burnt toast life

oh, what a year it’s been

What started out as a Christmas recap/Molly’s 6-month update post has now been hastily turned into a year end recap, or life right now recap, because I just haven’t had the time to streamline my disjointed thoughts into coherent sentences. The funny part is that now that I have a job where I could conceivably blog on lunch breaks or when I come in super early every day (because every website in the world isn’t blocked like it was at my last job), I’m usually too busy with actual WORK to spend any time blogging. Plus, I’ve been really good about going to the gym during lunch, even in the hard-to-stay-motivated month of December. So… yay for me and my jiggly thighs, boo for my blog. I’m sorry.

I’m sure I don’t have to spell out for anyone, especially all you faithful blog readers, that 2014 has really been the best year EVER. I mean… duh. Not only did my dream of becoming a mommy finally come true, but also I scored a job at the company I’ve been targeting for years, and so far, everything is just as good as I thought it would be (and yes, I am talking to my coworkers more, and you were all right, I was just being impatient about making new friends).

Christmas was so awesome. I took off on Christmas Eve and the company gave everyone off on the 25th (obviously) and the 26th (yay!), which meant that I got to spend 5 entire days with my sweet girl and my dear husband. Despite a 24-hour bout of sickness that I thought was the flu but probably wasn’t actually the flu, it was pure bliss.

But also kind of sad. Because the more time I spent with Molly, the more I got to know her… I mean, really know her on that day-to-day basis that I don’t usually get to see. And as much as I enjoy working, especially at my new job, it was a little depressing, you know? I had 8 weeks off with her when she was first born, but that’s when she was all newborn-y and hadn’t developed a personality yet. During the five days of Christmas break, I got to know her on a deeper level and to really enjoy her company, rather than just try to cram as much as possible into that one hour window before bedtime or our whirlwind weekends of errand running and other events. So yeah, it was great, but it also made me feel wistful…and thankful that I basically have the same thing this week (working from home today, then off until Monday). So talk to me on January 5th and I’m sure I’ll be even more sad/wistful than I am now.

But for now, I’m just looking forward to another nice break, and more time hanging out with our little family. Especially since we’re spending New Year’s Eve at home for the first time in a long time.

Here are a few highlights from last week:

-Molly LOVES being around people and commotion, and proved this by staying up a full 3 hours past her bedtime on Christmas Eve. She didn’t waver – not even as the clock crept toward 10pm. My little trooper! We got a late start to Christmas Eve dinner (par for the course with my family), and didn’t get to present opening until way late. Luckily, we always go in age order youngest to oldest when opening gifts, so Molly was first. Wouldn’t you know – she did a great job tearing that paper! She got a bunch of toys, which she desperately needed, and then promptly fell asleep once her turn was done. I figured she’d sleep soundly through the night after all that, but OH NO, that girl was up every hour from about 1am to 5am. One of those times I was so exhausted that I didn’t even wake up to her crying, and Eric was the one to go fetch her, try unsuccessfully to comfort her, and then bring her to me (literally, the first time that’s ever happened). Eeesh. She was up for the day by 6am and ready to open her Santa presents. I think she likes getting gifts…

Christmas Eve and so many presents!

Christmas Eve and so many presents!

gift opening pro

gift opening pro

-Our big girl turned 6 months old on the 23rd. Every month I think to myself, “No, this is the best age!” and I keep wondering when that’s going to end (hopefully never?). She can sit up pretty solidly, though we usually do put a pillow behind her just in case, and have had a few unfortunate head-bumping incidents. I’m definitely not saying this to brag, but I’m super impressed with her fine motor skills. Her Nana bought her one of those old school wooden block toys where you fit the shapes into the holes of the cube (I hope that explanation makes sense), and it’s for ages 2 and up, but we figured hey, why not let her just bang the wooden shapes around. Not only does she insist on trying to put the shapes in (and understand that that’s the point of it)… she can almost do it! I seriously sat there recording her attempts for 10 minutes, but so far she hasn’t actually done it. Oh, well. She’s very good at focusing on tasks and I have no doubt she’ll have those blocks dominated in no time.

6 months!

