A couple poems

All by C.S. Lewis.


There's a repose, a safety (even a taste
Of something like revenge?) in fixed despair
Which we're forbidden. We have to rise with haste
And start to climb what seems a crazy stair.
Our consolation (for we are consoled,
So much of us, I mean, as my be left
After the dreadful process has unrolled)
For one bereavement makes us more bereft.
It asks for all we have, to the last shred;
Read Dante, who had known its best and worst -
He was bereaved and he was comforted
- No one denies it, comforted - but first
Down to the frozen centre, up the vast
Mountain of pain, from world to world, he passed.




Relapse

Out of the wound we pluck
The shrapnel. Thorns we squeeze
Out of the hand. Even poison forth we suck,
And after pain have ease.

But images that grow
Within the soul have life
Like cancer and, often cut, live on below
The deepest of the knife,

Waiting their time to shoot
At some defenceless hour
Their poison, unimpaired, at the heart's root,
And, like a golden shower,

Unanswerably sweet,
Bright with returning guilt,
Finally in a moment's time defeat
Our brazen towers long-built;

And all our former pain
And all our surgeon's care
Is lost, and all the unbearable (in vain
Borne once) is still to bear.

Snap

The good news is that my body managed to do it all on its own. For that, we are very pleased. We're hoping it's starting a new trend.

Am I surprised this cycle ended? No, not in the least.

But still. You know.

An image

It's CD33. Pretty sure it's going to turn into CD1 here in a bit. The "stars" are aligning. Taking a deep breath, and waiting. This whole cycle has been a bit of a vacation. With a few stinging exceptions, we didn't think too much about the whole TTC "thing". I had a vague notion when I might have been ovulating, but I didn't tell J, and we had quite a good time not worrying about timing and position and what have you. I didn't expect to wind up pregnant this round. The odds are as low as they've ever been, really. His counts are still in the toilet, and there was no guarantee I'd ovulate on my own. I've only done it twice in the past five years after all.

So given all that, I'd have thought that maybe I'd get off easy this cycle. Maybe I wouldn't have to try, again, fruitlessly, to batter down the hope that inevitably rises as the days go by. Maybe I wouldn't wake up one morning to find the pain in my breasts forebodingly diminished. Maybe I wouldn't have to fight the urge to dig my heels into fate in front of me and my fingertips into the hope behind me.

Well, folks, there really is no cheating. No free passes. The hand stinks, and you fold it again. And you wait to be dealt a new one.

Oh. The image? Have you ever broken a stick with your foot? You know that slow cracking before the snap? These hours are like that.

I'm going to go sew something. And listen to that song. "Ain't no rhyme or reason, no complicated meanin', ain't no need to overthink it, let go laughin'... Life don't go quite like you planned it..."

Bootstraps. Yank.

Introducing...

My stepson. He's five, and this is his brand new trademark face.

In other news, I am sane and no longer the spawn of lucifer. Yay! I am, however, a water tower. I think I have retained every bit of water I've swallowed in the last 3 days. Please, someone, wring me out. I would love to swell up, but with a brand new person. Not with enough water to douse a small house fire. Am I being picky?

Satan pills

Bad news for all you fellow Clomid-poppers out there. And those of you related to said Clomid-poppers. Coming off the Satan pills is just as bad emotionally as starting them. I am the devil's spawn.

Just sayin.

Still Alive

Hi. I'm still alive. :) I just haven't had much to say.

This past Monday, J and I went on a bit of a road trip to Lexington, Kentucky. It was LOVELY. He didn't know I'd planned this whole trip, mind you. He had a meeting Monday morning, and when he got home around noon, I had everything packed and ready to go. Into the car he was stuffed and off we drove. About halfway there I told him where we were going. :) It was cool. His birthday is coming up next week, so this was his present.

We got there Monday night and had a tasty Thai dinner. Tuesday, we visited the Woodford Reserve distillery where one of the best small batch, triple distilled, Kentucky bourbons is made. We'd never had bourbon before, but as it turns out, we rather liked it. :) We bought a bottle. It's delicious, yo. ;)

DELICIOUS dinner and awesome conversation Tuesday night. We came home Wednesday.

I love my hubby. He's awesome. *happy sigh*

I have a pic I really want to upload onto here. My stepson, who drives me absolutely nutty sometimes, is hilarious. He turned 5 (FIVE!) on May 3 and his party was last weekend. He was delirious with joy. Both sets of grandparents were here, along with two awesome uncles, an awesome aunt and an awesome almost aunt. OH MY GOSH it's great to be five. He was a blur. Haha.

Incidentally, it's CD *counting* (I love that I don't know off the top of my head) 24. I'm eager to see if my body can crank out a cycle all on its own without any help from certain Satan pills.

So, how are you?

New theme song

Again I will say to ignore the actual video unless you need help catching the lyrics. Apparently there's no official video out yet. I do what I can folks. I will just say that in the past week, there have been several moments where you might have found your local non-mom dancing ridiculously around the house with a broom, mop, duster, etc, to this song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ph49YlxCqi8

I will say that 2 weeks post-meeting with the doc who seemed to insinuate that we had no chance of conceiving on our own, and about 1.5 weeks post-cry-your-eyes-out, I'm doing very well. I think, in fact, that this might be the healthiest I've been about this whole nonsense in quite a while. Life simply isn't how I planned it. But whose really is?

It's like what I tell my stepkids when they don't want to eat something someone else has prepared for them. I don't have to like it, but I do have to be nice anyhow.

Folding

We went to J's appointment yesterday afternoon. The doc is not worried at all by his low counts, or the extra white blood cells that were present in the sample. The counts could very easily be due to the fact that J had a prolonged fever just about once a month since, I don't know, October. If "certain areas" get too warm, little swimmy guys start to suffer. However, it takes about 3 months to bounce back (Q: how does ANYBODY get pregnant if even a fever can squish your chances?). So, J need to have another analysis done towards the end of June, assuming he doesn't get horribly sick between now and then. He will not.

Yes, this is good news. I'd pretty much resigned myself to not being able to do this ourselves, so it's nice to have that possibility back on the table. It's frustrating to, once again, not know anything for another 2 months. And more between then. I'm not going to be on any meds at all til we know what's going on with J. No IUIs, no IVF til the end of the summer. The doc said to consider it a vacation.

Yeah. OK.

Truth is, I'm just about "responsed" out. This is all good news, right? And I should feel that way, right? I just pretty much feel exhausted and flat.

But generally speaking, doing OK.

Oh. The title? Ever heard that classic, "You've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run..."