Today I floated on a pool and bathed in sunshine. This has not been a warm, sunny summer – just yesterday rain was pouring miserably while I was at work. But today the sun was out, and I took advantage.

I love the sun. I have to wear a ridiculously high SPF sunscreen to keep myself non-lobster-esque, so in the height of summer I tend to avoid the direct sunlight, but oh does it feel glorious after all the rain and overcast gloominess. I needed it. My skin and soul soaked it up, warmth I need to keep myself whole.

I love the water, too, which is why I prefer to sunbathe while floating, parts of my skin still submerged in the water. The feeling of my fingers drifting through the cool water, the gentle rise and fall as I ride the ripples sent out from the movements of others, it just brings me back to my home. I practically grew up in a boat – my dad bought our first one shortly after I was born. We stored all the life vests in the bow, tucked underneath against the fiberglass sides of the hull. I would always crawl in there as a child, curl up on my little nest of life vests, listening to the sound of water swooshing against the sides of the boat. My mom would look at me a little green, asking how on earth I could handle being totally enclosed like that, unable to see. But it was my version of a rocking chair. No matter what boat we were in – the canoe, the aluminum car-topper, or later the bayliner ski boat, I was always found curling up in the bow, my safe place.

Today BabyH splashed and swam with SIL in one end of the pool. The sun warmed my face as the water cooled my hands and feet. I closed my eyes, breathed deep, and for a little while nothing at all really mattered.

The nurse is putting my calendar in the mail for me. They’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Start lupron next week, overlap with the pill, get my period, start stims sometime around the 20th. Retrieval will be the first week of September… I’m aiming for around September 1st. Den has to work the weekend prior, and it’s a major deal that he can’t miss, so I have to make sure that retrieval won’t be any earlier than the 31st.

All summer – actually, all year – I have been listening to people saying how time is going too fast, how it’s another month gone by. Everyone else seems disgusted that it’s August already. I just smile inwardly. I like watching the time tick down to our next cycle, our next opportunity. One day hopefully I’ll want time to slow down… but right now I am very happy to keep it hurtling forward.

One month until retrieval.

Working definitely has its ups and downs. Hopefully more ups than downs, but the last week has given me a serious headache.

I had actually applied for a position at a location closer to my house – much closer, in fact, cutting an hour of commuting out of my day. I wasn’t entirely sure it would turn out being the best decision for me, but I weighed the pros and cons and decided to at least put in for the transfer and see where life took me. Yesterday I found out I didn’t get the transfer. I certainly felt the sting of rejection, they selected someone else instead of me. That hurt. But my coworkers gave me hugs and said, “I’m sorry… but glad we get to keep you.” Today I looked around at the teasing going on around me, the comfortable chit-chat, and realized I felt relieved that I didn’t get the other job. It can be stressful and certainly has its struggles, but I am happy where I am. The people I work with really understand me… they ask about IVF and cheer me on, and they accept and understand Devin and what he is in my life. Also since my coworker lost her baby it is sometimes comforting to talk to her about our losses.

Not saying I couldn’t find this kind of connection elsewhere… but maybe right now I’m right where I need to be.

And also, the birth control pill freaking hates me. Or my body hates it.

I ended up at the doctor’s office last week. I was spending a quiet Monday at home, writing and working and feeling very lovely in the quietness of my house while the husband is at work. Unfortunately as the morning progressed my belly started hurting. It wouldn’t have bothered me, except for how similar it felt to the ectopic. Low, below my belly button. I was just sitting there, thinking fuck. What the hell is this?. So I ended up going in for a quick scan, mind racing ahead to cysts and canceled cycles. Thankfully this time I was wrong. There was nothing wrong with my ovaries or tubes or uterus… everything looked perfectly normal. Just some “bubbles” in my intestines which were probably causing the pain and pressure. Lovely. A trip in just to be told it’s gas.

That started soon after I started the pill, and unfortunately I have felt bloated and bleh ever since. The last two days I have had breakthrough bleeding – yay for panty liners (can’t I EVER get away from the damn things?!). Plus – and I can’t say for certain that the pill is to blame for this one – I am emotional and sensitive and not a very good roommate for the dear hubby.

I know the bloating and rawwrrr-factor is only going to get worse with lupron and stims, but ugh. I hate the damn pill.

