I am tired because I haven’t been sleeping very well. I haven’t been sleeping well because one morning last week my alarm didn’t go off and I and was late for work, so now when it starts getting light out I wake up every 15 minutes and check the time. This is exhausting. I really should let it go, because work just laughed, I didn’t get in trouble, but now my subconcious is paranoid. It needs to go to friggin sleep.

Today I had a tweaked nerve in my back that kept sending pains shooting up when I twisted the wrong way.

And finally my allergies are in full force, makes me feel like I have a sock stuffed up into my nasal cavity. I was confused about it until I realized I’d been leaning heavy on the milk and ice cream lately. So I’m going off dairy completely to see if that gets this back under control. Zyrtek might be helping to take an edge off in the meantime. Maybe. When I remember to take it.

All in all I feel like a major whiner at work, which I really try not to do. I don’t want to be that person.

But other than all that, I actually feel pretty good. It’s a nice relief to not be on any hormones, to let my body just chill out. I feel like it’s wound tight, waiting, like it can’t quite accept that I’m not throwing something at it this month. (While I am am on cycle day 12, I am nowhere near ovulating yet. And, yes, I had to actually open up a calendar and count.)

It’s nice to be able to do things, plan things. One of the most frustrating things with cycles is the way it makes you feel like your entire future is balanced on a teeter-totter. Will you be coming to that party next month? Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I’ll be holed up in my room crying, maybe I’ll be out celebrating. Maybe I’ll be able to drink, maybe I’ll be sitting in the corner, enviously eyeing everyone (because while I’d gladly give up drinking were I actually pregnant, of course it’s “just in case” and I know I’ll test negative in a few days time).

It just feels good to let go… knowing I will return, but just to allow myself to step out of it for a little while. I have no choice, no decisions… just time to put aside.

I didn’t expect to feel this way.

::

We went to the movies tonight, to Star Trek. I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone, though I’m only mentioning the very beginning of the movie. But at the beginning of the movie when James was born, it was in the middle of an attack. His father stayed behind to fight, to hold off the attackers while the others – including his wife and newborn son – were able to escape.

It made my breath stop. The birth and death tied together, the saying goodbye and never getting to see his son, a son never knowing his father… it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I could feel the tension envelop Den and I… he didn’t say a word, but I could feel it, could hear his breath get short. That grief sitting on our chests.

For the other people in the theater it was probably just a sad part to the movie. But to us it was memories and grief bubbling to the surface at a time when we least expected it.

I was really looking forward to the fourth of july this year. Being a Canadian in the US makes it kind of weird; Canada Day was never a huge thing back home. We’d acknowledge it, but that’s about it. But here, not only is it a big deal in general, but some friends of ours have a huge party every year. Plus the bank closes for the day, which means I got a full 2-days off for my weekend!

We had plans. However, things don’t always go as planned…

Here’s what I envisioned for our lovely fourth of july party: Set up a tent; Eat great food; Swim in a pool looking fabulous; Play games and have a great time; Have fantastic sex with my husband in our tent; Wake up and go for a great breakfast.

What actually happened:

Before leaving, discover that the air mattress Den has is a twin size, not a full. I have a fit.

After getting there I drank mostly lemonade with vodka, hoping that I would get as drunk without getting as sick as with my white russians – but they don’t taste half as good.

Didn’t go swimming at all, since it was too cold.

Mid-way through the night, go to set up the tent. Den says, “Honey, your friend didn’t loan us a tent. It’s a CHAIR!” I walk over to see a chair and think, WTF! I look in the back of the truck and there’s the tent still in the bag. (Later I discovered that he had grabbed BIL’s chair-in-a-bag.) So we got the tent up. But the too-small air mattress? Den couldn’t get it inflated for the life of him. He says it’s fine and puts some blankets down, I sit in the tent and cry. This is not going well.

After my time-out I re-join the party, one of the girls got me water and rubbed my back as I sniffled.

More drinking.

I end up crawling in the tent at some point later in the evening and passing out. Den joins me at some unspecified time later – neither I nor he remember him joining me in the tent.

