Leavin' on a jet plane

This time tomorrow I will be arriving in Florida (pending no travel delays).

By noon I plan to be by the pool, and by 6pm dining at one of my favorite restaurants (preferably with a mojito or two).

Here's to getting out of Dodge to focus on the people that I love dearly, and leaving behind negativity (I think I got my emotions out with yesterday's post).

There will be no vacation blogging. Just a week to re-energize.

See you all on the flip side in September.

Inside out and left behind

So its been awhile since I talked about infertility stuff. Why? I don't know. It's just a monkey on your back always there, weighing you down. Sometimes you get so tired of paying attention to it.

Sometimes you just want it to let go for awhile.

I've been trying to take a break from my obsession while I wait out the obligatory two cycles since my loss last month.

I'm waiting (patiently) for AF to arrive.... any day now. Then one more protected cycle until my first foray into the "hoochie coochie science lab". That's what S. and I are calling it. We can't be trusted to not make light of a very intense and important situation.

It's that old adage, if I didn't laugh about it, I'd cry.

So, as I been healing from this latest loss, I seem to have become a magnet for pregnant women. Most notably, in my workplace. It seems that fertility does not have to be in the water for a team of people who work together. I work with a couple dozen women (men too, but we are not counting them right now) and on my immediate team, three are expecting. We are in three countries, and 4 time zones, but somehow pregnancy comes in waves far from the office water cooler.

I bring this up because one co-worker was pregnant the same time I was (she went on to have a lovely girl, and I had my first loss). She is pregnant again, with #2 and #3. While I wish her nothing but happiness, inside I feel broken.

The thought occurred to me that not only am I being lapped, but lapped twice over.

This is one of the most stinging realities of infertility/RPL. Other people are adding to or completing their families, and here I am.

Left behind.

I do a pretty good job of staying positive. All things considered.

It's in the quiet moments at night when I worry and stew. Will this work? Should I keep going? What the hell is wrong with me??? How could I have produced one little person of perfection and NOW can't stay pregnant anymore? What did I do to deserve this? Is this a message I clearly do not want to hear? Am I doomed to fail, over and over and over?

Unfortunately, my obsession with my cycle, peeing on my FM sticks and OPKs, waiting the 2WW, and monitoring symptoms has evolved to an even worse habit... losing faith.

I am more crazed with baby lust than ever. But as the years creep forward, I wonder when S. and I will decide how much more we can take.

And the irony?????

Because I have been a textbook patient in the past, normal cycles, getting pregnant on my own, (albeit not on the most stellar schedule) I did not need to seek the help of a Reproductive Endocrinologist until earlier this year (after loss #2 when I got nervous that something really was wrong).

So, here I am JUST getting into the 'big guns' if you will. Three cycles of injections and IUI coming up, and then, IVF looming on the horizon.

And I am already tired.

I know so many of you who have been at this for YEARS, and here I am, feeling desolate and worn out in only two. AND I HAVEN'T EVEN got into the technical part of infertility treatment.

I truly don't know how you all do it (you are much stronger than me).

I feel like faith will end up being the only thing that will keep me going, but how in the world do you restore faith when you are handed such crappy cards?

This is the only place I allow myself feel sorry for me. Because in real life (outside of bloggityville) people expect so much more from me. I am usually the person OTHER people go to for help. I am the nuturing one. The shoulder to lean on. The listening ear. The fixer.

And in this situation, I find myself needing someone to fill that for me. But others don't see that. They just think I am plugging along on my own just fine.

And I am certainly not fine by a longshot.

Boy, do I need this vacation.

Vacation: all I ever wanted

So, the BagMomma family is leaving for vacation this Friday to visit the House of the Mouse. Disneyworld.

Florida in the summer, are you clinically insane? ...Yep, I know what you are thinking.

Actually, we do have a timeshare (Disney Vacation Club), but we are paying our way on this trip because it's really cheap.

Cheap? Disney is not cheap. ...Yea, I see you rolling your eyes.

