Thursday, November 27, 2008


What a great couple of days. My in-laws and sister- and brother-in-law came in on Tuesday night. Wednesday evening, my parents and brother showed up. This afternoon, my grandparents and aunt came in for Thanksgiving dinner. We had 4 generations at the table. So cool. And a great couple of days. I'm totally wiped out, totally stuffed, and totally thankful. :)

Plus, and I'm elated about this, I think I ovulated all on my own. I'm not totally sure about this, but certain bodily signs showed up that have never shown up without ovulation occurring. :-D So, I'm going in to get some blood work done on Monday or Tuesday to see if I'm right. I'm ridiculously optimistic. And our "timing" was quite good... if I'm right. *grin*

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Hiatus shmiatus

Not a hiatus. Just a lack of anything to say. The week has been pretty boring. The kids were here, they were pretty good, no major squabbles or headaches. I worked a bit. Worked on Christmas present quilts a bit. Read a bit of my Dracula book. Started cleaning the house. You know. Exciting week. I do have a couple things to say...

Dear sir at table 83,
It is not... how you say?... couth to eat a 14 oz strip steak with your hands. It is not corn on the cob. It is not a boneless buffalo wing. It is steak. Do not gnaw into it. Cut it up into bits. And please please please dear God do not dip it into ketchup before you do so. On second thought, never mind. Scratch all that. You brightened the evening of many a server. Do that every time you come in. :)

Dear party of 5 at table 101,
I should apologize to you. As a server, I base a great deal of my interactions with my tables on how they respond to me in the first 30 seconds. I'm right 90% of the time. People who do not look up from their menus, do not respond to my greeting and stare at me blankly when I ask them if they'd like drinks do not typically turn out to be as friendly, outgoing and enjoyable as you did. Plus, every last one of you was overweight and had bad teeth. My initial judgment of you was both inaccurate and unjust. I hope you didn't realize what I initially thought of you. I don't think you did. But either way, please do accept my apologies. I'd very much like to see you at my table again.
PS. Ma'am, I know having your 18 year old son sign up for the service doesn't thrill you. I'd like to thank you ahead of time for the sacrifice you are about to make when you send him off to war. I don't agree with these wars in particular, but I do deeply appreciate those who will stand up and love their country anyway.


I've also been doing some thinking and I think I'm starting to unravel my emotions around this whole TTC thing. I've really been struggling. C.S. Lewis once said in A Grief Observed, "no one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." I think the same holds true the other way around. Fear feels a lot like grief. I'm not grieving. I can be patient and wait for good things. I've not lost anything. But the weight in my chest that seems so much like grief is more in the vicinity of fear I think. Because what is fear but the anticipation of grief? Watching a wave rise up before you would not frighten you if it could not harm you.

I know that the doctors are not concerned yet, and rationally, I'm not either. But I feel it. I don't know that I will be able to have a baby. I don't know that it's just a matter of time. I hope so. I still believe so. But the "certainty" that a young woman starts out her life with is just not there any more.

Part of my fear is not just of not being able to have a baby, but how I would cope with that. I see now the force of will that's required to not foster vices while I stew in my own impatience. It takes a great deal of fortitude to be kind, good, patient and loving when your circumstances are not what you want them to be. Honestly, I'm becoming better in many ways, but not really all ways. I'm still impatient as all hell. And my circumstances really aren't that bad now! In fact, they're downright idyllic with the one exception. (Side note, how did my sister in law do it?)

So anyhow. I'm afraid. And impatient. But wouldn't patience be easier if we could see the end?

I've been debating talking to my priest about this. Two things I would ask for: first, that I would have patience and stop fussing about this, and second, that I might have a baby. I'm still not sure what we're really allowed to pray for. I think it's good to pray for help in the area of virtue, but to ask for things is not something I'm settled on. We should not try to lead Almighty God around by the nose. He is not a God of burnt offerings, sacrifices and deals. Priests are not magicians. Sacraments are not sorcery. So all we can do is ask, I suppose.