I wake up at 5am with my hips aching so bad from sleeping on the ground. I ended up waking Den up, packing up all our shit, taking down the tent, and driving home before 6am.

On the good side, the effect of all that vodka+lemonade was only a bad headache that, with the help of some advil, I easily slept off. I woke up feeling great. (Den did not get off so easily.) Unfortunately that means it really is my beloved white russians that make me so effing sick. :(

On the bad side, it appears that the whole drinking-makes-me-have-so-much-fun days are far behind me. I feel like I just have so much sadness in me that drinking just taps into it. I think every time in the past year and a half that I have gotten drunk I end up bawling.

I know a huge part of it is me trying to re-capture the fun we had when we were dating, before we got married. We had some awesome parties, so much fun. There was no grief, no frustrations, no jealousy towards others… we were in love, and that was all we wanted right then. We were happy. I know that every year I try to re-create it those nights, but it never works out. Things are different, beyond what I can ever hope to control.

I just want to be happy again like we were back then.

I have not shaken the anxiety that is creeping around my head. It’s making me grouchy. Not much else to report, really.

Oh, other than the fact that my body is only sorta maybe considering doing some fertile CM, which means ovulation is not happening by CD18, which means I’m going to have to sit around bitching until I ovulate and then until AF, all the while knowing that this is delaying my IVF cycle. I knew this was going to happen, my body is all fucked up.

No ovulation at all. Looks like my body might be considering it, but not right now. Fucker.

On the semi-positive side I mentioned my concern to my acupuncturist, who scheduled me an appointment for next wednesday when I get back from my trip. If I still haven’t ovulated she said she has some herbs that can help things along. And if that fails I’ll be calling the nurses for medication.

Although I have to admit, it’s tempting to consider just taking some progesterone to fake-ovulate like a FET. At this point I’m totally not concerned about catching an egg – if it’s even on the side that has a tube still. I just want to keep things on schedule for my IVF cycle, damnit.

And also, I am so not having a good week. This time the week itself seems fine… it’s me that’s all messed up. Anxiety… way too much anxiety. And for what? I’ve just not been right since Saturday.

Oh! Oh! I’ve been taking some OPKs in the morning, which have shown no progress. The last couple of days I’ve been having CM that trends towards fertile, and I’m leaving for a short vacation tomorrow evening, so I figured oh what the hell, and tested after work. If it isn’t positive it is very nearly so. Yippeee!! Not that I think having sex will ever actually get me pregnant, or that I’m even ovulating on the side that has a tube (though I think I am), but I just want this to get moving now so I can get my period and get started on the next cycle.

Now I’m just hoping my body doesn’t change directions and not follow through.

The magazine I was reading had an essay prompt: when did you feel like you became an adult? My answer came easy: when my child died.

Along the way there have been a lot of times that I have taken little steps forward, overcoming new obstacles, handling situations that I would previously have classified as “adult.” But March 6, 2008 I jumped forward 10 years. I was given no choice, no alternative, I simply had to deal. Death is sobering, death makes you suddenly feel your mortality like a physical weight hanging within, tick-tocking back and forth counting down the days though you can’t see the numbers. Everyone, child and adult alike, will freely admit that someday they will die. But to a child that day seems in another lifetime, certainly not something to concern themselves with now. But an adult is in that lifetime, and knows it. When my child died, so did my sense of security, the feeling that I had my whole life ahead of me. What I had was so fleeting, and taken away before we really understood what we had. To me being an adult means not just living for today, but recognizing that the little things really are little things and life’s journey does not necessarily lead you where you wanted to go. It’s about recognizing and accepting my limits.

::

Yesterday my flights got fucked up. My first flight was over an hour late arriving at the airport, therefore over an hour late taking off with us inside. It was headed to one of the airline’s massive hubs, and almost all of us were scheduled for connecting flights to our destinations. We all missed those connecting flights.

There was a mass of angry people. I don’t blame them for their anger – it was a mechanical, not weather, delay, which means it was solely the responsibility of the airline. I looked around at all these upset people who were snapping at the customer service representatives and bitching about this and that, and smiled at the person on the other side of the counter. I thanked them for their help and observed that it must be a very long, trying day for them. There was woman with a 10 month old baby. That baby swung her legs in her stroller, looked around and smiled broadly at me. I made faces at her and giggled. She and I shared a secret: our forced layover was not a disaster.