6 months!

so close...

so close…

-Here’s another fun new thing Molly started doing: giving kisses. If you’re ever feeling down, just take a little drive over to PA and I promise, these kisses will put a gigantic smile on your face. She gets this very intense look, grabs your face on both side with her two hands, and with an open, drool-y mouth, pulls your cheek (or your mouth, or nose, or whatever) to her mouth for a few seconds and releases. Then she always has a satisfied little grin when she’s done! I almost don’t want her to learn how to kiss correctly because the way she does it now is just TOO MUCH.

Well friends, it’s time for me to bid farewell to the amazing-ness of 2014. There’s so many things to look forward to in 2015. I find myself doing that a lot lately – looking forward to things. I’m not so obsessed about that one thing (MUST HAVE BABY), so finally I’m able to think about other things, which is nice. I didn’t bother with resolutions. I just hope to continue being grateful for all the blessings I’ve already been given.

May your year be filled with happiness! Love you all.

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any questions?

Here’s something that’s been bugging me for years – why do people say, “Oh, from behind you couldn’t even tell she was pregnant!”

Who looks pregnant from behind?

I get it. These people are talking about ladies of a small build who have huge baby bumps that are shocking to behold. I have a friend like that – she’s super thin, and while pregnant it looked rather dramatic, like she swallowed a watermelon seed and somehow it sprouted inside her. But come on. Even larger women don’t look PREGNANT from behind – a little fat, maybe, but not pregnant. I’ve never looked at the back of someone and said, “Oh yes, she must be pregnant.”

It drives me crazy. Maybe it’s because I gained back all the weight I lost from going gluten-free (an all-sweets diet does have that effect), and not just in the belly, but in the hips and thighs. Maybe I’m bitter. But you know what’s really cool? I can wear any shirt I want and it all looks good now. Like before I had a pile of shirts that accentuated my stomach fat, so I put those aside for when I got back to my “thin days.” Not anymore! Now, it’s the tighter the better, and all those spandex-y shirts that made me cry hot tears into my bowl of ice cream are back out in their full glory. It’s GOOD for me to have a big fat belly. And even when I gain some weight in my thighs, my stomach is so big by comparison that it doesn’t look as bad. So far, besides the baby itself, this is the best thing about being pregnant.

At my last OB/GYN appointment, the doctor kept asking if I had any questions or concerns. She seemed disappointed that I didn’t, to the point that I found myself racking my brain for something – ANYTHING – to ask about. But the truth is, I got nothin’ (besides the whole ‘pregnant from behind’ thing).

I thought by now I would have devoured What to Expect and would be endlessly poring over nursery idea boards on Pinterest. I’m not. I’m just kind of stuck in the middle, and trying to figure out if my lack of intensity (not enthusiasm, mind you, because I sure as hell am excited) is because I don’t believe it’s actually happening, or if it’s because everything still seems a long way off.

Look, I’m a procrastinator. I work well under pressure. I sincerely doubt that we’ll have the baby’s room done in a timely fashion…I’m picturing nailing up artwork and frantically painting the trim in between contractions. That’s just how we roll. Right now I’m at a weird in-between stage and it seems to be going soooo slowly. Because something weird happened after I spent all that time waiting to get pregnant… now I don’t want to be pregnant anymore. I just want to meet my baby. Maybe I’m destined to always be impatient about something. Last night we were at Eric’s sisters house, the one who is now a week past her due date and eagerly anticipating baby’s arrival. I was super jealous that she gets to meet her baby – this week! I know I need to chill out and just appreciate this time (hey, I slept in super late today and have been a lazy bump on a log for most of it), and of course appreciate being pregnant. And I do. But the more real this baby becomes, the more I want to see him/her.

Realistically, it wouldn’t make sense to start on the baby’s room anyway because we still don’t know if we’re going pink or blue (theoretically). Only a little over a month until we find out. Insanity. Eric is team blue, and yeah, I am totally team pink. Of course I say, “as long as it’s healthy…” but I mean, no duh. I think anyone who has been following along can figure out by now that I’ll take a boy, a girl, an alien, whatever. I just want something. But deep down, I always pictured having a girl first.