In other news, our oven finally arrived. We bought a new oven at the beginning of September. It showed up 2 weeks later with a fatal flaw. When the oven was on, it blew out the back two burners of the range. The replacement they brought in several weeks later did the same thing. General design flaw. So, we decided to go with a totally new make and model. It arrived on Friday. And it works! We can now bake and use all 4 burners at the same time! Yay!!!

The fun came when it was being installed on Friday. Apparently, there was a piece of cardboard packed up under the heating element of the oven. Without knowing this, my husband decided to fire it up and make sure it worked before the installation guys left. You can see where this is going. My stepson comes into the room where I'm working and says, "Um, why is there smoke pouring out of the oven?"

Everything did turn out OK.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008


Finally talked to the doc. She's not sure what happened either, but she knows of cases just like this one where the woman ended up pregnant. I don't think I am, but with that chance out there, I'm not going on the Clomid this month. I'm not having a happy day about it.


By the time Saturday rolled around, I was starting to resign myself to another 5 week wait. I was still rather unhappy about it, but I was starting that process of gathering hope, gathering courage, gathering patience, being thankful for what I have, etc. On Sunday, it only stung a little to walk past the baby section in Target. Closer to the normal level, not the anvil-on-the-chest level it gets to be for a day or so. This morning, with still no sign of RM re-emergence, I got another negative test.

I think that God can bring good out of anything. I've seen it. I don't, however, believe that everything that happens happens for a "reason". I mean, it happens for a reason. It's not out of the blue. The body is a delicate machine and it doesn't take much to throw it off. Poor diet makes you fat or thin, stress is bad for your heart, chemicals get out of balance and all sorts of things follow. But I don't necessarily think that it's correct to think that God hands out cancer, near-sightedness, infertility, bad skin, mental issues or any other such thing specifically and for a purpose. Hence, nothing here to understand.

I wish there was a cosmic reason to point to. "Aha! That's why." Belief in the Fates is tempting sometimes. Turn the universe into a vending machine, kiss up to the good guys, stay out of the way of the bad guys, and all will go well. But there's not. There may be a cosmic benefit, and probably really a whole package of benefits, to be achieved from learning patience, peace, joy, courage, love, hope, etc, even in a valley. But I don't think the benefits should be confused with the cause.

So. I'm struggling today. Hope was rekindled, because bleeding of the kind I experienced and the little spotting that showed up last night is suspicious. And it just may be too soon for a test to pick up the hormone levels. That little candle of hope that was relit is almost harder to deal with than the finality of Friday. But swirling through my head are wonderings. Why else would it stop like that? Did I experience a very early miscarriage? But I don't know how those work. And if I can't go on the Clomid today (because the potential harm of taking Clomid while pregnant makes me highly disinclined to "chance it"), I don't get to go on it at all this month. And then how long til the next cycle starts? My body is not good at running this process on its own. If the past is any indication, I'll be taking another pregnancy test in 5 weeks, getting another negative, then going on the Progesterone, and that can take anywhere from 4-14 days to jump start anything. The length of the wait makes me feel like I'm choking.

I'm trying to find a still, silent place in my mind to put all this so that I can get on with the work I'm supposed to do today. I'm trying to be patient. All will be most well. This day is just a little harder to get through than others.

I should probably delete this whole post. But I'm not going to. Someday I will read it again and think, "Worth it."

Monday, November 17, 2008


Well, it stopped. Yes. Stopped. The Red Menace appeared, as you know, early Friday morning amidst much moaning and gnashing of teeth. Totally normal, not light-and-pink (or any such implantation-esque thing), severe crampage, the whole deal. Early Saturday afternoon, it stops. Cold. End. Has not been seen since.

Played telephone tag with the doc this afternoon and was told NOT to start taking the Clomid until we're sure I'm not pregnant. I tested last night, thinking the same thing, to no avail. I'm going to get to see another negative result tomorrow morning.