I am bleeding heavier today. I am mid-cycle. I am on the birth control pill. I looked back at my notes from my previous few cycles and found that every cycle on the pill I have bled off and on through pretty much the whole damn thing. Lovely. So I called the nurses just to let them know that it was happening, in case it affected anything with the cycle or if they wanted me to switch pills or something. Thankfully she told me that it’s pretty normal for bleeding during pill cycles when your body isn’t used to being on it (which my body of course isn’t, seeing how I spend one cycle on, one cycle off, repeat), and that it won’t affect the cycle at all…. only my (dis)comfort level. Which, okay, is rather irritating… I don’t think I will ever be able to not wear panty liners ever again, I’m either bleeding, leaking progesterone, or producing ridiculous amounts of CM. And the bloaty shit is just plain annoying, I didn’t expect bloating until starting stims. But I’ll deal with it, as long as it doesn’t fuck up the cycle!

I got my paperwork in the mail today. I am having to make some adjustments to the timing, just to ensure that retrieval doesn’t fall on the two days that Den has his big thing at work, but here’s what it’s looking like:
Start Lupron on Aug 11 (this coming Tuesday!)
Last BCP Aug 14 (one week from today)
Expect AF Aug 18
Start Stims around Aug 20
Estimated Trigger Aug 30
Estimated Retrieval Sept 1
Estimated Blast Transfer Sept 6
Estimated Beta Sept 15

To be perfectly honest I don’t even know what I’m feeling about this cycle. A little bit of hope, anxiety, frustration, excitement, fear, relief…. all of it tumbled together. I definitely feel happy that we’re getting another chance at this, but every cycle that goes by I get a little bit more frantic, a little bit more hope lost. I was going to say desperate, but I actually think the desperation has faded somewhat from what I felt in the first year after Devin died… that was pure adrenaline-run desperation, a monster inside clawing at the walls, sobbing Give it back, give it back. Now it’s faded into a heavy ache… just a woman, arms around herself, with barely the strength to keep whispering, Please…

I was having a hard time with anxiety last week… not the kind of anxiety brought on by work or cycle planning, but just random general anxiety. I mentioned it to my acupuncturist on Monday, and when she placed some needles she said it should help with the anxiety. I didn’t think about it after that, until I realized today that I haven’t felt that kind of random, sourceless anxiety at all this week. Nice. Next time I’m struggling with something I’ll have to mention it to her.

Remember how I mentioned how sweet my Zoe was as a little puppy? Well the other day I saw this picture on i has a hot dog (sister site to i can has cheeseburger) and was struck by a huge wave of puppy fever. Know how people get baby fever after they have a kid and swear they’ll never do it again, or not for a long time? Well my baby fever never goes away, but that’s what happens with me and puppy fever. I am suddenly weepy-eyed at the memory of a little fuzz-butt asleep on my lap, sweet, soft little puppy fur under my hands, tiny little muzzle on a tiny little head and a little round belly. Oh my god, puppies are the best thing ever. I mean, just look at that picture! The little nose, the sable fur, the little tiny white tip on the skinny little tail. And the paws! Oh my god, the paws. I could nibble on them they are so sweet. OhmygodIwantapuppy.

And then I start thinking about puppy accidents and how Zoe chewed through three different laptop cables and the enormous vet bills we already deal with (just for yearly check-ups!) and the fur… plus I’m working full time now (which I wasn’t, back when I got miss Zoe), and hell I fell guilty for ignoring our four as it is. And if we do get pregnant soon, and we have a new baby with a less than year old dog? Okay. So maybe getting a puppy isn’t in the cards right now. Besides, they never stay that small and sweet for very long.

We actually took our two dogs to the park today. To a picnic. Where there were other people. And food. I admit, we don’t frequently take them out of the house – it’s just a lot of work. Zeeke, our shepherd, gets sick in the car no matter where we go. Zoe gets anxiety attacks around strangers. That means before you even get to do anything you’re automatically dealing with two dogs with diarrhea. And then Zeeke has like way too much energy for his (admittedly large) body and he tends to do a lot of pacing, whining, barking, dragging, and trying to jump on people (which we do not allow, just so you know). Zoe, again with the panic attacks, slinks along behind your legs if you’re lucky. If you’re not lucky she will attempt to bolt, which is typically unsuccessful due to the whole attached-to-a-leash thing, so instead she ends up hitting the end and yanking your arm out of your socket. Maybe she will find some small crevice to crawl into. Like under a chair. Or behind a garbage can. Then you get the people walking up to her saying, “Oh what a GORGEOUS dog!” and all we can say in return is, “Please don’t touch her!” Not out of concern for them, but out of concern that she will soil herself. And she has long fur back there – just sayin’.

