All of my news - all at one!

Some of the best news ever: Giggles and Chuckles are moving out. You heard me right. As I type this, Chuckles is packing things up and moving it to their new apartment. It happens to be down near the college, but it's far enough away for me for now.

Other news (TRIG WARNING): Giggles had her baby on Monday. Or rather, Tuesday morning. At 4:30 Monday afternoon, while I was playing games, she came to me and said "Um, Jen?" 'yes hun?' "Um...I think my water broke..." I turned to look at her and she was mildly panicked. :) I asked her what happened and sure enough...she didn't break her water but it was definitely leaking. I piled her and Chuckles into the car (where she proceeded to leak ALL OVER MY CAR SEAT all the way to the hospital, through the blanket I put under her) and took them. At 6:00 or so, Aaron and MIL arrived. At 9:00, SIL arrived and took MIL home - which was good, because she was irritating Giggles. AT about 1:00am Giggles started pushing. I helped! I got to count to ten x3 with each contraction. I also got to shush Chuckles a few times. :) Baby was born at 3:33 on November 6. I am still recovering - my muscles are sore from helping.

So baby, giggles and chuckles are all moving. No more crying, wailing baby in the house. I almost crawled out of my skin yesterday as baby wailed for several hours straight. Giggles is having some trouble breastfeeding - she isn't producing enough, so she's having to supplement with formula. She and baby are gone to her parents for a week. She won't be coming back to live at the house as Chuckles will have everything moved by then. YAY! WOOHOO! JUMP FOR JOYOUSNESS!

It's been a rough few days. Wednesday was one of those days when you just know you did something to piss Karma off because she's on your ass like a flea on a dog. Thursday was ok and today has been ok too. Tired as all hell, but I'm alright. I get to catch up on sleep on Sunday. :) Sunday is also Wilma's birthday. A week from today Aaron and I are going on vacation to Seaside, OR for the weekend. His birthday is on the 20th, so it's an early bday present. A few days away from parents, in a hotel where his wife can relax and will hopefully give him good sexing. :) Or so he says...wife might just decide that being drunk and sleeping is a good thing. LOL

I'm sorry for the lack of updating recently, with everything that's going on. I just wanted to make sure they were ACTUALLY moving out before I said anything so I didn't jinx myself. In the meantime, Baby showed up and made it all worse...and better. I'll get used to it. I'm doing better, after having a heart to heart with Wilma. She instinctively knew why I hadn't been around much and was intentionally not pushing me, even though she missed me. She said "I can't begin to fathom what you're going through. No one can. All I can do is try to get an inkling and try to understand from there, and recognize that I will never know how you truly feel." It's so wonderful to have friends IRL who get it....or rather, realize that they never will. They don't say things like "You'll have to get over it some day" like my MIL did on Sunday. We won't go there...just know that there was a HUGE fight immediately following.

Ok...enough typing for one day. Hands are starting to hurt. One more week until Thanksgiving Break and then 3 weeks until Finals! OMG!

God/Karma has a funny sense of humor

UPDATE AT THE BOTTOM
And I'm really tired of being the butt of the joke.

It's official: Giggles and Chuckles are moving out on November 9th. The joke? The baby is due on the 8th. I may not have to wait that long, however. Three days ago she had a doc's appointment. Her doctor told her that she was 75% effaced and that she could feel the baby's head. This led me to think that she's going to have this child before her due date.

I was right, I think. This morning, at 8am, Chuckles took Giggles to the hospital. Her contractions were pretty strong and close together. I got a call from my MIL a bit ago to update me - I had asked her to, because I HATE surprises. I want to know what to expect when I get home from class tonight. Apparently the baby is ok, but they can't wake her. I assume this means that the baby isn't moving much. They're a little worried and keeping a close eye on Giggles and baby. It's sounding more and more like they're going to do a C-section. My heart just plummeted...and even typing the words out makes it feel like my heart is in my stomach.

I can do this, right? I can handle it for a week. Aaron thinks I should take mom's advice. Mom, upon hearing how upset I was after being around Wilma and her newest, said "I think you should go talk to Wilma. Tell her how you're feeling. Hold the baby a lot. You'll get used to it and be ok." I love my mother, but sometimes she's so dense. What am I going to say? "Wilma, I love you. You're my best friend in the whole world. I'm happy that you have two kids - I really am. I love your kids to pieces. However, I cannot stand to watch you bond with your newest. It's killing me. I can't be around you, because you have to bring him with you...and I get that. He needs you and all is cool. I just can't watch the bonding." Yeah...that's going to go over well.

I got to hold him over the weekend and it was fine - I don't have a problem with that. I actually got him to sleep - soundly. I'm great with babies and kids. That's where the problem lies. I'm kick ass with kids - and yet I don't have any. I bond with kids - but I don't have any. Instead I get to watch my friends and family bond with their kids while I stand on the sidelines and watch through the glass. Sometimes I can pretend I'm on the inside - like when I get to hold them. No one seems to see the naked longing that must be on my face as I gaze at the small creature in my arms. Sometimes I pretend that I don't like children - like when they're being loud and noisy - because it's simply easier that way. It's so much easier to retreat into the anger and hate than it is to deal with the other emotions that are evoked.

To move off that topic: I'm giving up on my current pain care doc. I'm trying to get in to see another one. I think my current one is just a needle jockey - he wanted to do another set of injections that would equal out to ten or so by the time they were done. I'm so not willing to do that unless forced. On the up side, the latest medication he put me on seems to be helping a little bit. The burning pain in my hips has subsided. They still hurt, but not as bad. My back is still giving me fits - the knot of pain that left after the last injection two weeks ago has reappeared this morning. I've also got a numb spot the size of a fist that I've had for years - but it's getting more insistent. It used to happen every so often, but not often enough for me to remember when the last time was. Now it's happening every day if not several times a day. No fun. It doesn't hurt, but it sure as hell feels really weird. :) I'm hoping that the new guy is better than the last one - otherwise I might give up entirely!