*forehead on desk*

And the forehead is not just on the desk because I'm exasperated with my physiology. I am beyond exhausted. Headache, verge of nausea (though not "nauseous"), slightly dizzy, totally unable to concentrate, pity my poor husband who must think I don't love him because I haven't heard a word he's said all day til he's repeated it thrice, exhausted. Something seems to be... amiss.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Two things

First, I am wiped out. I don't think I slept well last night. I slept for 10 hours, so most may call me a sissy. Call me what you like. I was pooped all day. And. Like I said. I don't think I slept well. I had three very emotionally vivid dreams. Hard to explain. But I think I put a lot of energy into creating them. They stuck with me all day. I did figure out, I think, why a certain figure keeps turning up in my dreams at times like this. And no, for those who know me that read this, I'm certain you're not guessing the right person.

Second. A letter.

Dear party of 2 at table 70 at 4:45 all the way up through party of 4 at 71 at 10:15. All a y'all. Listen up.

I know the economy is... unpleasant. I live in it too. I know that most things at least feel more expensive. I have to buy them too. If you want to come out and eat when things are tight, by all means. But do not think that you can order all the things you usually order, drinks, appetizers, full entrees, coffee and dessert if you cannot afford all of that and a tip. "Thanks, you did a great job!" Does not pay my bills. It's called a kiss-off. A religious tract does not put food on my table. Jesus loves me, but he doesn't regularly chip in to heat my house. He does that through you.

The bottom line: Your server is not your coupon. If you can afford 20% less than usual, that comes off the whole kit and kaboodle. Not just my ability to feed my family.

I'm not going to treat you differently after tonight. I'm not going to go to work with a sour attitude tomorrow. I'm not going to spit in your food or sabotage your evening. That's not what I'm about. I am going to do the same damn knock-up job I've been doing for the last 12 years and I know things will turn around. You've got to take the good with the bad in my job, and it all does come out in the wash. But please. Think.

And now, where is that pillow?

Friday, November 14, 2008



Hey xbox, maybe you and ET have been going about this all backwards... maybe you should try to impregnate yourself. Anyone want to wig out with me?

Of all the times to be right

It's official. We've officially tried to get pregnant in every month of the year now. Time to give Nov/Dec a second shot. Hey, maybe I'll get a hell of a Christmas present.

I'm trying to remind myself that someday I'll look back on this day, and other days like it, these "day the heart is breaking" days, and see it was so worth it. I'm trying to remind myself that this is one of the rainy days that someday, I'd be willing to walk right back through all over again. Because it was worth it. (Yes, I'm pulling from that song again, "Here" by Rascal Flatts). I'm dropping another heartache in the Offering Plate. I'm trying.

Am I being petulant? Impatient? Demanding? Should I just cool it and be calm and stop fussing? Am I blowing this out of proportion? I mean, yes, there are far worse things that could be happening.

I just feel like my children already exist somehow. That they're out there somewhere and I just want to see their faces. I do not want to wait another 5 weeks to hope again.

Well, enough of this. Here was my, "not pregnant, tears on the pillow" post. There is a roast to make, and a house to clean, and laundry to fold and work to be done. Maybe I'll start the day off with a Mimosa.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Round of applause

And a round of applause goes out to the man. He is THE man. I had a very difficult day with my stepdaughter today. No need to get into it, but I was very frustrated by the time he got home. He listened so well, only had to dodge the flare-ups from a few of my misunderstandings of what he was saying, and handled the whole situation beautifully. What a guy, what a guy.

Pretty sure my suspicions are about to be confirmed on the not-pregnant-again front. There's a big part of my internal self throwing itself against the inevitable, squealing, "No no no no no no no no." Crossing my legs and standing on my head will not help. It is coming. And there's nothing, right now, that is going to make it better.

The mind-body connection is weird, isn't it? Why is it that when we love something, we want to put our mouths on it? We say babies are cute enough to eat, for example. We kiss our lovers. We blow kisses at friends. Why is that when we're sad, fluid comes out our eyes? I mean, why not our ears? Belly buttons? Why is it that grief lives in the throat, dread in the stomach, and fear along our spines? And what is the name of that ache in the chest?

I have other "why" questions brimming in the back of my mind. None of them are quite so interesting as the "when" questions.

Vampire bite?