Au contraire, Disney is very cheap over Labor Day weekend. In fact, it's one if the best times (crowd-wise) to go to Disney.

And my company, offered this week package for a ridiculously low price which includes hotel and park tickets.

So we couldn't resist. We are even bringing the Grandparents (my Mom and Dad) to join in the merriment.

We pretty much go every year on the timeshare, but we used our point allotment for our Hilton Head, SC trip back in May... so we are taking a second vacation this year (unusual for us, but damn do I need it).

I'm sure David will have a ball. He's now at the perfect age to grasp the entire Disney-experience.

So if you happen to also be in Mouse territory next week, and you see a bunch of computer looking geeks there, it's the vacation week for the 'Big Blue' employees.

I however, AM NOT bringing my laptop.

no way, no how.

You'll find me with my family screaming like silly children on the Rockin' Rollercoaster. Or drinking the super-size beers at Germany in Epcot.

As my Dad would say, 24 hours of non-stop fun!

David and Daddy, c. 2006

Freaks Invade the City of Brotherly Love

Does it feel like it's been a loooong time since we last talked about American Idol?

American Idol is in my hometown today. Yes people, the hometown of our very own Justin Guarini (didn't he break out with a stellar career? ooops, that was Kelly Clarkson.) As we speak, masses of young people are at the Wachovia Center in Philly. Three times the crowd they've seen in the other audition cities.

They have camped out for days, and now face a 10 hour wait (AFTER registration) to get 10 SECONDS in front of a preliminary judge (Paula, Randy, and Simon don't hit town until next week, when they whittle down to the 'best' contestants). 'Best' being described loosely...

What can you judge in ten seconds? Ten seconds is nothing... which I guess is why they end up seeing so many people dressed in costumes like chickens and drag queens. How else can you make an impression in ten seconds??

I am betting that the cheesteak joints in South Philly are doing a brisk business right now. Nothing like warming up the vocals with a cheesesteak wiz wit.

Sorry, out of towners... translation: cheesesteak with cheese wiz and fried onions.

Yummmy. I haven't had a cheesesteak in ages from Geno's or Pat's.

Must. Make. Trip. For. Carbs. and. Fat.

Good luck Idols, have fun in our fine city!

Experiencing Technical Difficulties

The problem with dealing in the high-tech world we live in is the ability for it to come crushing down when one component malfunctions.

I had issues with my cable this week, which led to the arrival of network provider man on Tuesday (resolved) and now, the death of my router which runs my VoIP protocol for my office phone.

I spent yesterday, crossed legs on the floor of my office doing some good old-fashioned troubleshooting. My conclusion was that the TA (telephone adapter, aka router) was malfunctioning.

My phone and peripherals are paid for by my company. I say "paid for" because that's about the extent of it. You'd think that with a company of 400,000 employees they would have a Help Desk for home office employees, but no.

Either you have the technical prowess to DIY or you don't. In my case, I would categorize myself as "above average" in the area of technical ability, but sometimes, a home network with servers, routers becomes far too difficult to maintain if it isn't your day job.

And I really don't think my company will spring for my own personal tech support.

But I digress...

So I call the internet phone provider thinking that all I will need to do is report the router is bad. Send me another one!

oooooh no... not so fast grasshopper....

I called tech support at 9:30am to find my wait time is estimated at 25 minutes. Are you kidding me?

Actually no, my wait time turns out to be 40 minutes.

I'm connected with support, and the lovely Brigette comes to my aid. I give her my info, she says, "what's the problem", and I step by step take her though it. After my one minute explanation, Brigette is stumped. Then, as I hear her typing away, I realize she is READING FROM A SCRIPT. Then, she asks me to repeat my problem again. and again. and again.

"Brigette, can you please transfer me to your Level 2 person?"

And she's on it.... well, sorta. She can't figure out how to transfer me to Janice, her #2 person.

Ten minutes later, I am explaining the situation (again) to Janice. Janice seems nice enough, but is also stumped. She asks me what I think the problem is.