I got a free night in a very nice hotel room. I got to sleep on a large, comfy bed, with fresh sheets, all to myself. I had time to take a shower, brush my teeth, change my clothes. I had a free breakfast. I got some time to read a book.

Is it where I wanted to be today? No. But I’m not at work, I’m not cleaning my house. I’m still on vacation, it just changed a little.

One year, when I was dating Den while in college in Canada, I flew out to visit him for Christmas. Being that it was the middle of winter, I ended up getting stranded in Chicago overnight due to a winter storm. Back then I didn’t handle it as gracefully, crying on the phone. I wanted to be with Den, not stuck in Chicago! But, with no alternative, I pulled myself together and got help at the service desk. They helped me find a hotel room (not free, since that time it was not their fault, but I had a credit card and generous parents), directed me to the shuttle bus, rebooked my flight. After making it to the hotel I walked down the street to a macdonalds to get some dinner before heading to bed. Very early in the morning I took the shuttle bus back to the airport to catch my flight. I got off that plane with an incredible sense of accomplishment. Life threw me a curveball, and I caught it. I think that was my first real lesson that things don’t have to go as planned for it to turn out okay. When I look back at that trip I don’t remember frustration or fear. I remember a blissful night and pride.

Yesterday when I learned that I was going to miss my connecting flight I decided to look forward to a nice, peaceful night – my own private getaway. There are too many stressful things in life. This didn’t need to be one of them.

::

Granted after I wrote all of that I got to the airport and found out my flight was cancelled. But there was a new one scheduled for the same time slot so they put me on that. No worries, crisis averted. I sat and read a book until it was time to board.

And then we ended up getting diverted mid-flight to a different airport due to weather. I started laughing when they told us we weren’t landing in St. Louis… I mean, really?? My husband’s exact response after I landed and texted him was “O M F G.” I think that summed it all up. Thankfully it was a very quick stop and we were able to land soon enough, but holy hell man, this was supposed to be a short day of travel… not nearly 24 hours of problems!

::

If you didn’t know, I am visiting Kel for a few days. Woo hoo!

I got a new laptop this week. (This one… with many upgrades. 2.5ghz dual-core processor; 320gb 7200rpm hard drive; 4gb RAM; 512gb GeForce vid card; bluray drive; 16:9 ultra-glossy 1080p screen.) Well, it arrived this week… I ordered it last week, alongside a very hefty panic attack. I am so nervous about big decisions, especially when it comes to spending hefty amounts of money.

It arrived yesterday and I have been tinkering with it. It’s running Vista at the moment, though when the time comes I’ll get a free upgrade to Windows 7. It also has a very different screen than my previous two laptops: they were 14 inch standard screens, this one is a 16 inch ultra-wide screen with high-def resolution. It is a major change, and the main reason I was so anxious. Because of these two major differences, unlike my other new computers I have not started with loading over all of my previous “stuff” and settings exactly as-is. I have so many customized settings in my XP computers it’s a little crazy. Oh, and it’s a different brand than my previous two laptops, so the keyboard is all different. It has a numberpad on the side, too. Compared to my old computers this is just so utterly different… so I tinker.

One thing is for certain: it is a gorgeous, gorgeous laptop – both in looks and in specs. A few of the little things are making me giddy. The screen is glossy, which I know will be a bit hellish in an office environment, but at home where I usually am it is lovely just lovely. The keyboard seems to be treating me well, my fingers are quickly finding their places, and having a full numberpad is such a luxury. This ultra-wide screen allows me to open a large web browser window, see my program icons on the left, and have my messenger open on the right… nothing crowded, everything visible. I really get giddy when I think about doing work in Photoshop with this much landscape. Doing anything on the 1024 res was extremely frustrating. It feels like I just got a huge desk delivered, so I can spread out all my stuff. Glorious, just glorious.