School is kicking my ass. I have 3 papers due today and I haven't written any of them. :( Biology is HARD - I'll be content if I pull a C something in this class. I'm looking into switching my majors into something more appropriate for me - just a plain old Office Specialist. I can do that. I've done that. The degree will just make it easier to get a job. The state is always looking for them - I don't care what department I work in, just give me a job that makes me money!!! :)

I'm sorry this post has been so long and such a downer. I'm a whiner, it's true. :) I just know y'all will understand. Aaron understands too, but I think he gets tired of it. Hell, when giggles told me what the doc said, I whimpered when she left the room. Aaron said "Yeah, that was about my thoughts on things. I'm sorry hun." He knows - he just knows me. But...it's not fair to him. At least you have the option not to listen to me - he's stuck! I love all of you. The supportive comments have meant a lot to me lately - thank you for caring and letting me know you're there.

UPDATE: Giggles came home around 1:30 with the following instructions: Count the movements. If you don't have X number in two hours, come back. If your contractions are closer than 5 minutes, come back. Well, when Aaron got home he checked in with her. Apparently the baby isn't moving like she should, but they're giving it another 30 minutes. At that point it had been 4 hours! They should have gone back! She decided instead to eat something sugary and see if it helped. WTF? I am so tired of this. Does she not realize how serious this can be? I know, the child could be ok...but she could also be under stress and that's not good. I officially wash my hands of anything that may or may not happen. She refuses to listen to doc orders. I am so angry at her right now.

Kicks to the Gut

There is more coming to my "Pardon Me, Miss" post, but I'll save it for another day. Right now...right now I have other things to whine about. Really, that's all this blog seems to be anymore - a place for me to whine about how life is unfair and painful and I'm tired of it. But really, that belongs in the Bitter post.

Last night I went out with Wilma and another friend to a place where you can paint ceramics. The company has the pieces already - you just go in, purchase one, sit down and paint it. They fire it for you and everything. Well, Wilma brought her baby, which is only to be expected since he's a mere 16 days old. Not that I can believe she brought her child out to a place where there are a lot of other people before he was 6 weeks old, but that's a whole other opinion that I should keep to myself. At any rate, I knew she was bringing him and I figured I could handle it for a few hours. I did.

Barely.

I almost burst into tears when she left. Had I not been in a public place with another friend, I just might have. I had watched Wilma interact with her baby in the only way that a mother can. To see that bond between them, to see her react to her child's cries...it felt like a physical kick to the gut. I tried to escape by going to get food, but she tagged along. There was no breathing room. No way to escape the pain. No way to express it.

It's odd...she doesn't see herself in the same camp as Giggles. We were talking about Giggles and Chuckles being in the house and how I don't want them there. I had mentioned that I really didn't want the baby born while they were still under my roof but that I don't really have a whole lot of say in the matter. Giggles is ripening and is also 37 weeks along - a few more weeks and she'll be having this child. I doubt they'll be out of our home by then. I've tried to convince myself that I just need to come to terms with this fact...but instead I find myself raging and crying a lot. Wilma says "You don't need to put up with that, Jen. They don't understand. Hell, Chuckles still thinks you can get pregnant. All you have to do is have lots and lots of sex, you know. ;) You don't need to have that in your life, and having a child in your house is going to be really hard on you." Funny, that. She doesn't seem to understand that it's just as hard for me to be around her now that she has another child.

The first one wasn't so bad...but we hadn't even gone to an RE yet. We were 7 months into trying when she announced she was pregnant the first time. We still thought we had a chance, that it would just take a little while. Now the second one has arrived and we know we're down for the count. This will not happen for us. Ok, so if I'm absolutely truthful, we have a 1% chance every month. Yes, it theoretically could happen. Yes, miracles do happen all the time. I can't live like that anymore. It's simply easier to say "It will never happen". Wilma doesn't understand that her second child is a lot harder for me to deal with than her first one was. Perhaps on his own, it wouldn't have been TOO bad...but his playmate will be along shortly. I feel like I just can't watch that bonding go on before my eyes, under my roof, every day and know that I will never have that experience. God, just writing this feels like a kick in the gut - I'm almost in tears.

Do you think my DH understands? A little. But he also thinks I'm being a little silly. He says "Honey, you can't resent every baby. That's no way to live your life." I said "I don't resent every baby. I see lots of babies every day and I do not resent them. I don't hate their mothers. I DO resent the ones in my life every day, the ones in my face, the ones that say 'see me? you can never have me.' Those are the ones I resent." Perhaps Aaron is right. Perhaps I am being silly. I can't decide if I'm in the wrong because I don't want to be forced to put up with this anymore or if I'm just being stubborn and being a victim. CAN I deal with this? CAN I put up with having a child in my home? Yes. Do I want to? No. So am I wrong because I don't want to force myself to deal with this if I don't absolutely have to? Don't answer that...it's more or less rhetorical. It's just another sign of my inner battle.

Pardon me, Miss...your bitter is showing

That about sums me up these days. Bitter. I'm talking OJ & toothpaste bitter here, people. What's got me so bitter? I'm glad you asked.

Let's get the obvious out of the way. I haven't seen Wilma since her baby boy was born 15 days ago. We're supposed to go out painting tomorrow with another friend and she's bringing baby with her (I think), so that should be fun. Or not. Other friend doesn't like children - period. She never wants to have them. She'd prefer other people didn't have them either, but that's their choice. She's also 18, so I give her time to mature. :) At any rate, I'm going to be stuck for a few hours with a newborn that I've apparently been avoiding. I mean, how hard is it for me to take a few hours some night and go over to her house to see her? It's not like she lives far away - maybe 10 minutes. I could have gone on Friday, between classes, or sometime on Monday...but I didn't. I'm a terrible friend and I will never admit that I'm avoiding her. Her baby is adorable. I've successfully avoided baby fever the entire time she's been pg, and the entire time Giggles has been living here...only to be blindsided by it an hour after he was born. The night the baby was born, another friend of ours was talking about coming to grips with the fact that his friends were having another child. I told him "Don't worry, J. I won't make you deal with my kids." He says "That's probably a good idea. Keep them away from Uncle J." I said "No, I just won't have any." It struck me then just how bitter I was becoming.