I said, "IT'S the router!!!!" I did say it nicely, and I didn't even shout it, even though my brain was telling me to.

"Hmmmm, I think I'll just send you a new router."

Thanks Janice. I already told you that.

So, the net-net of this story is I went thru TWO people only to diagnose the problem myself, and have the techs repeat it back to me.

I won't name the provider, because this scenario scares me. I wonder how many people they manage to actually "help" in a days work.

I should be charging them for my service. sigh.

Shades of yellow

I have been inspired by Mel, over at Stirrup Queens to participate in what may end up being an eye opening ongoing exercise for me.... recognizing happiness, understanding how it plays into my everyday life, recognizing that happiness can co-exist with emotions that aren't very happy.

No, I am not experiencing a Dr. Phil moment.

Well, maybe I am. All I know is I read Mel's first post about this topic and it hit me on the head that my background "color" to my life for the last couple of years HAS been shades of grey. Fleeting moments of happiness painted over a colorless, grey background. How can I alter that background so that happiness is the major undercurrent in my life and the stressful events end up as the blips on the radar (not the other way around).

Mel's question:
What is happiness? As in, what is your definition of happiness?

Happiness to me are the little things in the course of a day that bring me great joy. Driving my car with the windows down and a cool breeze wafting though my hair. A quiet moment in the corner of the house sitting in my chair watching a candle flicker. Watching my son dance and sing and twirl. Anything that stirs the emotion of peace and serenity.

So my challenge over the next 30 days is to find it.

Oh, pshaw, I know what you are thinking. Shelli, you have lost your ever-lovin mind. On the contrary my dears.

Challenge One is establishing a Ritual Break. Choosing a ritual to incorporate in my day that will make me happy.

Sooooooo....

I hereby do declare that I will keep my favorite scented candle in my office (next to my desk) and light it at some point during each work day. Why? Because glancing at the burning candle and breathing in its sweet scent makes me deliriously happy.

Well, how about that, I just lit my first candle. Kinda nice to see it in my office as opposed to my fireplace mantel.

If you want to join in this experiment, click on the links I provided above and blog about it. Considering my mood has been pretty dark lately, I am hoping that this might be a little life-changing idea. At the very least, to paint a little yellow on those grey walls of mine.

Thank you Mel, for thinking up this exercise.

I heart carbs

After I dropped off David at daycare for his field trip today (he's going to a gymnastics class) I promptly drove to Dunkin Donuts for my usual coffee. Today I got a bagel (I've been trying to lay off the morning bagel habit) and I was sad to discover it wasn't what I ordered.

Bleh.

It's certainly a message from above to STOP BUYING BAGELS.

I am in this constant state of war with carbs. They are my mortal enemy. But instead of going on some wacky low carb diet (which I would NEVER be good at since carbs are my life) I decided to just try to cut down on them. Have a yogurt instead of a bagel for breakfast. Skip the superfluous rolls and bread for lunch and dinner.

Sleeping with the enemy, that's really what it is.

Last night, I made dinner for the BagMomma house. Parmesan-crusted chicken with two veggies (neither of them potatoes). S. says... "where's the stuffing?" I say, "we are not having stuffing."

S. looked at me with the look of perplexed fear. "why?"

"Because carbs are killing us."

And you know what? After dinner I had a peach for a snack and when I woke up this morning my stomach was grumbling like it hadn't had a speck of food in days.

I was HUNGRY. Which led me to the state I am in this morning.

Annoyed because my bagel was cinnamon-raisin and I wanted Sesame, gosh darn it.

Offending bagel was 86'ed in the trash. I drank a yogurt smoothie and had another peach.

.....Till we meet again CARB......

probably at lunch.

A year in a blog

Last August, I started this blog with no purpose other than to vent to myself. I didn't care if anyone read it. It was just a place for me to go and unwind.

I was just another working Mom with an expensive hobby (handbags, remember? - I seemed to have strayed from that lately...lol).