The res being what it is – 1920, in case you’re wondering – the thing that I was most worried about was being able to read text. It’s not aweful, but at the same time I could feel myself leaning towards the screen as I read blogs and forums. Not ideal. I cringe at the thought of changing the screen DPI or in any way messing with the overall layout… but I have discovered that there’s a nifty FireFox add-on that allows you to zoom in – not just increase the text size (which makes things squishy and ruins designs), but blows up the whole page bigger. I’m running at 120% and it seems perfect! This way all the rest of windows is small and unobtrusive, I have a ton of space, and yet everything I read or see in my browser is at a standard, easily readable size. I am freaking thrilled at this solution… I really thought I’d have to choose one or the other.

For all the frustrations that my work and clients can give me, it has allowed me this. I don’t make much, but enough that I can spoil myself with a beautiful new laptop every 4 years. LOL (Yes… I’m a web designer/programmer who survives on one new computer every 4 years. I take very good care of my computers. I have to.)

Oh yes, I think I’m in love.

::

I once was an avid book reader. I spent my high school years buried in books – socially awkward, shy and bored in class, my books were my escape. I was the picture-perfect straight-A student, but I frequently got reprimanded for reading through lectures and discussions. Mostly Fantasy, but I would read almost anything.

I got so busy during college, and I developed some actual social skills. Mainly online, but still – given the choice I would rather spend my time interacting with people than lost in a book. I couldn’t seem to devote the time that my books required of me. Somewhere in between school, moving, getting married and becoming an adult I stopped reading altogether. I’ve been worried about this ever since. Did I just lose the desire, the interest? Did I lose some capability? Or was it just not who I was anymore?

While stuck in Washington, DC during my travels I spent a long time at the gift shop, hovering over the books, evaluating, and finally settled on one. I read most of it on the plane, and finished it the next night when I should have been sleeping. Then I bought another book, and read half of that on the return flight. Today I went to the book store and bought three more books from the series.

I can’t say that the series is the best I’ve ever read. It’s good, it’s satisfying. But there’s a lot more to it than that, I realized. I want to read. Suddenly I realized: here is the timesink I’ve been searching for… a way to hide away from the world and all its frustrations, to occupy and distract my mind while I sit around waiting. I read while my flight was delayed out on the tarmac; I should read while my life is delayed.

I think a big part of my aversion to reading these past few years is that I was so busy on the other things in my life… I didn’t want to miss out on things because of my books. And I would have. Reading to me is an addiction… once I start I tend not to stop. I ignore everything around me. I get very angry at interruptions, I forget to eat, and I don’t go to sleep until my eyesight gets too blurry. On one hand I have to try to curb that… but on the other, I’m not so sure I mind an obsession like that right now.

I lead a full life. This is not something I could have said at many times along the way, but right now it is full. I try to fill it with the happy things, the good things… and for the most part I succeed. I may not be blissfully happy, but at least I accomplish something.

My little brother keeps coming to me looking for advice. He doesn’t come right out and ask what he should do, but I can tell he’s searching for something, for some kind of brilliant knowledge or truth, something to make his way clear. Sometimes I can’t bring myself to tell him that I still haven’t figured things out yet, that I am still lost, too. Even though I’ve been through the stage he’s at – the dating, living-at-home, struggling-with-friendships stage, I still look back on it bewildered, knowing no more how to navigate it than I did when I was in the middle of it. All I do know is that later things just don’t seem as important as they did, decisions don’t seem so huge. Of course it doesn’t – the decision’s already been made, you already know how it all falls out. There is an anxiety about being stuck in the middle, of not knowing how things turn out, that is almost debilitating at times. Oh yes, I wish I had the magic answers for him. But I just don’t.

I see in my brother a younger, male version me – overly critical to a fault, overly analytical to the point of paralysis. Too often I make the mistake of assuming he is different, unknowable… and then he says something that makes me realize he’s more like me than either of us know. He shows it differently. He has always put on the confident, don’t-give-a-damn facade, whereas I was always the quiet, petrified one. I lost myself in my tears and anguish, and he loses himself in anger and frustration. But it all comes from the same place… a place of fear, anxiety and self-doubt.