Giggles. Giggles keeps having contractions. She keeps going to the hospital and they keep sending her home. Last week when she went in, her cervix was dilated to 2. She went to the doc yesterday and there's been no change. Tonight, however, her contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and strong enough to bring tears to her eyes. Off to the hospital they went again. I swear, I do not know what I am going to do if they bring home their baby girl. I've been more or less ignoring the fact that Giggles is pregnant simply by not talking about it too much. I've become a hermit, spending a large amount of my time in my computer room. I haven't been in my living room hardly at all for the past few months - just for the occasional movie. I've just given it over as THEIR domain. I've also been hoping against hope that they would find a place before this child is born - and I don't care if it's the day before or if the move makes her go into labor. I WANT THEM OUT BEFORE THAT CHILD IS BORN! I do NOT want a child in this house that is not mine. I realize this is selfish and you know what? I don't give a fucking rat's ass. There is no room. My sanity can't take it. I don't need the sleep dep that's going to come along with having a child across the hall. And these are all excuses for the real reason: It's not mine.

My back. I'm losing all faith in my doctors. I had my 4th injection yesterday - and it didn't work. Doc says the next step is to burn out the nerve (a rhizotomy). I don't think so. I like my nerves right where they are. This also isn't a permanent fix - nerves grow back after 6-9 months and with it comes the pain. I don't want a fucking temporary fix. I'm tired of the pills and the injections and the pain. I'm tired of not being able to walk anywhere. Six months ago walking around campus was no big deal - now it feels like several miles to walk even a short distance and I'm totally wiped. I'm tired of not being able to have sex with my husband because my hips hurt too much (the pain is spreading). I'm tired of not being able to even cuddle with him because he sleeps on my right and the right hip is the worst. It hurts to sit. I WANT MY LIFE BACK! First IF stole it...and just as I was trying to reclaim it, the pain hit hard. I'm just so fucking tired of it all. And I'm tired of being tired. I don't believe that docs can fix me any more. I think they see me as a money pit because I'm desperate for relief. I can't be on the hope roller-coaster. IF sucked that right out of me and I just can't make myself get on it for anything anymore.

I know there's more that's bothering me, but the keyboard is starting to blur from the Ambien I took a few minutes ago. It's 11:00 and I have to be up at 5:30 because my boss decided she needed me at the last minute. So...up early, then bio lab, then a night with Wilma and her baby. I don't think I like tomorrow very much and I'm not even through today yet...

Confessions of a _____ Soul

I'm not sure what category these fall under, or what's even going to come out when I write, but I have to put it down somewhere.

I started reading blogs about the time I started writing mine - a little over a year. In that time I've picked up quite a few blogs that I read regularly - more than just what's on my sidebar. The problem is that I'm not terribly interested in some of them any more. I don't know why, I'm just not. But I can't stop reading them. Why? Because I feel guilty if I try to. I feel like I should continue reading these people because I am a part of their listener base, their support system. It's not right that I just go away when they aren't interesting to me anymore - that's not fair. They aren't writing for my benefit - they are writing for their own...

..and yet I write mine in the hopes that others will read it. I hope that my blog helps other people, even though it's just about my life now and no longer primarily about infertility. Yes, infertility and my struggles with coping play a part...but it's not the primary reason for this place anymore. Now it's a place for me to vent, to put my thoughts out there for other people to read. It's selfish. I want people to listen to me as I scream, I want their support as I go through the same hard times that everyone else goes through. Part of me thinks I'm just being my usual melodrama self and that you're just tolerating me and that this is the reason I don't have many readers. Not that I don't appreciate those that I do, because I do. But I get envious of those whose blogs I stumble upon whose every post has 10-15 comments.

Jealousy. That's another big thing I feel these days. And it's silly as all hell, but it's still there. I get jealous when I see the same names pop up in different blogs all over the place, when the same people get tagged for meme's and awards and whatnot. It's pitiful and pathetic that the blogosphere should make me feel like this. And now, if anyone DOES tag me, I will always wonder if it's because they read this post and catered to me to make me feel better.

I'm miserable these days, can't you tell? I'm in the middle of a HUGE fight with Aaron, which makes me utterly depressed. I'm a negative Nelly (apologies to anyone named Nell around here) and I don't know how to get out of the hole I've sunk in to. I'm not even sure I care enough to try. As I used to say "pardon me while I lay here in the street and bleed a bit."

Updates with Triggers

NEW UPDATE AT THE BOTTOM!!
So I'm a day late and a dollar short, but it's better than nothing! :)

Thanks, Beth, for asking if I'm still alive. I am, but just barely. It was a very very stressful weekend but I did not kill anyone. Except my fertility goddess...she's broken...but my fertility was already broken so I'm not sure it matters. My kitchen floor and wall are done and we're starting to put things back. Aaron and his dad managed to tear 2 holes in my brand new linoleum while putting the fridge back so i have to look into getting that fixed.

Mom's test on Thursday came back clean - no breast cancer that they can find. So it's back to the blood drawing board for her until they can find it. I think she's about ready to give up and just wait for it to show itself.