I thought I had nothing to share with the blogosphere. Nothing unique about me. Just another blogger to enter the fray.

In August of 2006, I was just getting back into TTC after my first loss. I was cautious, but hopeful. I was naive. Little did I know the path I was about to walk on. The kind of path that takes you along to experience the ultimate joys and the pits of despair (sometimes even in the same day).

At some point in the last year, my blog went from happy and lighthearted to cold and broken. And back to lighthearted, and then broken. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Also over the last year, people started to read my blog. A few, and then a handful, and then many. I thought, "why do people come here? are they just being nice, or really like my blog?"

And all of a sudden it hit me that anyone could find my blog and I would be exposed. Will they think I am a selfish person? shallow? After all, this started out as a venture to keep ME sane, not worrying about who I might offend in a post, what things I should or should not talk about, or pictures I should or shouldn't post.

And then, a curious thing happened.

I started meeting women like me. Working Moms. Work at Home Moms. Women experiencing Secondary Infertility. Women experiencing Primary Infertility. Humanity. People I just like because they seem like friends I would have outside the Internet.

People like you, my readers. Many of you have blogs I frequent each day. My Google Reader is filled with almost 150 blogs I like to read. Stories I follow. Life moments. Hints from the trenches. Crazy people who make me laugh when I need it most. Plain ole' fun.

The sanity I am looking for has now developed in two unexpected ways:
Me putting my thoughts to the keyboard, and you responding.

And to my surprise, I ended up with a circle of blogging friends that I look forward to interacting with each day. So whether you are a regular reader, an IRL friend, an acquaintance or a mere passerby I thank you for stopping here in my world if even for a moment. Your comments make me realize I am truly connecting in a way I never imagined.

So as I meet the first anniversary of BagMomma I find I'm in the middle of a blogging split personality it seems. Is this still the blog I started? Have I alienated some of my readers now that much of my content is heavily weighted in IF? Should I start another blog just talking about my infertility?

And, the answer that came to mind in short order is.... no.

Here I am.

BagMomma, Shelli, IF Flunkie, whatever.... this blog is me. Right now, expanding into another blog would be like diluting myself. And staying true to my original intentions, you will get the best and worst of BagMomma.

So expect a myriad of topics in the next year. I'll be blogging about work, balancing life with a child, family, and my upcoming IF treatments. I may even get back to talking fashion and bags. And I promise never to lose my sense of humor. Because you already expect that from me.

Here's to another year... of sharing and hope.

~xo~

Google me this

I find it odd when I look into how people find my blog. Sometimes it's a mention or a link from another fellow blog. Sometimes, it's a blog search on secondary infertility or WAHM.

But by far I enjoy the random Googlers, and to them I dedicate this post. Here are my favorites from the last two weeks:

To the person that found me via the search term, "Ice Road Hookers"... I am not a hooker, and if you knew me, the last place I would be found is in the cold and ice. I am, however, a fan of the TV show, "Ice Road Truckers"..... for the suspense aspect, and not the dirty truckers.

"Does Mr. Softee have a bathroom?" Wow. I never thought of that. I assume you were thinking about the driver and not looking for a public bathroom for yourself. You know what, thinking about getting my Ice Cream steps away from a potential bathroom has kinda grossed me out now. Thanks for that.

"three breasts and boobs" yeah, I got just two, what's it to ya? You're scaring me.

"can you get influenza in the summer?" um, yes. Trust me, you can.

and my personal favorite "cheap fun in the office".... The fun in the office part had me thinking where you were going with that, but the part that troubles me is that you want it cheap. And then I thought about it some more and decided I have no flippin' idea. Except to say that BagMomma and cheap probably would never appear in the same sentence together. I'm just sayin'.....

Fevers and regrets

Who says the flu should keep you from blogging?

I'm actually feeling a bit better today, after last night trying to fight down my 104.5 fever. Suffice to say that I spent most of the night in the shower or under a cold, wet towel.

Note to self: showers hurt like hell when you have a raging fever.