So keep all of that in mind when I say that we took them both to a picnic in a public, busy park. And then I’ll say: it went really, really well. They did both panic on the car ride there, but that’s unavoidable. We took them for a walk around the park to help Zeeke get some of that energy out. But then he got to meet some people. Kids always point and squeal at him, saying, “Doggy!” – and often, “BIG doggy!” The intelligent parents ask first if it’s alright if he is petted. I was really impressed with the kids today, though – no one ran up to us, and all of them – even the little toddlers – were really gentle. Zeeke gave some hand kisses and received pets. Den just held him still so he wouldn’t move quickly and knock the poor kids over. Most of them were pretty intimidated by him (he’s 95lbs and TALL). But they all walked away with a big grin, as if they’d just conquered a quest. And Zeeke just sat there, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. At one point when Zeeke saw his daddy coming back from the bathroom – Zeeke had his eyes fixed on Den, recognizing him from a very good distance away, and jumped to his feet in joy as Den got closer. A little toddler, walking with her parents, pointed and just shrieked with laughter. It was too funny! Then she came over to pet the doggy and was enthralled.

Zoe of course was quite thrilled that Zeeke got all the attention – I’m not sure everyone even noticed we had a second dog with us. She very very quietly would just slink behind Den’s legs when someone walked over, and then just sit still in hopes that she would be overlooked. With Zeeke as the frontrunner it’s easy enough to distract people from her. It made it easier for me, who typically has to run interference between rambunctious kids and my poor, terrified dog. Today people were really respectful and just appreciated her with their eyes, recognizing her need for personal space. And Zoe in turn did really quiet well, even approaching a couple of people to sniff pants before retreating behind our legs again. When we walked around the park her tail was up, trotting comfortably beside Zeeke. I was thrilled to see it. Maybe in the past three years she has made more progress than I thought.

We did have to eat standing up, because the last thing we wanted was to get Zeeke too close to all the people eating at the tables… we had visions of him jumping up to help himself and causing mass chaos. As it was he nearly swiped a hamburger from Den’s hand when his attention was elsewhere. Next time we’ll have to remember to bring some chairs so we can sit – it felt like we were being aloof by standing apart… but a necessity.

The ride home was uncharacteristically quiet. No whimpering or whining from the backseat. In fact, Zeeke layed down for most of the half-hour drive, an unprecedented move on his part. Den and I were quite drained as well, especially since I had worked this morning before the picnic, as is typical for my Saturday. When we got home all four of us passed out.

I’d say it was a very successful day. We’ll have to try it more often.

I am hungry, but the kitchen pantry and fridge is pretty much empty – and what is left requires cooking. On a day like this standing in front of the stove is not a favorable prospect. So I ate an eggo muffintop. Still heated, but not requiring much time in the kitchen. (But still hungry. I think I need to buy some groceries.)

We went to the waterpark today. I have lived here full time since 2005 and part-time since 2002…. and yet this is the first time I have been to the waterpark at Six Flags. It was a great day! You really can’t get better than rides and water at the same time. The only disappointment was that I wanted more water time… too much time spent standing in the sun waiting in line.

Which leads me to… sunscreen. Works great. It takes me from oh-my-god-crispy down to pink-will-definitely-get-more-freckles. Except… I forgot the back of my knees. Ohhhh yeah. I am laying in bed in the air conditioned bedroom and I can feel the sheets against the back of my legs rather like sandpaper. This is going to take a little while to recover. Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize and hope I don’t peel.

This was, of course, the first really hot day all year. Perfect day for the water park, other than the “everyone else has the same idea” thing. I had hoped that the threat of thunderstorms would keep people at home, but apparently everyone else is optimistic like I am. (And rightly so – it was a fucking gorgeous day. Hot, as we discovered when we left the water park. Water is a beautiful, beautiful thing.)

Oh yeah, and I start lupron tomorrow. Hopefully my mood does not get worse – I am not sure husband can handle worse than the fly-off-the-handle drama queen that I have been lately.

