear a voice over the loudspeaker paging the owner of a black, Pontiac Grand Prix, license plate number…. Gulp. That’s my car! I zoom (no longer leisurely) over to the “Courtesy” Counter to receive the bad news that “there’s been an accident”. You can’t imagine what went through my head: Did I park on a hill and it rolled down over an old lady? Did I leave the keys in the car and some kid took it for a joy ride? Was it hot-wired? Was it backed into and summarily crushed by a Hummer? None of the above.

I wasn’t told anything, but simply led outside to the lot. When I got there, 3 people were standing around the front of my car. One introduced herself as a police officer, on duty, but in plain clothes. The other couple were the owners of a white mini-van parked next to me. The police officer explains that the couple believes I hit their car on the way into my space. Say what? I did not hit their car and if I did, I would have gone into the shop and reported it. Or conversely, if I hit their car and decided not to report it, why would I stay in the spot? Wouldn’t I have moved? They pointed to some white scrapes on the front left panel of my car. I explained that I did this at least 2 years ago whilst backing out of my own garage (yes, MC, I *am* good with spacial relations). They were in doubt. They then pointed to some black scrapes on the back right panel of their mini-van. The officer made me back my car out to compare the heights of the scrapes on the two vehicles. They stood around conferring, shaking their heads. They told me that the scrapes were not there when the pulled into the lot, and that I must be the offending driver that put them there.

OK, this scene was now bordering on the absurd, and I decided that it was time to call my husband. I explained everything in 30 seconds. He seemed not too worried. I hung up with him, and announced to the threesome while shrugging, “Look, my husband’s a lawyer and he’s advised me to deal directly with the police officer only”. You know, I like to be able to stand up for myself and not need the assistance of anyone else in dealing with stuff like this, and thus, I don’t ever resort to tactics that suggest that I could have back-up. I am perfectly capable of handling things on my own. But this was one instance where my answers were not considered at all and the mini-van couple were adamant to get something out of me. It felt good to announce that I had a lawyer on my side. Was I attempting intimidation? You bet.

The mini-van couple got in their car and waited until I was finished speaking with the officer. She explained that this was so small potatoes, that she’d write it up as an “incident” report, not an accident report. Most likely, the repairs to their car would not exceed their deductible, and that I should consider paying for it. Um, what? Maybe if I had hit their car, I would be prepared to pay for it, but why should I pay for something I didn’t do? I am convinced that the shit-fairy just needed to dump on someone and it was my turn. I am now waiting for the officer to complete her report so I can get a faxed copy of it and call my insurance company with this information. *Sighs*.

In other news, work still sucks. I am working under ridiculous timelines for the remainder of the month and even until the end of the calendar year. But, I’m not really complaining. I have a job that pays well and my boss seems to like me somewhat. Oh, insensitive girl at work had her baby this morning, a full month before his due date, and via C-section. I missed her “baby shower” (thank God for vacations) last week, but still bought her a couple of things that I gave her yesterday. She was complaining about cramping and something about the baby has turned to the breech position. I am looking forward to at least 8 weeks of not having to listen to her complaints. Glorious.

Also, it’s Day 3 for me. I went to the RE yesterday for the requisite b/w and u/s. He gave me a Rx for b/c pills. Same protocol as last time, I think. Well, my “case” was to be discussed at the IVF meeting last night, so maybe it could be different this time. I should know by tomorrow afternoon when the whole schedule will be faxed to me. In any case, 2 weeks of the b/c pills is standard so I have a couple more days before the pin cushioning starts.

For the uninitiated:

RE – reproductive endocrinologist
B/w – blood work
U/s – ultrasound
Rx – prescription (you should know that one!)
B/c – birth control

Another Post About Sarah Palin

2008-10-03T12:46:00.000-07:00

(if you are completely, utterly sick of her, skip this)

My right eye will not stop twitching.

It started last night while watching the VP debate. Facts and accuracy be damned! All we really need is a hockey mom who says things like “you betcha”, and “I’m so not a Washington insider” to alleviate our fears. I can just picture the wide swath of middle America sitting in the living room barking at the TV in resounding approval of her weirdly accented “straight talk”, thinking, “she’s just like me!”. Guess what, people? This is NOT the time to be electing someone just like you.

It’s all so bittersweet as a woman, seeing her up there in the spotlight. Of course, I would rather see Hillary up there for the cause of the advancement of women to the highest office in the land... But, in any case, here is a woman running for the second highest position, and she’s a dunce. I certainly don’t agree with her politics, but still, it makes me cringe to see her just so out of her league. That has nothing to do with her sex, but let’s face it, if McCain & Palin lose, the glass ceiling will remain intact and I sincerely hope that doesn’t set back our cause too much.