My fever hasn't registered over 101 today (yet). I did a little work this morning, but promptly logged off the work laptop at 11am for the day.

I am just about to crawl into bed. But before I do....

did anyone see "The View" this week? Joan Rivers was guest hosting, and Barbara Walters asked the panel "what is/was your biggest regret in life?"

A pretty heavy question. Of course, Joy made a joke. And Elizabeth begged off the question with some wishy washy Mom answer, "I regret little things in a day, like I should have done this or that... but I am a Mom... so busy..." blah, blah... (I bet her answer really was she wish she didn't have the smackdown with Rosie, but just my opinion). Elizabeth, I am sure you have a deeper regret than showing up late to an appointment. Plueeze.....

Anyhoo, Joan Rivers (who I love, don't laugh) got all serious and said,"I wished I would have had another child."

Barbara, who has a daughter, nodded in agreement, and exclaimed the same regret. That knowing look on their face, I've seen it. I teared up. I don't usually get weepy watching The View.

It stung. All I could think of is fast forwarding 20 or 30 years (when I'm pushing 60-70) and thinking those words may come out of my mouth too.

Followed by ".... I tried, I really, really, tried".

So I asked myself, what is my big regret? And the answer was no surprise.... I waited too long to have children.

Because in my perfect world, I would love to have three. At least, I always visualized that.

And now, having two may end up as a miracle, if the stars and moon align.

What's your biggest regret?

Sick and Sicker

I am sick. I felt great yesterday morning. At lunchtime I started getting body aches and that scratchy feeling in my throat. By midnight I was in full-on sickness mode.

You name the symptom, I have it today. Headache, stomach upset, throat on fire, vomiting, chills, ears hurt. I can barely walk my muscles ache so bad.

Called the Dr. 30 minutes ago and BEGGED them to get me in this morning. I have a 10am appt.

What is it, the flu? It sure feels like it. Can you get the flu in the Summer??

I need meds, and fast. I am hosting a breast cancer benefit on Sunday, and I can't afford to be sick.

Sickness gods, please have mercy on me!

UPDATE 8/16: yep, flu. sigh.....

David goes to the Dentist

Well, bless his heart. My little man had his first official teeth cleaning at the Dentist yesterday, and he was as well-behaved as a boy could be.

He picked out a pair of sunglasses from the bin to protect him from the bright light of the lamp. And then, proceeded to ask what each tool was on the hygenist's (MJ) table, and what flavor toothpaste he was getting. He's a man that wants to be prepared.

When MJ asked him to OPEN WIDE he opened his mouth so wide I was sure he cracked his jaw. He even spit into the sink with no drippage on his bib (I can't even do that!)

True to my word, I took him to the toy store for his "army men" he's been wanting to buy, then we ate lunch at the mall.

"Mommy, I am a big boy.... there's nothing I can't do".

Indeed.

This growing up thing has to slow down. I miss having a baby around here.

Wigglytastic!

Note regarding this post: S. forbid me to put his picture in a Wiggles post. So, because of this unfortunate event, I decided to "unveil" the mystery that is BagMomma. Scroll to the end, and be rewarded. lol. or not.

David had a blast at the Wiggles concert yesterday.

Prior to the event, he tortured Mommy and Daddy... because pre-show wiggly protocol calls for creative crafting. Like the Rocky Horror Picture Show (and if you've been to this movie, you get a gold star for.....being old like me), true Wiggles fans bring props.

Not toast, you Rocky Horror fans.... bones for Wags the Dog and Roses for Dorothy the Dinosaur.

David was prepared: Then, when we got to the concert, we bought the Wiggly accessories... a t-shirt and a feather sword.

We were in the 3rd row, close enough to see the new Wiggle get a little winded singing "Hot Potato". And, David was most excited when Murray Wiggle collected the crafty bone for Wags. He's not saying NO! Please no more bones! He's waving to David.

oh, it was a blast... nothing more splendid than seeing an arena full of parents singing "Fruit Salad" and the ever popular "Rock-a-bye Bear". Oh wait, you are not impressed??? What about the simultaneous Elvis move while Sam and Murray Wiggle played guitar? Darn, you missed it. You missed the Wiggle car too! You feel bad, no?