Wilma and Fred had their baby on Tuesday night. She wasn't supposed to be induced until the 10th, but when she got up she was bleeding pretty heavily. She understandably flipped and called the doc, who ordered her to the hospital. They did a blood test and there were baby cells in her blood, so they came to the conclusion that the placenta was pulling away. Rather than let her wander around until it completely detached and because a true emergency, they decided to go ahead and take him that day. :) So there's a new 7 pound 15 ounce addition...yay! On the selfish side, it means that she won't be able to come to Giggles baby shower this Sunday. I was hoping to have a few friends around that I knew, who would know what it was like (even a little) for me to be there. I don't want her bringing her newborn (who was put in the NICU yesterday because he was having troubles breathing but is ok now) into a house full of smoke.

Ok...I have an appt I have to go to and all of this was written in a drug-induced haze. YAY for Ambien....BOO for not getting enough sleep for it to wear off. Please pardon me if some of this makes no sense. I will try to update more on what's going on with me once I can focus again.

UPDATE AS OF 12:30pm MST: I do believe AF just reared her ugly and yet welcomed head. Today was CD46. If she chooses to stick around and actually flow, that would mean that the first of this long cycle was 23 days, and this one is that long as well...both of which are normal for me. Let's hope that she doesn't disappear again! And NOW I can go rub Mom's face in the fact that I KNEW I wasn't pg and she should just listen to me when I tell her it's all normal!!! :)

Conversations in a dental chair and other things

I had an appointment at the dentist yesterday to get my teeth cleaned. It wasn't my regular dentist or even his assistant who did the cleaning, but someone totally new. While she was cleaning, the following conversation took place:

(H = hygenist, M = Me)

H: So, do you have kids?
M: (oh god...here we go again) Nope.
H: You're lucky.
M: We've been trying for 3 1/2 years.
H: Oh, so you probably want them.
M: (Duh) Yeah, but we can't have them.
H: You could always adopt. There are lots of children that need homes.
M: (oh my god...where do people get off?) Well, if I had $18K just sitting around with nothing else to do with it, I'd certainly contemplate it.
H: Oh my! I had no idea it cost that much!
M: Once you include lawyer fees and agency fees and all the paperwork and home studies...yeah, it does. It's only slightly less expensive to adopt out of country.
H: You'd think that with so many kinds needing places to go it wouldn't be so expensive. I personally know 3 couples who've adopted children from...China, I think.
M: (Congrats lady - I know a whole community) It's just not feasible for us.
H: Well, you could always borrow my 14 year old for a week. I guarantee you won't want kids after that.
M: (sits in silence so as not to scream at her about the teens living in her house, or the pregnant friend with her second child on the way or the pregnant lady living in her house)

Where do people get off? It's really odd that this conversation took place when it did because I had just gotten done reading this story in the local paper. It's about people who have large families and the looks/comments they get...and how society feels free to barge in on a personal decision such as that. Or the lack of children. If you have no children, people pity you. If you have one, people always ask when you are having the next one. If you have three, people make comments like "Don't you know what causes that?" or "Why do you have so many?" or some such. Society likes us having our 2 kids...and that's it.

Today is our 4 year anniversary! We're staying here tonight, in the Carriage Room (I think). Aaron took tomorrow off so we could spend the day together. Some days I can't believe we've made it this far. I'm so blessed to have him for a husband. He understands me so well...most of the time. Mom says he's the perfect husband for me - and I think she's right (as usual).

Life is so packed right now. In between work and school, the drywallers are coming over the next 3 days to put the wall back up behind my washing machine and dryer. Mom is coming up tomorrow and staying for 5 days. I have a lab exam tomorrow for which I am woefully prepared because I've been spending so much time trying to fix everything else. I meet with my back doctor today to discuss the next step in treatment...which involves putting leads inside my vertebrae and connected to my spinal column, which are then attached to a generator. The generator blocks the pain signal coming from the specific area that hurts. I don't know that I want to do this, but I don't have much choice anymore. Sometime next week the floor guy should be coming in to finish my kitchen floor.

Just 6 more weeks until Thanksgiving break...I think. Maybe THEN I can breathe a little.

Unresolved issues

I just got a call from mom. The good news is that the cancer isn't in her lungs, brain, liver or kidneys. The bad news is that they still don't know where it is. There is something going on in the left quadrant of her body, however. There is a mass in her left breast, but they don't know if it's a tumor or just scar tissue from when she had breast cancer 4 years ago. They couldn't do her MRI mammogram on Wednesday because they couldn't get her shoulders into the machine without suffocating her. She is coming up here on Thursday to get one done - there is a cancer institute here in Boise that has WAY better machinery. So she's coming up and will probably stay through Tuesday morning. She says "So the good news is that I'm not dying...yet". :) Go mommy and her sense of humor! Sorry I don't have any better information for y'all, but I'm passing on what I get. Thanks so much for all the prayers and kind words of support...it means a lot to me.

On other fronts, I am trying to face the fact that my mother may not live to see me give her grandchildren. I've always kept in the back of my mind the idea that I might, someday, get pregnant through a miracle of nature. I know that it's not really realistic, but it's still a thought. Considering that I'm having a hard time still with dealing with the idea of not having children...I think I'm doing pretty well. But then I thought about mom dying and never getting to see the children I might someday have...and was almost tempted to start treatments again. IVF, IUI, adoption...whatever. Just please let me give my mom grandkids. Let them get to know her, so they don't have to know her through stories like I did for her parents. I am not ready to start treatments again though and am not sure I ever will be again.

Yesterday I held a baby shower for Wilma. Thankfully she and Giggles were the only preggos there so it wasn't too bad...although I was ready to kill her daughter by the time I left. In two weeks, however, life is going to SUCK. I'm holding a baby shower for Giggles on the 7th. She's planning on inviting a bunch of girls from her school. She attends a school for pregnant girls who want to graduate but can't go to regular school either because they are pregnant and will have to take time off, or because they had to drop out to have the child and can't afford daycare. The school had a nursery and daycare in it, so they can still go to school. Well...you see where this is going. I'm going to be SURROUNDED by women in various stages of pregnancy. In my house. Where I can't leave to escape. Ugh. I think I must be crazy. Oh well...I suppose I shall survive.