Speaking of feminists, I agree wholeheartedly that queries about her commitment to family and abilities to be a mother while in office is a line of questioning that just smacks of sexism and misogyny. No matter that some of those doing the questioning are other women, which is sad. I say, skewer her for the right reasons. Get it? Right reasons! That was a play on words, people.

But since when does being a mom qualify you for everything? There are plenty of women I know who are great moms, but it doesn’t make them qualified for every job under the sun. I find Palin’s constant references to motherhood, specifically mothers of children in sports, just really way out there. Sure, I get that it’s all about identification with her, and particularly because she doesn’t have much else in the way of merit badges (note that Hillary never had to play up motherhood; her lifetime in politics is quite enough, thank you very much), but it’s absurd. And the crazy part is that many people find nothing strange about that at all. The mommy movement (and competitive parenting for that matter) is just something I cannot understand, much less identify with. It’s great that one is a parent (mom or dad), but it has no corollary to one’s ability to lead a country.

Anyway, I’m off to Vegas for a week. Warm weather, good food, Elvis!, Red Rock Canyon, and the tackiest stuff on earth. I plan to have a great vacation.

Speaking Up, Guilt, and Risky Defense

2008-10-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

It’s been a rough couple of days. My grandmother has been hospitalized/rehabbed/nursing homed for pneumonia that just won’t quit. It's not so pleasant to visit Gran there, but I do. Sadly, she is losing mental competency faster than the ticking of the national debt clock, but that's a blog for another time. Then, I wasted an entire day on Saturday looking for that perfect dress for our Elvis wedding to no avail. Meanwhile, a phone call to a good friend later that night disclosed that all I really needed to do was make a trip to fancy dress store. Sure as taxes, I drove there and within an hour, I walked out with my little number. Yay for all that wasted time on a perfectly good weekend. The inconvenience is just slightly offset by the knowledge that I am going to look real cute in the new threads next Sunday. But, I digress…

Next, I found out that one of my favorite actors (if not my very favorite) has died. I ask you, was there ever a man in Hollywood sexier than Paul Newman? Ok, ok, so that didn’t cause me too much angst, but still… Monday revealed that I completely spaced a meeting for which I should have prepared. Instead, I dialed into the meeting from my office and BS’d my way through the meeting, speaking about the issues as if I could offer some real insights. Meanwhile, I was looking up the data and information on the web while on the call. I wonder how many of my colleagues could hear right through that little performance.

And then, yesterday, the topper. For some quick background, there’s a woman at work that I am sort of friends with. She’s rather self-absorbed (as if I aren’t, what with this blog and all), particularly now that she’s pregnant with her second child. I thought the first pregnancy was bad, with all the constant chatter. But no, that was only first-child jitters. Pregnancy number 2 has proven to be the real litmus by which this woman has tested the limits of my tolerance and perhaps, my friendship. She routinely barges into my office to announce her morning sickness, complain about her gestational diabetes, lament her swollen ankles, bitch about her husband, all the time rubbing her 3rd trimester belly. Meanwhile, she is perfectly aware of all my fertility issues. For reasons I cannot recall presently, I shared all of it with this person. She was the only one at work in whom I confided. I can’t say that I regret that now, but I am perfectly shocked at how completely insensitive this woman has become. I mean, why complain to me? Go complain to someone else who can relate to being pregnant. I was pregnant for all of 6 weeks. Moreover, she knows that I would give anything to have a child and her complaints are received by me as stinging reminders of what I don’t have.

So, back to yesterday. She barges in and starts right up with how sick if being pregnant she is, she hates all the appointments, hates the new diet, and promptly plops herself in a chair across from my desk. She starts with something I hear from fertiles with kids all the time (oh yeah, it’s a classic - one that makes my witchy blood boil), “Are you sure you really want kids!?”. And before she can complete the sentence, I mustered the courage to finally tell her what I’ve been rehearsing in my head for months now. I summarily told her that I found her choice of words to me insulting, hurtful, insensitive, and completely selfish. I tried to soften it by following up with words and fragments like, “I’m sorry” and “rough weekend” and “I’m tired” and “I’m a little depressed today”.

Almost immediately, I wished I could have taken all of it back. This “friend” began to cry. Full on sobbing right there in my office. Luckily, I had a box of tissues at the ready. A whole litany of things came out of her: worries, fears, financial difficulties, issues with her step-children, etc. And then she apologized to me, but I felt like I should have apologized. I totally made her cry by pointing out some additional shortcoming in her personality that she had not previously known. And that was like the last thing she needed. So there we were, sitting across a desk from each other, she crying and me feeling like the biggest bitch for making her cry. Thinking about it now, I think she was a cry waiting to happen but I pushed her over the edge. How ridiculous that my first crack out of the gate at self-preservation from fertile insensitivities and it backfires on me miserably!