Long live the Wiggles.

Mommy and David heart Jeff, Anthony, Murray, and Sam

Weekend ahead!

aaaaahh, it's Friday!

Thanks to all your comments on my post yesterday. I'm glad to know there are many of you that hate to dust too (and envious for those of you that do it well!)

So, what's on the agenda this weekend?

We are taking it easy. On Sunday.... David is going to his 2nd Wiggles concert. I thought he'd be growing out of the Wiggles by now, but he's still addicted to the songs. Should be a fun day.

And, on Monday.... his first official Dentist appointment. I say "official" since he has been there with S. and I getting acclimated to the dental hygienist and the atmosphere. Monday he is getting his very own teeth cleaning. Afterwards, we are going to the Mall. Primarily, because we need a few things for our vacation at the end of the month (we are going to Disney World). But also, I promised David a new toy if he behaves at the Dentist's office.

Nothing like bribery, eh?

Hope you all have a great weekend, and are doing something fun or relaxing!

Confess! Do you.......?

Dust?

You know, dust with your feather duster, your Swiffer, your old t-shirt...

do you dust your house?

Be HONEST. I really want to know.

Because I can't think of anything I would choose to do less, than, say, iron (I hate ironing too).

My Mom dusts. Of course, she dusts less now that she doesn't have to be a role model to my brother and I since we moved out from home long, long ago. She was never like the lady you used to see on those commercials that would run her finger down your baseboards. Heaven forbid. She was a casual duster.

I am the "only dust when I have to" duster. I just don't think of it as important. I'd rather have clean clothes and a clean bathroom than worry about the inch of dust on top of my bureau.

Sure, I dust when I see it (and it looks bad). I dust the TV and computer stuff often actually because they are magnets for that black dust.

I dusted after I had my basement and office finished. I HAD to. That sheet rock dust was everywhere. I think I scrubbed every inch of the place.

But, dusting is not a priority for me. Never will be.

So, confess...... do you dust? How often? What is your tool of choice?

It's okay if you make me feel bad. I can take it.

Witless Wednesday

I have no ponderings or life realizations to share with you today.

Therefore, I leave you with this:


So if you are heading to Japan anytime soon, please consider bringing your own bottled water. Just a heads up. ;-)

Moving on... finally

Well, the news from the RE front is good today. My last u/s for failed pregnancy #4 is in the books.... and happy to report one completely empty uterus.

I never thought I'd be happy with a report like that, but honestly, I finally feel the weight lifted off my shoulders.

I am free to move on.

And moving on we are. In late Sept./early October we will initiate injectibles cycle #1 with IUI. Setting up the protocol now, and determining what my health insurance will or will not pay for. It will be expensive either way, but at least I'll know what to expect.

I do love my RE. He is the first doctor I've had that takes the time to sit down with me and talk. We both sighed relief looking at the u/s monitor today. Then we sat down in the conference room and I got out my list of questions, and he answered all of them completely.

I was concerned that we missed some diagnostics, but it appears we did not (at least anything he and I know of). We looked at everything from my work up a couple months back... immune and blood clotting panel, thyroid, FSH, E2... and so on. He even wrote down my results with the normal ranges for me to keep.

The irony is that everything looked great. I hadn't even seen the last of my Day 3 tests... my FSH was 7.2 and E2 was 33 back in April. Normal.

The treatment is simple... get pregnant faster and not waste any more time. I will be 40 in February, and let's face it, I am in the sunset of my reproductive years.

We are waiting on a redo of S.'s blood karyotype... (the lab lost the results from April), but assuming that is okay then we have only two likely scenarios for my repeated losses:

1 - chromosomal abnormalities
2 - bad luck

There's those words again. BAD. LUCK.

Oh how I hate that.

The goodness in bad luck however, is that it can turn to GOOD LUCK on a dime. And that's what we are hoping for.