Ok...enough procrastinating for me. I need to go study and do some homework. Love all of you! *MUAH*

The waaaaaiting is the hardest part

/Tom Petty song

I went to the doc this morning and talked to him about my missing AF. As of today, she is 5/7/9 days late. The doc asked me about my stress levels...yes, they're through the roof but I've been here before and it's done nothing but make my cycles 28 days instead. I tried to explain that, and the 31 day chemical pg. As soon as he noted there was a little variation, he decided that we should give it another cycle to show up. If not, he'll do a progesterone challenge. A wha-huh? I'm going to assume Provera, since I can't think of anything else. Joy. I get to wait another month, which means that when she DOES show it's going to be a real bitch. I'm guessing that the longer you go without a cycle the more ick and the heavier it will be? I have no experience with this...I'm adrift in the infertility sea and I'm not used to that.

Also on the topic of waiting: I spoke to my mom this morning. They did her mammogram and the MRI mammogram on Wednesday - she should get those results on Monday. They also managed to get her in for that PET scan yesterday instead of next week. She will probably get those results on Monday as well. So the wait is on...just a few more days.

I keep getting ahead of myself with all of this. I"ve gotten myself totally freaked out, thinking "What am I doing to do with dad when she dies? We aren't exactly close anymore and I can't relate to him and he's not even remotely open about his feelings. How will I help him grieve? How will I take care of him? That house is too big for just him, even though it's a small house. He couldn't even manage to take care of it and himself when mom was in the hospital...let alone never coming home again. He refuses to pay the bills, even though mom told him what to pay when. He just saved it up and took it to her once a week so she could do them. How is he going to cope? Would it be better for him to stay there? Move to Burley where his job is? Move back 'home' to MA with his family? Move here with me? But if he does that I will feel compelled to check in on him several times a week. There's a reason my parents are 200 miles away. But he's my dad - it's my job to take care of him. Who is going to plan the funeral? Will mom want me to sing? CAN I sing? I think I know what she'd want me to sing but I don't know if I can do it then. It's hard normally! Where will she want to be buried? Where she's lived for the past 25 years? Flown back to MA and buried with her family? If she does that it means cremation - can we handle that? Will my brother attend the funeral? do I want him to? Will there be a will, since my father is still alive, or does everything automatically transfer to him? I'm sure he'll give me her clothes, since I'm the one who is her size...but do I want them? Can I make myself get rid of them, knowing they were mom's? What do I do????" (insert heart rending, soul searing wail from the core of my being here)

This is what's been going round and round and round in my brain since Monday. I know I'm ahead of myself...we have to get through the dx and treatment (if any) first. She may not die for years and years...or it could be next week. None of this is really my responsibility, but I always have to have a plan. Without a plan I'm lost.

I'm lost.

The results are in

Does it get much more negative than 1?

I took a test this morning because they told me yesterday that I wouldn't get my results until Friday when my CBC came back. I called this morning to ask them to please call the lab, because had I known it was going to be 3 days I wouldn't have wasted my money. They called me back with a 1.

So...I'm 3/6/9 days late depending on the cycle. I'm very obviously not pregnant. AF shows no signs of arriving. Color me really fucking confused.

Just the facts, Ma'am

I apologize in advance if this rambles a lot or has a lot of typos. It's almost 4am and I can't sleep. The meds I was taking to help me stay asleep have stopped working so I've stopped taking them. Once again I'm awake every night at exactly 3am...only I couldn't get back to sleep this time. As I laid in bed, trying to will myself back to sleep, I got to thinking about several things. I've decided to put these things down here, in an effort to get them out of my brain.

1) I have to face the fact that I may very well lose my mother this time. Apparently she and my sister talked about a month or so ago about what would happen if she ever got cancer again - before she ever knew about this. My sister told her that she felt like she'd given it a good fight; she'd done all the treatments and it keeps coming back. If mom doesn't want to do any treatments this time, my sister will not fight her on it. Mom already knew where I stand...in the same place I always do. I love my mother with all my heart and soul but I will not stand in the way of her decision. It is her choice and I will abide by it. I will not make it harder, I will not let her see how hard it is for me, I will not let her feel guilt for it. I will protect her from others to the best of my abilities and will be there whenever she needs me. She knows this - it has always been my role in her life. I am not ever going to be ready to lose my mother, but I have to learn to accept that she will not always be here. I mean, I've obviously always known that she wouldn't live forever, but it will always be too soon.

2) Giggles is going to have this child while living in my house. Her doc wants her to try very hard to keep it in for another week and a half and then she is permitted to have it. Regardless of timing, though, I don't think they are going to be out of my house before the child is born. I am going to have to come to grips with this. It's harder than I realized, but I can do it. I'm probably going to be angry as all hell, but I think I can deal with it.

3) I need to make myself focus on my schooling. I don't want to - I just want to hide - but I can't afford to. I need to stop procrastinating and study. WoW will still be there when I get done with my homework. (I just started playing a few days ago and I LOVE it!) My husband will still be there, the laundry will still be there (unfortunately)...and I can't afford to fail any more tests. I failed my first Bio test yesterday morning and have asked the prof if I can retake it because I just can't focus. Between the lack of sleep and everything else that is going on, I'm doing good to remember my name!

4) No matter what happens, I will live. Nothing I've listed is going to kill me. I may feel like it. I may be seriously overwhelmed. But I have a support network - my family, my IRL friends, and the community here. Thank you everyone for your words of support and love as my world tries to crash down and I dodge the debris. It is good to know that you're all still out there. Thank you.