I've been inspecting my neck for tiny holes. I haven't found any, but I'm sure they're there. Evidence? I am totally drained of all energy and feel just a little bit "undead". Sick, eh? It's got to be blood-related somehow. Hopefully it's the production of more blood that's ensuing, and not the imminent release of unused blood. All I know is that I am a 4-year old's teethbrushing away from a nap of my own. *sigh* *smile*


Tuesday, November 11, 2008

More letters to tables

Dear Party of 4, Table 85,
Yes, I remember you. And I know you remember me. Good thing you weren't sat at my table. Because I would pass you off. Good luck with all those breadsticks. Your cholesterol level will not be as forgiving as I am trying to be. And that's saying something. You are one of my challenges.

Dear Table 81,
OK, look. I know you're not my table, but really. When you walk through the doors and sit down at a table in our restaurant, you are entering into a business agreement not only with the establishment, but with your server. You, in a sense, hire her. You do not buy her. Say "please". Say "thank you". Do not be mean to my friends. That's all.

Dear Party of 1, Table 61,
I remember you, too. But I am very very glad to see you. You are such a sweet (older) gentleman. You are kind, you are gentle, and you like my smile. I can tell because you say nice things to see it, and you brighten up a bit, which makes me brighten up a bit, and so it goes like a smile ping-pong game. And I like that. I know you're not a creep because the creeps don't care if you smile. I remember your name from your credit card, and I will greet you with it next time. And we will smile. :) haha


In other news, today is CD32. Don't get excited. We've got at least another 4 days to go til the Red Menace is even expected, let alone late. I can feel the heartache coming already. It's warm in my palm, smooth and heavy, and the day is rushing up when I will place it, along with all the others, in the Offering Box. I know someday all those heartaches will come back as richness, and well worth the treasure borne. But for now... they still await redemption.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Letters to tables

Dear table 81,
There's no need to be snippy with my friend. She offered you wine. It's her job. For you to respond, "Ma'am, we are Christians. Please do not set that bottle on our table!" makes me want to say, "Sir, so is she! And I don't recall Christ ever saying, 'Feel free to be nasty to those who offend you.' I'm pretty sure He said to love your neighbors. And I'm pretty sure that the whole Cana incident was properly recorded. They didn't drink unfermented grape juice at the time." Really, the devil is not in the bottle.

Dear table 72,
You were the delight of my evening. You looked at each other the way my husband and I look at each other. My mind went in fast forward and I hope that in 40 years we still can read each other's minds, want to, and find joy in it. Your love for each other flowed over into kindness for me. Thanks for the reminder.

Dear party of 8 at table 70,
Your kids were utter terrors and they were big enough not to be. There's no need for a 5 year old to toss his spaghetti on the floor and then grind it into the carpeting of two sections by racing back and forth between them. I was amused, sir, when you gently caught your son by the face. I wouldn't have previously thought you could do such a thing... gently. Thank you, though, for the large tip. Many people don't realize that your waitress is perfectly willing to clean up the post-Armageddon-like mess your kids leave, but really resent doing it for free.

Dear table 60,
If you don't want a waitress, go to a fast food joint. I have to ask you questions. There's no other way for me to know what you want to drink, what you want to eat, and if you need more of anything. You are the type of people that make me want to be the kind of mother who raises children to raise their eyes off the table, answer in complete sentences, and be at minimum basically polite, if not friendly.


I am a waitress. Server. Word-de-jour, whatever. I bring food to people as quickly, efficiently, and pleasantly as I can. I enjoy my job and I'm pretty good at at I think. I should be. I've been doing it for almost 12 years now. Child labor laws, my apron strings. I started when I was 14. :) I have learned a lot doing that job. I've learned that adults are a lot like children. When they're hungry, they're crabby. Sometimes, a breadstick can turn a whole day around. I've learned to forgive people who are demeaning, mean, rude, haughty, or just plain thoughtless and serve them nonetheless. Surely there are life lessons here, eh? Nevertheless, there are a lot of things I'd like to say to people. I'm going to start saying them here.