I have started to find a place of confidence… a center, a calmness. I think is is due to my medication, my loving husband, lovely friends, and experience. I wish I wouldn’t get knocked off it so frequently – lately it has certainly not been easy – but it is there. I hold on tight and feel thankful. I wish I could give my brother that… but I know that only time and experience will help. So I wait beside him, my hand on his shoulder, and try to help him navigate his way.

::

Yesterday the boys were out, so SIL and I took BabyH to the park. She had great fun climbing up and down the stairs on the little kids playground and sliding down the slide with us. I had such fun with her. The sun was hot and it was exhausting, sure, but it is just so fun to watch her play and laugh and figure new things out.

I’ve honestly never been quite sure of myself around kids. They just feel like little aliens to me… I don’t understand what they say, what they need, what they want. Even Kel’s boys, whom I am sort of an Auntie to, I just am not around them very much at all. I found myself looking around in alarm more than once, asking if Danny making that noise is normal or did he want something, and is Eric supposed to be playing with that? Then I came home to BabyH and realized that I get her. I know what she eats, I know that she hates to be picked up, I know what her grunts mean, I know what her favorite toys are. I feel completely at home looking after her, playing with her. And she knows me. Her big smile when she sees me, her shrieking laughter as I chase her on the floor, her little fist wrapped around my fingers as she trusts me to help her up the stairs… they melt my heart.

I wondered, when she was born, how I was going to navigate it. I wanted to desperately to be a mother, to love this child, to be an important part of her life, but she was not mine. I had lost mine, and she was someone else’s. Sometimes it felt like the only way I could handle that was to pull back entirely and give myself some breathing room. But now I realize I have figured it out: I am the Auntie. She is not mine, but she is still a piece of my heart, I am a part of her life. I am so thankful that I was able to build this relationship with her.

I look at BabyH and feel such pride and joy… and then I wonder how it will feel with my own. The thought cuts… and yet the hope makes it a little bit joyful, too. One day I will experience it for myself.

At my acupuncture appointment today she asked where I was in my cycle, and I told her that I am pretty sure that I ovulated last weekend. She asked if I’d done any homework. I threw my mind back to last appointment, was there something she had asked me to think about or look up? “What kind of homework?” I asked tentatively. She leaned forward in a conspiratorial way, “Sex?” Oh, right. Yes.

The first half of my appointment was an interesting attempted at meditation. My mind was running in all directions – nothing in particular, just restless. It’s rather hard to sink into a sleep state when every few seconds your five-year-old subconscious self is poking around asking, “Am I asleep now? How about now? … Now?” I kept opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling fan above my head, roll my eyes, and silently mutter to myself. The murmured sounds from the lobby seemed very loud, every little knock and voice had me twitching. I resigned myself to spending an hour just laying there, thinking of a million things at once. But, regardless, I breathed in and out, relaxed, and let my body sink into the pillowy table.

My right ear yet again had a warm, almost-buzzing feeling again – but this time it wasn’t distracting, it was more centering. It was like my nerves were saying, “Here, focus on this.” I layed there and wondered what those little needles were doing. Were they really sending a message to my uterus? Is anything in there shifting a molecule to the left, just enough to do something? I don’t think I really believe that it is – though if I show up pregnant this month I will be a FULL believer in acupuncture. But for now I take it as a lesson in meditation and mindfulness.

Somehow the second half of my appointment passed much more quickly than the first, and I opened my eyes to the acupuncturist coming in and removing the needles. I must have drifted off once again. I like how I feel when I leave. The place is full of potted plants in the rooms, the bathroom, and all over the outside of the little house are more plants. It’s very homey, very organic feeling. Peaceful.

I wish the rest of life could feel more like that.

I’ve been keeping an eye on my CM, and while it has looked non-fertile for the past week I’ve gotten some almost-fertile CM in the last day. So this morning I do a quick check and… wait, what is that? YES! It is AF!! Den made a sad face when I told him, but really, did I actually think I would get pregnant on an off-cycle? Hahahah no.

No what this means is that IVF#5 is officially ON. Starting the BCP tonight.