My world

I'm sorry I left you hanging last time. Thanks a very whole big bunch and lots to those who left me words of encouragement, and those who didn't but might have been praying for me. It's been very appreciated. I left the comments in my inbox so I could go back and look at them when I needed a pick me up. Life hasn't been so good lately and I haven't been able to blog about it. Last post was 100...yay! So let's see...what's been up in the past big?

I'm on Welbutrin again. It seems to be helping. This is good, because life isn't cooperating.

I'm having my kitchen floor replaced and it's been a nightmare. The washing machine has been leaking and the floor is finally giving out. It's buckling, so I decided to replace it now rather than later. I got an estimate from Lowe's...almost $3K! WTF? We can't afford that, so I placed a claim with homeowners insurance. The lady came out on Friday to check it out and said the labor charge was WAY off. I called Lowe's back...and it turns out that the installer didn't listen to anything I said. He decided how he was going to redo my kitchen and that's that. I said "That shit ain't happenin' buddy" and they sent me a new installer today. Meanwhile, I called the adjuster back to let her know what the problem was. SHE decided she didn't like my wet floor being there any longer than it needed to be, so she sent a company out here to rip up my floor. UGH.

Meanwhile, Giggles starting having contractions on Wednesday. She went in to the L&D because she couldn't feel the baby move. They gave her a shot to stop the contractions and sent her home. Friday I had to take her back in. Saturday we almost did it again. Saturday night I had a total breakdown. It's a lot harder having her in the house then I thought it would be. I had really hoped that they would be out before the baby was born, but this may not be the case. She's only 32 weeks, but I don't think she's going to carry to term. I can't deal with this. I feel like a horrible person because I feel like I hate her. I resent her tremendously. I'm sick of people fawning all over her. I want her gone. And none of this is her fault. She's not doing it on purpose; I'm sure (100%) that she doesn't want to be having contractions either and doesn't want her child yet either. I still hate it.

Also, my mom just called. They think she has cancer again. It's September; I shouldn't be surprised. See, 4 years ago on September 5th she was diagnosed with breast cancer. They caught it early and she did radiation. The following year on September 5th, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. It was not an early catch, but as early as they could feasibly catch it. The damn tumor was 18cm! She had chemo and has been ok. We made it through last September with no cancer, although it was a tense month, only to pay for it with her problems this past winter. And now, it's September again, and her CA-125 is elevated. That gets elevated when ovarian cancer is present. Well, mom doesn't have any ovaries any more, or a uterus. This means that there were cancer cells left and they've metastasized. While the docs don't know where the cancer is just yet, when OC metastasizes, it usually goes to the brain or lungs. Y'all...I'm terrified this time. Those aren't terribly operable places. I'm not ready to lose my mommy but I have to face it this time.

She wants to have a family meeting once she knows more, with my sister and her boys as well as me. Aaron and my BIL can come if they want, I don't know if my brother will be there. I am on my mother's side, regardless of what she decides to do. She didn't want to do chemo last time, but my sister guilted her into it by saying "Fine. You don't have to do chemo. But if you don't, you have to explain to Daniel (my nephew who was 12 at the time) why you are choosing to die instead of live." Of course, she chose to do it when I was out of the room or there would have been hell to pay. NONE of us have a right to tell mom what she has to do. Of course we don't want to lose her...but we don't have to live with the effect. She does. She's 60 years old - old enough to make her own damn decisions on what she wants to do. I will stand by her and protect her from my father and sister.

AF is late. Today is CD28 and she's not here. The last time I had a cycle that was 28 days was when I had that chemical pregnancy in July of 2004, the one that sparked everything. I haven't tested yet. I don't have any tests in the house and I don't have time to deal with a positive anyhow. If she still hasn't arrived by Wednesday I will test in the morning, provided I've found time to get to the store. If not, I will see if the doc can fit me in for a beta while I'm on campus. This would just be a kick in the pants. I know there's a lot of stress in my life and stress can delay AF...but this isn't funny. Not even remotely.

To top it all off, I have been missing classes because of dealing with the house. I have an exam tomorrow that I am woefully unprepared for. And the final blow? Robert Jordan died yesterday.

I'm worried about me

(just as a forewarning: this may take a few posts or edits to complete as I am doing this in between classes)

I"m really starting to get worried about me. I feel as if all the joy has left my life. I rarely laugh any more. I might giggle...maybe...but I can't remember the last time I really, truly laughed. I don't feel alive. Anger, frustration and irritation are the only emotions I feel any more. This has been the case for a while but it's getting worse. I feel like I'm dying inside. All I want to do is drink and sleep and drink some more. I'm not...yet...but I want to. My heart isn't in my classes this semester and it's already showing. I can NOT make myself buckle down and do my work. I blame it on not having any space alone or time alone, but even when I do have time or a place I find something else to do. Like surf the net. Or read another book instead of my school books. I'm depressed and I know it...and it's worse than it's been in a long time. I can't remember when I last wanted to sit and drink...not to get drunk, but just to be more mellow. I want to run and hide and never come back out and it scares me.

MIL still hasn't stopped smoking, shock of all shocks. Her claim that she wasn't going to buy more smokes? A lie, as usual. I'm a sneaky bitch and counted the smokes in her pack yesterday, thinking that maybe she was just cutting back slowly and it was still the same pack she'd had and knowing the only way to find out was to count them. There were 12 in that pack yesterday. I counted this morning and there were 15. That means she smoked 17 yesterday...and that she's buying more packs. I had the thought that I would write her a letter, letting her know how all this makes me feel. I should have done it last week when I was fully angry, but I didn't. And now I'm having trouble making myself care. I know it won't make a difference...why should I bother?

I'll be starting back on my antidepressants once my mouth heals from my latest dentist appointment this afternoon. Last time I was swollen for 4 days and could barely eat pudding, let alone try to fit pills in my mouth. I don't think they alone are going to do the trick, though. I know they can only fix so much. Chuckles and Giggles might be moving out soon - they are going to get a list of income-based housing from one of the girls that Giggles goes to school with. That will make things a little better still, as I will not have him constantly irritating me and will give me a place to hide again.