I’ve been thinking long and hard about why it’s so important for me to have a girl, and what I came up with is that if I was ONLY able to have one child, I would definitely want a daughter. But I think we will have more than one. We still have three embabies on ice and I’m slowly becoming more confident in my body’s ability to sustain life. So a girl, eventually, would be all right. At the church Christmas service I tried to pay special attention to the message that God sent his only SON to save the world. Then there was a pageant of first graders acting out the nativity story and the wee lad who they had cast as the little drummer boy literally brought tears to my eyes. He was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. A boy would be good. I’m happy; I’m happy either way.

Alert: abrupt topic change! So I’ve been wondering – any bloggers out there have this problem? I’m out and proud and lots of my real life friends and family read this blog. That’s cool. But sometimes I have issues that I simply can’t discuss because I’m not anonymous. Like right now this HUGE thing is going on that I would love to vent, bitch, and moan about, but I can’t because of certain people who read this blog. It sucks! Sometimes I yearn for anonymity. It’s not even that you guys would be able to help with my problem, it’s more that I get so many warm fuzzies from your commiseration that it would really help me out just to have that. I’m sorry for cryptic blog posting, that’s really mean of me. 98% of you can probably know my issue, so if you’re dying of curiosity, shoot me an email and I’ll tell you. It’s not even that interesting, it’s just annoying, and is one of the (few) things going on right now. It feels weird that I can’t blog about it. I’m an open book about boobs and vaginas, but when it comes to personal matters, some things must remain secret.

Related to that, I’ve been thinking a lot about my last post and I’m hoping I didn’t come off sounding like a total bitch. As I said, a lot of the ‘mommy club’ friends read my blog and there I was whining about not being part of their club. Well, the mommies I know are nothing but accepting and understanding, and while I still maintain that I’ll never really be part of the club, that’s not for lack of their trying. I’m the one who feels awkward and inferior, but not because they try to make me feel that way. Just the opposite, in fact. A few have even said things like, “I have no idea what you’re going through, but I want you to know I’m here for you.” Yeah, there’s nothing better than hearing that. So to my mommy friends, I’m really sorry if I sounded ungrateful for your friendship. You’ve all been amazing at making me feel loved, and asking all the right questions. Sometimes I write without thinking, or think I sound a certain way when really I sound like a huge ungrateful jerk. Again, I’m sorry.

I suppose I should do a little bit of year-end recapping. A year ago yesterday I started my Lupron injections. I showed up to a New Year’s Eve party late because I had to swing by my mother-in-law’s to get the shot (the first of how many – hundreds?). I remember that day so well – taking the bus into the city, rushing uptown to the pharmacy to fill the script before it closed, hurrying in to the party and breathlessly explaining what was going on. At the time it felt like things were happening so quickly. How could I possibly know what 2013 had in store for me? So many ups and downs, so many periods of time that dragged and so many that flew by. I can’t help but believe that this year will be so much better, and that when 2014 comes to a close, I’ll be holding my daughter or son and marveling at how it all happened.

Wishing you all a joyous, drama-free new year that’s filled with love and happiness (and babies to everyone who wants them). Yeah, it’s cliche, but I mean it. We all deserve it.

A very dramatic New Year’s Eve

I bet you thought this would involve drinking, didn’t you? Well, it doesn’t. At least, that wasn’t the dramatic part.

I had my second appointment in the city on NYE. Yup, I traveled to Manhattan on New Year’s Eve. Totally sane. Anyway, I took the 7 a.m. bus and somehow made it to the NHF office (a bus ride and a subway ride) in an hour and 40 minutes. That is unprecedented. Smug and satisfied, I strolled in 20 minutes early for my appointment and made plans for a leisurely brunch with a friend. I felt breezy.

In the back of my mind there was a slight problem – blood test results. We needed them to be officially accepted into the trial and to get all of my fun prescriptions  (You know – injections and stuff). Eric got his results immediately, but since I had to have genetic testing the results took longer. For some reason I was convinced that while I sat in the French cafe with my croissant and coffee, the results would magically appear in my email inbox. Because life always works like that, right? Of course, the results did not come. I called Quest and was told that some results were back, but for some reason my PCP was not authorized to get partial results. Great.

I went back to NHF and broke the bad news. They said that if one particular test was holding up the works, they could still get stuff done that day. I gave them all the info and let them deal with Quest.