I stayed in my office for the rest of the day, trying hard to avoid her. She came by again later on but saw that I was on a call, so waved and left. Here’s the thing: I felt guilty about the episode yesterday. For weeks and weeks, she had been the object of my contempt, with all of her pregnancy complaining. Sure, there’s a touch of jealousy on my part, but she really does seem pretty ungrateful and it irks me. Today, I am not feeling so guilty about it. Well, a little. It's tempered by the fact that I do feel better about speaking up for once. And if she can’t hang, then she shouldn’t come (uninvited) into my office. Furthermore, women like her need to learn that they are not the center of the universe whilst pregnant. Increasingly, I feel like I am drawing lines in the sand between myself and fertiles. It’s playing defense, for sure, but I wonder if it’s going to come back and bite me.

Favorite Smells (not in order of preference)

2008-09-24T13:26:00.000-07:00

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?

Gray Matter Randoms

2008-09-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

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.

No Sympathy! and Some Things

2008-09-15T12:41:00.000-07:00

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.

A Haiku about My Favorite Hardware Store

2008-09-12T14:49:00.000-07:00

White barn and green door
Inside dog food and work gloves
Flashlights and salt licks

An Open Letter to My Body

2008-09-08T13:35:00.000-07:00

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

Political Hiatus Over

2008-09-04T11:41:00.000-07:00

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?

Political Burn-Out

2008-08-28T13:04:00.000-07:00

Is anyone else sick to death of the presidential race? I know this may seem like poor timing, but I can’t take it anymore. I was always of the opinion that politics is something way too important to ignore and that I would never get bored of reading about it, discussing it, debating it. Well, here I am, completely turned off and tuned out. I am, in fact, a NPR junkie, but on Monday afternoon I yanked out the IV and haven’t looked back. Instead, I’ve selected mindless pop music for my ride to and from work. I stopped reading the commentaries and online journals, and I refuse to watch one minute of the conventions.

Perhaps it’s because I don’t like Obama’s choice of a Veep. I mean, has the country’s collective memory forgotten that the guy is an admitted plagiarist??? Perhaps it’s because we have been inundated with this crap for over a year now, and it feels like the election should have taken place such a long time ago. Perhaps it’s because I really don’t believe that much will change. But really, all the posturing and rhetoric is just 24-hours, non-stop in this day in age, and I can’t stand it.

Don’t get me wrong – I voted for Obama in the NJ primary, and I will not forget to vote come November 4, but for now, I can’t take one more hope speech, or one more Paris Hilton ad or one more lousy comparison of Obama to RFK. My sincerest hope is that the country will elect Obama and that the country will take a shift to the left. Hell, the middle would be nice! But for now, I’m listening to some music.

Summertime Rolls

2008-08-19T17:59:00.000-07:00

... on the Delaware River.

Can't Help Falling In Love With You

2008-08-08T07:56:00.000-07:00

You are cordially invited to witness the wedding vow renewal
of

Chris and Renee Alliegro

Sunday October 5, 2008
6:00 pm
The Graceland Wedding Chapel in Las Vegas, NV

Elvis will be officiating

The Elvis Chapel

Oh yes, we have had our troubles just like everyone else, but we’ve survived much: job changes, job loss, relocations, cancer, depression, infertility, all kinds of setbacks and bickering. This just reaffirms our commitment to each other or contentment to be stuck with one another. Whatever the case, we’ve made it to 5 years, and I’m still in love.

We’ll be out there from October 4th through the 9th, staying at the Flamingo.

Let me know if you’re planning to join us!

Warts

2008-08-05T13:06:00.000-07:00

My hair is too fine.
My eyes are too small for my face.
I don’t look feminine enough.
My feet are too big.
I have not met some goals that I set for myself.
I am fat.
I could make better food choices.
I should exercise more.
I really should call my great aunt.
My ovaries don’t work properly.
The laundry is piling up.
Lulu and Wolvie deserve to go for more walks.
I never have enough time to read.
My teeth could be whiter.
I should shampoo the rugs.
I could be more proactive at work.
I could be kinder to my crazy friend.
Patience is not my best virtue.
I should stop biting my cuticles.

the party's (not) over...

2008-07-25T08:13:00.000-07:00

ok, so i'm all set for the 80's bash at h's this weekend.

cheesy airbrushed t-shirt from seaside boardwalk - check
denim mini skirt - check
black rubber bracelets - check
giant blue hoop earrings - check
electric blue eye makeup - check
lace hair ribbon and can of hairspray for maximum jersey big hair - check

i'm looking forward to going backward, even though high school in the 80s' was like the least favorite time period of my life thus far. bring on the neon colors, asymetrical harido's, docksiders, preppy collars, shoulder pads, pac-man, labyrinth, ketchup-is-a-vegetable, and rubik's cube. bring on the feathered hair, gag me with a spoon, back to the future, duran duran, E.T, culture club, the A Team, giorgio perfume, legwarmers, and white keds sneakers.

now, if i could only get this awful journey song out of my head...