I feel apathetic, but know that I'm not truly because I still care that I don't care. As if THAT makes much sense.

(ok, time for class. I'll finish this later, if I can bring myself to care enough)

Never Happy, Never Satisfied

If you look back through my posts or have known me for a while, you know how often I've bitched because my MIL won't stop smoking. We've made deal after deal after deal with her to get her to smoke outside. She's been promising for several years that she'll quit, but she never seems to manage to. She once quit for 4 years...only to pick back up as soon as we moved in. She did this knowing that I suffer from asthma, knowing that it was affecting our chances to have a child. She smoked outside for a little while during our IUI treatments, but as soon as it didn't work she scooted back in...about the time I started school last year, just like I knew she would. The instant I wasn't home all day to keep an eye on her, she'd be like a willful child.

Now...I know it's not easy to quit. I watched my dad struggle for years to do so and it took him being in the hospital for a week (unrelated) for him to be able to quit. I watched as Wendy stopped smoking and cheered her on with every update. I watched my ex-husband try to quit, succeed, start, quit, start, quit...I don't even know where he is on that cycle anymore. So why am I so hard on MIL? Because she's being her usual whiny self about it. She says "I wasn't going to say anything but I'm down to a pack and two cigarettes left and I'm not buying any more." This was two days ago. Tonight she comes in and says "Remind me why I'm not smoking in the morning?" Well...because you want to quit would be my guess. Don't rely on me to help you quit - this is something you have to do on your own. From the other room, after we gave her a list of reasons, I hear her say "So Giggle's baby will be born healthy".

WTF? What was that again? You don't give a rat's ass about our health, apparently, or our attempts at having a child (despite your complaints to the contrary) but you care about her child? Don't get me wrong, I think it's great, but where was all this concern when we were seriously trying? Why did we have to beg and plead and cajole and bribe JUST TO GET HER OUTSIDE? Forget trying to get her to quit - that just earned her whining to Aaron that I was making her feel like a criminal. It's my fucking house. She keeps reminding me of this. It should be my fucking rules, but I can't change a goddamn thing without her bitching about it. I've tried very hard not to make any rules, but it would be entirely within my right to order her ass outside. I'm just afraid they'd move out.

The other part of my brain, the apparently rational part, says "Why does it matter WHY she's quitting? Isn't it enough that she just is?" Apparently not, for I am very angry at her. I don't want to put up with her whiny, poor me, victim/martyr attitude over this. I am really, really glad that school starts on Monday. In the meantime, I think Foamy the Squirrel expresses it perfectly. (Warning: Language sensitive)

I am ashamed....

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I'm not nearly as geeky as I thought I was. Thanks to Adrienne for the link. Oh...and my husband? He's 79% geek. I have a long way to go, baby!

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Call for help

For once, nothing to do directly with me! :)

My SIL has been put on Methotrexate for her lupus. Prior to this the only thing I knew about it was that it was given to women with ectopic pregnancies. SIL has been forbidden to even think about the possibility that she might, one day, want to get pregnant while taking this...so she's aware of that effect. I also warned her of what I knew. :) I also strongly suspect that she has endo. She's in the process of getting tested for it - I think. At this point I'm not sure what she's doing, but the pain is killing her and she wants it done.

I know that many of you have probably taken the Methotrexate. I also know that a lot of you have endo. One question I have: Will the methotrexate help her endo pain? I'm not sure how methotrexate actually works, so I have no theories. Can anyone tell me how it works and if it might help her in that aspect?

Also, she's having horrible s/e's. I feel so sorry for her - they sound worse than what I went through when I first took Metformin (the effects of which are referred to as "salsa butt" now...). Her pharmacist told her she just has to ride it out. That would be great, if she was only taking it short term. As far as we know, she's on it until she decides she wants to start TTC...which she isn't sure she'll ever do, because of the lupus. Does anyone have any tips on what she can do to help ease the s/e's? I hate to see her like this - combined with her pain, she's hardly able to get out of bed!

Thanks girls! I appreciate your help - and I'm sure SIL does too.

Go Crazy? Don't mind if I do!

I have somehow developed a yeast infection. It's been around for 3 days. I think it's in response to the antibiotic I'm taking for my ear, although it's not listed as a side effect. I can't figure out any other reason I would have one. I haven't had one in...10 years? or so. Long enough that I can't rightly remember at any rate. It's driving me MAD! I think these things exist just to drive women abso-freaking-lutely nutso! I'm going to the store today but I might kill someone first!

On the killing front, Chuckles is still in danger. He loves to sass every last female in his life...both SIL's, MIL, me. When we get angry he says "I'm just teasing". He doesn't seem to get that IT'S NOT FUNNY. At least Giggles is ok with me slapping him, which I've done several times. He brings out the worst in me and it's frustrating. I have a hard enough time controlling my temper without someone intentionally provoking me just because he thinks it's funny. He also doesn't understand tone of voice and hasn't learned to read behind the words. Everyone knows that women rely on these two things to communicate. The smart man will learn this lesson quickly. The stupid one listens to just the words, filters it through his man brain, and then acts. Even when I am totally NOT subtle and tell him to knock it the fuck off...he doesn't get it. I've never met a more dense male in my LIFE!