I’ve realized that all my life I’ve been making the mistake of planning for the future based entirely off of the present’s wants/needs. It’s really quite arrogant, thinking that I know what my future self will want in 2 years, 5 years, 10 years…. but I constantly let that image of the future dictate my choices now. It can be something as mundane as furniture placement to bigger life decisions like a career. Yes, I get frustrated by how I should lay things out based on furniture that i do not yet own, nor will I own for quite some time. Yesterday I had a little laugh at myself and realized what an idiotic thing that one was… especially since we can move furniture. And do I really think that I’m not going to want to move things around in 5 years anyways?

I realize that a lot of people have problems focusing too much on the short-term and do not plan well. I am not one of those people. I am so far-sighted I constantly trip over my feet. I have to continually remind myself to let go. The question shouldn’t be what will I want in 10 years… the question is, what will work best right now? Let’s just deal with today’s problems as they come. It’s a lot easier to handle that way, rather than trying to take on the whole entire big picture at the same time.

I need to do more things that just simply make me happy.

::

First lupron shot is complete. In my head I have been very quietly counting down to this day, this first injection. Yet when it came I layed in bed, staring at the clock, knowing it was time… and there was a hesitation to get up, to walk over there. I’m just taking it one day at a time. The IVF cycle still seems a good distance away. I’m not sure I’m ready yet to admit that it’s here. At the same time, though, there has been enough waiting.

Den and I have separate savings accounts for those little (or big) things one of us wants but other thinks is totally not necessary. Earlier this year Den bought a stainless still grill, and he finally just saved up enough to buy his holy grail: a 50″ plasma TV. I, on the other hand, have spent my money on the fancy new front door (which still is not installed yet) and I just bought myself a rocking recliner for the living room. Different priorities, anyone? We had a good giggle over that. But I am getting a rocking chair – and I’m getting my living room TV back. And Den isn’t complaining.

I am getting excited for our weekend away that is upcoming. I haven’t booked anything yet, though I’m going to very soon. I really really need some time away with just my husband. We’re going to a little historic town on the shore, staying at a B&B and just relaxing.

Lupron has been started, and I am actively working on not thinking about how soon this cycle is coming up. I know it is, but I just let the thoughts slide around the sides of my conscious awareness. And frankly even giving myself shots don’t warrant much attention on my part, after I’m done I look down in surprise and wonder if I did it correctly – my fingers just seem to do it by themselves. Alcohol, push air, draw up, flick flick, stabbity, done. Of course the lupron is the easy part – once we get to the three vials of menopur in one injection I’m going to need Den to do it while I scrunch up my face. Menopur stings, if you didn’t know.

Oh, and I joined the YMCA. I am hoping that this time I actually use it. But this time I have a car, and a reason to be out of the house in the first place, so the chance of me using it is much higher. I need to sign me up for a class ASAP. A little extra reason to show up is never a bad thing.

I struggle to find words…. no. I struggle to find communicable thoughts. So much of my life right now is mundane, every day just worried about getting through, getting through, getting through. Just the same thing, the same thoughts, the same frustrations, over and over, day after day. And every day I breathe a sigh of relief that I’ve lived through another one and somehow found something worthwhile in it. It is not splendid, it is not amazing, it is not wonderful – but every day I find something small to be proud of, or happy for, and I cling to those little things, swinging from day to day like I used to do on the bars, long ago. My palms always burned back then. I had calluses back then, very hard and thick for how small and dainty I was. I didn’t mind them so much. It meant I could swing better, with less pain – they were my cushion. It’s not so different now.

All this to say, I have nothing new to say. Nothing of note, nothing of interest. I went swimming. I made it through a work day without a major mistake. I talked and laughed with coworkers. I gave myself another lupron injection. It all sounds so simple, and I’ve done them each many times before. Does it really need discussing? I’d rather write about fabulous vacations and amazing epiphanies, but that’s not my life right now. It’s just day to day. Just getting through. Even starting another IVF starts to sound mundane on the fifth attempt.

Just like people don’t say that they are brushing their teeth, or eating breakfast, or putting on their shoes, neither do I say that I am grieving. Of course I am grieving. I do it every day. My heart beats faster when someone reads a book to their child and says, “Look, a sheepie!” I see children at my job every day. Sometimes I smile and chat, sometimes I pretend I don’t see them. Either way I’m functional. People probably just write me off as one of those women who doesn’t have kids, who isn’t interested. I don’t correct them.

I’m not quite sure how building my own life – separate from and not dependent on a child – is so damn difficult, and yet so lacking in words.