I go to a Greek Orthodox church. Someday I'd really like to be Orthodox. Officially. I'm not yet, but there are good reasons for that. So I was sitting in church yesterday, and was surrounded by three fantastic smells: the perfume of the lady in front of me, some sweet Greek bakery that was being prepared for coffee hour (these people can cook), and the incense. It was so cool, because captured in my nose was one of the primary reasons that I love the Orthodox Church. They don't divide the holy from the "worldly" but realize that holiness is big enough to fill anything that will subject itself to it. Icons are not just the paintings on gold leaf.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

New things

So we got a new tv-related contraption. A DVR I think it's called. I realize that most people already know what these things are, but I am AMAZED. And. Our new remote looks like a space ship. Way cool.

Also. We have two kitties. Their litter box is quite the nuisance. But I recently decided to try these sifting litter box liners. AMAZING. I am in love. I know they make mechanical litter boxes that clean themselves, but those seem like a little much to me.

The Red Menace is due anytime in the next 2-9 days. I really don't think it worked this time. But then, I was convinced it did last time... and several times in the last year... and have been wrong. So, if you see the way my logic is about to work, you see where I'm going. This is the first time I've thought for sure I'm not pregnant. Ergo...


I do have a new job which I am really enjoying. Huzzah for that.

Thursday, November 6, 2008


I've been informed that I ought to be blogging.

So here I am.

One year ago, I went off the pill mid (November) cycle. I had to take a short round of antibiotics that would have made the pill ineffective, so we decided what the hay, let's tempt the fates, risk getting pregnant a little earlier than we'd planned, and just quit altogether. In December of 2007, we officially started "trying".

The last real period I had on my own started January 1. Since then, they've all been as far apart as the beginning of the Noahide deluge and the end of it (at least) and Progesterone-induced, with one exception so far. 26 days ago. I'm slightly flabbergasted to realize that it's been almost a year now. I remember this time last year daydreaming about what it would be like to get a positive pregnancy test for Christmas. And now I do the math and see that the timing would be close to that again this year. Funny.

Last cycle was my first "successful" cycle since December '07. Successful in that there was an egg produced. Huzzah! I have finally gotten to that place where I think I'm settled in to the wait. I'm not yet dabbling in the river of hopelessness, but nor am I dancing in the sunshine of certainty. I think it might take a while. I'm prepared for the ache to show up in my chest from time to time for the next few months. But I really want to look out the windows and pay attention to the ride. I don't want to miss anything waiting on what's not here yet.

I have two stepkids. I've mentioned them before. For you, dear reader, it was mere moments ago that you read my last post. For me, it's been months. March-November... almost enough time to fully gestate a baby. So let me tell you about them.

Dear Disney, you've got stepmothers all wrong. This job is wicked hard. (Note to all real moms out there - I'm sure your job is way harder. Someday I'll let you know the difference between the two). We are given fully formed little people, some tiny, some not so tiny any more. Some warm to us immediately. Some are ice water. I happen to have two ranging in temperature from a toasty shower to a comfortable swimming pool. I love them deeply. They drive me crazy. I value them highly. I sometimes fantasize about selling them. Heck, "selling" nothin'. Sometimes I'd pay someone to take them. :) They are an incredible balm some days. They are simply not anything pleasant at all some days. Today, I took my stepson out for ice cream and as I watched him stuff his ice cream cone fully into his mouth and spew vanilla ice cream out the corners of his grin when he giggled, I realized I truly am in love with them. I don't want to miss out on them while I wait for more.

Meanwhile, I can opine and be profound all I like. The incontrovertible truth is that I've been on Clomid for two cycles now, and believe you me, it has been no picnic on the beach. We're talking icepicks and a bitch more like. I'm normal and sane for two weeks, and then start a slow descent into psychopath-dom with "girls" that hurt like fiends and a sleeping schedule rivaling a toddler's. Only more regular and more appreciated. My husband is a saint. He gets to put this part of our life on his resume for Heaven no doubt. He works so hard to unravel the ramblings that seem to make so much sense inside my head but come out of my mouth all screwy. Someone buy this man a drink, eh? I adore him.

But, in the words of my current favorite song, "I wouldn't change a thing. I'd walk right back through the rain. Back to every broken heart on the day that it was breaking. And I'd relive all the years and be thankful for the tears, I've cried with every stumble step that led to you and got me here." There is such treasure here. There will be more upon more in the future.

So there you are xbox. A blog post. Happy? ;)