Now comes the fun part. Have you ever waited for a fax that someone said was coming? Have you ever stared down a fax machine, willing it to spit out that life or death piece of paper? I have. My car got towed in Philly many, many years ago. I was totally that girl that you see on Parking Wars, fighting with Allstate and fighting with PPA and waiting in the filthy, noisy waiting room for seven straight hours for a mystical proof of insurance document. If that show had been around back then, I would have been on it.

This “waiting for fax” episode was not quite as dramatic because someone else did all the phone fighting for me. I simply sat in the waiting room. And sat some more. I read an entire book. (Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me by Mindy Kaling. Highly recommend; laugh out loud funny). I changed seats. I watched people come and go, nurses wish each other a Happy New Year and leave, and receptionists switch off lights and head out. By the time they finally summoned me back to the office it was just me, a dark waiting room, and a young Asian child sleeping on a nearby sofa.

I’m not sure where the study coordinators are from, I’m so bad with that. I want to say they’re Russian? Ukranian? Something like that. They have thick accents and don’t understand some of my sarcasm (more’s the pity). Anyway, coordinator Matt said they finally, FINALLY got the fax after many threatening phone calls placed on my behalf. Thinking about his colleague,  a sweet and soft spoken woman whose name escapes me, on the phone battling with Quest Diagnostics for hours in broken English just to get MY blood test results gave me an instant surge of gratitude.

I drew my envelope. Matt made a big deal about this part but I don’t know, by this point I was tired and anxious and just wanted to get home to celebrate New Year’s. Plus I don’t even know if I wanted Conventional or Mini IVF; there are pros and cons to both. We got placed into Conventional.

Conventional IVF means daily injections. Matt demonstrated how to do these on a small rubberized button meant to resemble my stomach fat roll while I tried not to look visibly ill. He also said that since we are Conventional, the injections had to start that day. As in, within a few hours. He gave me directions to a pharmacy a few stops Uptown that he knew would carry the drugs and sent me off.

I should probably mention at this point that my phone was dying. I think by the time I left NHF I had 6% battery life. I also had no idea what time I could catch a bus out of Port Authority and my mom had borrowed my car, so I needed to be able to communicate with someone to pick me up. Stress levels began to escalate.

I made it to the pharmacy pretty easily. I confirmed with them that I could use an HSA card over the phone to pay for this $200 prescription. I also warned Eric that I would be calling to get the number. I called him from the pharmacy’s phone – twice – no answer. Desperate, I called him from my cell phone, thinking he wasn’t answering because he didn’t recognize the number.

Conversation:
“WHAT! What do you WANT! I’m in the shower!!”
“Hi I’m at the pharmacy I need the number now please give me the number now I have to talk fast phone is dying hurry please.”
“Oh MY GOD I am DRIPPING WET! FINE!”

I could type out even more of this story but this post is getting ridiculously long and I’m not close to finished here. Basically the card wouldn’t go through, a line formed behind me, I broke out in a rash and started sweating profusely, called Eric back at least three more times, got yelled at again, and I think our final communication was him screaming “JUST LEAVE. ABANDON ALL HOPE AND FUCKING LEAVE!” as I hung up the phone and whipped out a different credit card. If you were behind me in line, you would have hated me. I hated me.

I raced back to the subway, practically jumping over an old woman who had collapsed in the street. Sorry, didn’t have time for that shit (a large group of people was helping her, don’t worry. I’m not a monster). Somehow I made it to Port Authority in time for a bus going to William Penn. Phone life was at 2%. I called my dad and said, “Shut up don’t talk be at bus stop at 6:50 with my car phone dead k love you bye.” And with that – my phone died.

You think it ends there? Nope. I still had an injection to do, remember? Eric and I had already decided that neither of us were up for the task and we would get his mother, a (***now retired!) nurse to administer the injections. I knew she was going out for New Year’s Eve but had no way to warn her I was coming over with this urgent matter. Once I got in the car and charged my phone enough to turn it on, I called her, right as she was walking out the door. She was kind enough to wait for me to race over so she could stick me before heading off to her party.

After that we made it to our party 2 hours late, which I figure is fashionable. 2013 arrived. It better have a baby in it, and he/she better be pretty effing adorable.