Aaron had to ask MIL yet again to take her ass outside to smoke. Every time. Without fail. It's making Giggles nauseated to be exposed to it. Of course, we told her before Giggles arrived that she needed to go outside for the health of the baby and Giggles. She agreed...but then only goes out if Giggles is in the back room. Well, the smoke is getting into the kitchen (because it's an open area!) and making her sick. She's asked MIL a few times to go out, and MIL will...twice...but then she's back in. So Aaron got to be really firm with both her and FIL and told them it was making it hard for Giggles to breathe (he misunderstood, apparently) and they said they would. I doubt it...if they cared about someone's ability to breathe, they'd go outside always already since they know I have asthma. We'll see what happens. I don't want to get involved because it won't be pretty, but I will if I have to. I have no problem with ordering them to go outside or stop smoking.

School starts in 2 1/2 weeks. On one hand, it's only 2 1/2 weeks away! I haven't gotten 1/4 of the things done this summer that I wanted to. On the other hand, it's still 2 1/2 weeks away! I want/need to get out of this house. Chuckles will hopefully start his job soon, but I still need out. Because of my schedule I will probably be spending a lot more time on campus this year, which means a lot less time at home. :)

Ok...I think I'm done with my update. Please keep Baby Blues in your prayers. She just got her BFP and is spotting and on bedrest. Also, Adrienne got her BFP, and is having some worries. Please pray for them in the coming weeks. Thanks!

Glimpses of my soul

I know I've been doing a lot of things like this lately. I don't really have a whole lot else to say, aside from bitching about Chuckles and that gets old. I also think these can help give an insight into who I am and why I do the things I do. :) thanks to Snickollet for the latest link.



From the website:
"At work, ISFJs contribute loyal, sympathetic, consistent, and considerate service to others. They are know for their kindness and for their willingness to go to any length to help those in need. They take the practical needs of people into account when they do their work, and their strong follow-through skills allow them to carry out organizational goals. They do at least what is expected to them and oftentimes more, without attracting attention to themselves. They are painstaking and responsible with detail and routine, and feel it is important to have the right things in the right places at the right times."

That one is totally me. It's how I've ended up with a house full of family, even though I hate it sometimes. It's the right thing to do, because they need me/us. I can't boot them, as some people have suggested, because it's not who I am. I'll let them anger me and frustrate me and drive me to insanity...but I just CAN'T kick them out. They'd have nowhere to go and that would make me even more upset.

Also from the website: "The primary desire of the Protector SJ is to be of service to others, but here "service" means not so much furnishing others with the necessities of life, as guarding others against life's pitfalls and perils, that is, seeing to their safety and security" and "ISFJs have a rich inner world that is not usually obvious to observers. They constantly take in information about people and situations that is personally important to them, and store it away. This tremendous store of information is usually startlingly accurate, because the ISFJ has an exceptional memory about things that are important to their value systems. It would not be uncommon for the ISFJ to remember a particular facial expression or conversation in precise detail years after..."

This is also me. I am always trying to protect people, keep them from getting hurt and making the same mistakes I've made. I have a lot of life experience, either from listening to others (another ISFJ trait) or experiencing it myself. I remember, and apply, everything people tell me. It frustrates me when people don't listen...I'm trying to help, dammit! I try to remember what it was like when I was younger and didn't listen to my mom, and how frustrating it must have been for her to have to sit back and watch instead of strangling me. I'm not sure how she did it!

the website is pretty cool. It tells you other people, both real and fictional, who are your personality type. It also gives you good career matches. What do you know...medical technologist is listed, and that's my major!!!

I am

You're The Sound and the Fury!

by William Faulkner

Strong-willed but deeply confused, you are trying to come to grips with a major crisis in your life. You can see many different perspectives on the issue, but you're mostly overwhelmed with despair at what you've lost. People often have a hard time understanding you, but they have some vague sense that you must be brilliant anyway. Ultimately, you signify nothing.


Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

Thanks to Snickolllet for the link.

The waiting is over

(WARNING: This post is angsty and possibly a bit graphic)

AF finally arrived last night around 9:30. She's still light, but the last two have been as well. I figured this one would be heavy, since the last two were light and this one is later than usual, but I'll have to wait and see.

I snapped at Chuckles last night. So far he's been slightly amusing where pregnancy is concerned. He lectured me yesterday on how to use a HPT and when the best time was - I tried not to look at him as if he were an alien. As if I haven't figured this out after all this time? I mean, yes I've taken tests only a handful of times...but I think I know how and when! Last night, though, was the straw. My period finally started and I rejoiced, because it meant I didn't have to test this morning (I hate it) and I could get my root canal done today without feeling guilty. He looks at me and says in all seriousness "You know Jen-Jen, you could still be pregnant".

I almost killed him. If Giggles hadn't been in the way I might have gotten very close to him to say what I said in response. As it was, I snapped "No, Chuckles, I'm not. I've been doing this for 3 1/2 fucking years and I can guarantee you that if my period started then I am not pregnant."

He said "But..." and I said "No. Not fucking pregnant" and he just pointed at Giggles.

Oh for the love of all that is sacred and holy! Have I not served my time? Have I not done what I could to educate every last person in my vicinity on what not to say? Have I not tried to de-bunk every fucking myth I've come across? WHY...WHY when I finally get the people in my life to stop harassing me with "just relax" and false hope do I have to do this again?! Why do people insist on believing that just because they got pregnant while on vacation in Jamaica that everyone who wants to be pregnant should go to Jamaica? Just because it sometimes happens does not mean it happens every fucking time. I'm fairly certain that infertility exists there too! And just because Giggles may or may not have had her period the first month she was pregnant does not mean that every other fucking female on the face of this planet will have her period the first month they are pregnant!

I don't know what to do with him. I refuse to let false hope exist in this household. I've served my time, I've had my pain. I have my own hopes (I tested, didn't I?) and I've learned to live with my period showing up, the blood representing my beaten and battered dreams flowing out for another month. My husband has learned what to do and say - and I don't think he's ever tried the false hope route. I've tested when AF is here at least once, because I was convinced that I had to have been pregnant and that this was just a fluke. I'VE BEEN THIS ROUTE. Please, God, don't make me do it again. I can't take it.