Warning: This May Raise Your Blood Pressure

2008-07-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

check out these neat little clocks. sure to raise your BP, or put you in a fouler mood if you're already in one...
http://www.drugsense.org/wodclock.htm

and of course, more money well spent. plug in the community trade off and you'll be in for a treat.
http://www.nationalpriorities.org/costofwar_home

Space Junkie

2008-07-21T09:23:00.000-07:00

I am utterly fascinated by space debris. Which might seem strange to some since outer space itself is fairly fascinating, so why be hung up on debris in space? I can’t really answer that with any satisfactory response, so we’ll leave it at that. But specifically, I am interested in human space debris, meaning the debris left out there by man-made satellites and such. Cosmic space debris, such as gaseous bands, stardust, asteroids, etc. is another thing altogether and out of scope for this mind dump. In any case, I heard a brief report on this the other day on NPR and although it was rather rudimentary (I have not spent a lot of time reading about this but it’s the kind of topic that can become dangerously interesting to me, i.e., spending hours in the office browsing crackpot websites instead of reviewing batch records or doing things I’m paid for), I have been thinking about this for days.

For those of you unacquainted with man-made space debris, a.k.a. orbital debris, satellite debris, or space junk, it’s a term used to describe anything left behind by an object placed in space by man. Think of rocket fragments, satellite camera pieces, nuts and bolts that have come unloosed, paint chips, floating MRE packages. Call me silly, but I find it crazy that we have launched giant objects into space and then left them there to float around ad infinitum. Or, in some cases, blown them up. To be sure, most space debris is the result of strategic destructive hits from either the Chinese or Russian governments or the Pentagon, which has assured us that space debris poses no threat to earth. Not entirely true if you look at some of the amateur websites on the subject. Like this one: Paul Maley's Space Page.

There are several interesting ideas about cleaning up the debris including measures to round up all the space debris and then laser it back to it’s atomic state, sweeping it all back to earth’s atmosphere so that it falls out of orbit, sending up a giant sticky blob to attract random pieces of debris. I’m not making this up. There are learned people at NASA right now working on the refinement of said schemes. And most likely, they make 4x your salary.

There is, in fact, a whole office at NASA dedicated to monitoring space debris, as the debris could potentially collide with other exploratory objects we put in space or the International Space Station (yikes). It’s called the Orbital Debris Program Office but word on the launch pad is that their funding is not certain from fiscal year to fiscal year. In any case, you might find it fascinating to know that NASA keeps track of every piece of space debris since the early 1960’s and the latest estimate is that man-made debris pieces number close to 10, 000. I found a report from a couple of years ago that is amazingly detailed. Look here.

So, what is the current plan for space debris? I think NASA is focusing on preventing future debris but they are also advocating a cleanup, citing the threat of collisions. Apparently, none of the suggestions for cleanup are technically or economically feasible at this time. Well, gee whiz. Who would have guessed? In the meantime, I’ll keep watching for the latest developments on this topic and keep my eyes peeled for space junk falling toward my backyard.

Plan B

2008-07-20T18:33:00.000-07:00

Summer always makes me tired of working. As in, I would rather float all day in the pool or spend my days at the library or go to a museum or hike a new trail. Or whatever. Anything but work. And work always makes me think of my Plan B (no, not the contraceptive pill), but my own personal Plan B. Which is that I would like to transition out of my career at Big Evil Pharma #2 and teach chemistry and/or physics to high schoolers.

I know, I know... it's a whole different world and it would mean big changes for me in many ways. I am quite sure that I will have to go back for some required courses in education, and I think I can even do it at night. Just thinking about that now makes me want to puke, since it's taken me 2+ years to finish my Master's thesis, and I swore up and down that I'm finished with taking classes.

But from what I gather, I don't think I would have a real problem finding a position in a high school, and I think it would be a heckuva lot more rewarding for me. For those of you who know me, aren't I great at explaining chemistry (wink, wink, poke, poke)??? I think I would be good. And the idea of reaching even just one student and tapping into the part of her brain that thinks, "I love this crazy stuff! I must be a scientist" is like so incredibly neat! Well, who knows... In any case, I will keep it safe as my Plan B for now.

AHHH!!! It's the Blob! No, wait, it's the BLOG!

2008-07-16T14:52:00.000-07:00

the blog is back. and why not? it's been far too long that i'm a slave to the keyboard for the man.