I am in this for the long haul... so luck, we are waiting on you....

Overheard at the BagMomma house

Subtitled: the decline of society in middle America and its effects on small children.

BACKGROUND

Our local news aired a segment last week regarding a story about drugs being sold from a Mr. Softee truck in Philadelphia. For those of you who aren't from the New York/Philly area, Mr. Softee is our version of the Good Humor Ice Cream truck. They are independently-owned ice cream trucks that troll the family neighborhoods selling frozen treats (not illicit drugs, lol). My son heard this newscast but we didn't talk about it. In fact, I thought he wasn't even paying attention to the TV. Fast forward to yesterday....

David: "I didn't get any Mr. Softee this weekend!"

S.: "We probably missed him when we were out, don't worry, he'll be back sometime this week with your chocolate ice cream."

David: "Nuh uh, Daddy. Mr. Softee is too busy selling drugs to bring my ice cream."


Oh my......What to say

The joys of summer

Last night, S. was "recalibrating" the sprinklers. In other words, sitting on the front step watching his grass grow.

David, also, watching the grass grow.... decided he wanted to test out the velocity of the water spraying out of each sprinkler.

He ended up running, rolling, and laughing in the grass. Soaking wet from head to toe.

aaahhhh, to be young again.....

Hello Doom? It's Gloom

If you knew me IRL outside of this blog, and someone asked you what kind of person I am, you would likely say that Shelli is a positive person. Anytime I am met with road blocks or negativity, I find a way around it and end up usually smiling in the end.

I've always been a person that embraces the concept of karma and if I put positive energy out into the world, positive energy will come back tenfold. This is the rule I live by, and for 39 years, it served me well.

If you are a regular reader, you'll remember I proclaimed 2006 "the bad luck" year. I started 2007 with hope abound. I think I actually said 2007 would be "my" year. Of course, looking back 2007 is turning out to be the most challenging year I have ever had thus far. In my personal life, my work life, my relationships, finances.

So, I slipped into a somewhat negative state in the last couple months. I admit it. I've been that person I used to hate most.... playing the tiny violin.... shouting at the Gods, "why meeeeeeee?"....

EXPECTING bad luck.

So what has happened since? More bad luck. It's as if the golden touch I once had is now turning everything to dust.

I said to S. about a month ago, I want to have a new front door installed. The door (builders grade from 7 years ago) is warped. I want to redo our master bath.... the shower and sink are already cracked (again, shitty builders grade materials). I want to landscape the patio we installed 4 years ago. So many home improvements, and no money to do them.

Then, the unexpected medical bills are starting to pile up from my infertility drama and the 16 or so ultrasounds, three surgeries, and endless lab work.

I joked with S. about two weeks ago, saying everything will probably start to break now... the appliances for instance. Again, we have cheap new builders grade appliances, and at 7 years of age, they are starting to wear.

So last night, I prepare a fancy chicken breast dinner. I preheat the oven. I beat out the chicken breasts, and lovingly made a handmade sauce. I put the chicken in the oven. I made a fresh cauliflower casserole. I put that in the oven. Set the timer for 35 minutes.

Timer goes off, oven is cold. So I end up throwing the chicken on the grill and decide to nuke the cauliflower. Micro doesn't work.

yeah, that figures.

I cry to hubby... and he gets frustrated. We don't want to buy new appliances yet, so we call appliance repair guy. I figure if the cost comes to more than 250-300 dollars, I'll have to just suck it up and buy a new stove and microwave.

Work has been unbearable. I actually considered talking to my manager about a leave of absence. I have been telling myself that work will resolve itself, that it will get better. I am frustrated, feeling ineffective. Taking my personal stress out of the equation, I am realizing that I hate my role at work. Even if life was rosy, work would still be dragging me down like an anchor.

It's like the world is sending me a message. What is the message? Is there a message?

Every day I try to focus on the positive, but I swear I am currently a magnet for misfortune.

And I don't like it.

It's just not me.