Cover, and reduce to simmer

I've gone from a full boil to a sizzle this morning regarding yesterday's news. I just can't believe this is really happening this way. The reason I am concerned, is, frankly, I just want to be like every other woman who suffers a miscarriage. I want my numbers to return to zero, get AF, and move on.

I get so tired being in the unlucky 1%. Having more than three m/c's after a "live born", having no answers regarding my infertile state, having a failed D&E, having this hCG saga, it's just too much for a person to take.

"When do you reach your personal breaking point?" I was asked this question by my family physician on Tuesday when I went in for this strep throat illness. She mentioned that having the flu and strep all in a months time has as much to do with stress as the germs lurking in David's pre-K class. Then, we sat for 40 minutes talking about what's been going on with me. She nodded, offered suggestions, and gave me lots of analogies.

And then, she said, "Life is not a sprint, Shelli, its a marathon."
"If you continue in sprint mode, you will almost surely run out of steam, physically and emotionally."

And she's right. I am a micro-manager, an organizer, a perfectionist with a warped sense of order. I can manage the healthcare I receive, but there is so much out of my circle of control (oh man, I'm goin' Dr. Phil on y'all now) that by spinning and spinning WHO KNOWS how that affects my body physically.

And how many times have I blogged about my Dad's cancer, and the irony, and his best friend dying of the same cancer, and the good that was spawned from it?
I wrote the words and didn't listen to the words.

I am so driven to my goal, I am just plowing down everything in my way. A one-track mind, as my Dad would say. Ignoring the important things like... taking care of myself, being with my family ("connecting" with them, not off in space thinking how many days since the m/c), staying in touch with my friends, being PRESENT in my life (crap, now I've gone Oprah on you too).

Well, you get the drift.

So here's the thing. If my beta is still high on Monday, I am not dumb, I already know what's coming. Drugs, like Meth.o.trex.ate likely (there are other drugs, but if I post them here I am sure to get spammed). The concern is microscopic placental cells can go all nuclear and crap and can easily transform into abnormal cells. Abnormal=bad. hCG increasing means they are getting unruly. If it increases more, the chemo effect in the drug will eradicate those sons of biotches.

So let's think happy thoughts. Like lab error from yesterday. Or, my body is just toying with me and the number will be zero on Monday.

A girl can dream. I can be in the 99% right?

Whatever the outcome, hubby and I agreed that we should start thinking of Plan B and Plan C. While I am sure we are still going to try a round or two of injectibles and IVF, we also are warming back up to the idea of adoption that we've been kicking around.

Either way, come February when I turn 40, my time clock won't stop.

No sense sprinting towards it.

It will come, and it will pass, and whatever I will be doing, I can only guarantee that it will be far away from today.

rock bottom is not far enough

Ugh.

My beta is going THE WRONG WAY.

It went up. Up as in bad. Up as in, we need a consult, something is wrong.

You think?

For my optimistic readers, no this does not mean I am pregnant. I already Googled likely scenarios, and they are not pretty. I have another blood draw on Monday and a consult thereafter.

This sucks!!

Moms Speak Up!

IzzyMom has recently started a new blog, Moms Speak Up. Moms Speak Up is collaborative blog of writers posting about the environment, dangerous imports, food safety, toy recalls, education, health care, and lots of other topics guaranteed to be HOT topics.

Yours truly (that would be me) is a new contributor to this site. So, please go forth! and check it out.

And while you are there, check out my first article, "Give a Cow This Year" regarding unique charitable giving.

Just when you thought you hit rock bottom

THUMP! That's me. I'm as low as low can get.

Why? In addition to the misery of the last few weeks? months? year? I am now a contagious carrier for strep throat!

Oh yes... so not only is it possible to have the flu in the summer, it's also possible to have strep throat a mere 4 weeks later. If you are counting, that's the third major illness since my ill-fated pregnancy in May.

And the irony? My son does not have it (I am glad about that). BUT, I was going thru my stack of papers/bills today, and I saw that there was a notice sent out LAST FRIDAY that several children in his class had strep throat.

In other words, David carried it home to Mommy.

Way to go there little man. Go ahead, kick Mommy when she's down~!

The upside? Well, there isn't one. Except to say I didn't know a person was allowed to ingest 4-6 Advils in one dose until yesterday. It's the only thing that takes the edge off of my blistering, sandpapery, about to explode, throat.

My liver might shut down, but my throat won't close up. Peachy, eh?

That's it. I'm ready to start blaming specific people for all of my problems. I need to spread the grief around, 'cause this is just too damn tiring.

Who's up first???

The flip side

Celebrities lead lives so foreign to most of us. Most of the time we sit back and read the gossip mags and websites and imagine how easy they have it. Money, beauty, power.... all things in one package.

I'll be the first to admit, lately, when I hear of a pregnant celeb, I automatically think it must have been so easy for them. Why wouldn't it be? Their lives (on the surface) seems to shine perfection 24/7.

And who in the celebrity world ISN'T pregnant nowadays? Notice the celebs who get the most exposure? The young ladies (especially the under 21 crowd), and the older ladies (by OLDER, I mean MY AGE bracket.... 37-43). Because being young and pregnant or old and knocked up is news.

From their airbrushed feet to their noses. Sheer perfection.

Addicted to drugs, history of drug abuse? For some reason, the fertility gods love addicts. Poof! Pregnant.

Unattached, single, on the prowl? An OOPS baby? Oh, they love them too.

And they go on to have healthy pregnancies. And we marvel at the publicity shots (in which EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. shows said celeb on the red carpet holding their gigantic tummy. Which makes a woman like me shake my head in disgust and fist in the skies....proclaiming.... WHY? WHY?

Ok, not that overly dramatic, but you get the idea.

To be realistic, it's doubtful that the gods favor celebrities over me. At least I hope they don't. (even though my own personal track record is troubling as of late).

But we never hear the flip side of the perfect life of a celeb. The power entertainment shows and magazines won't report on it... because there's nothing flashy about infertility treatment and the highs and lows. Why, it's practically a snoozefest for them.

Which is why I am sharing an article with you that I stumbled on over the weekend.

Taking the Long Way Home is the story about the different roads taken by each of the members of the band The Dixie Chicks to become moms. One easy, two not very easy at all. Finally, celebs willing to admit that they are just like us.

Broken internal plumbing, warts, and all.

No airbrushing allowed.

One step forward, two steps back

I didn't blog about this last week because, frankly, my patience is starting to wear thin.

I had another beta last Wednesday, and it was 18 (down from 23 the previous week, and 30 before that). So, it's going down, but not as fast enough as I would like.

I am approaching week 10 since the miscarriage, and I am just all out of steam with this topic.

I had another blood draw this morning. Its become a comical event when the staff at my RE's office sees me. A mixed bag of joking about how unlucky I am and condolences for my f'd up situation.

I sat in the car this morning and cried. I haven't cried like that since I found out in June that this would be my 4th loss.

Having miscarriage after miscarriage is hard enough. Being on the sidelines because my body won't return to normal is just as bad.

Time is just tick, tick, ticking away.

I just want to move on.


Update: Today's number is 15 :-( I spoke to the doctor, and since the number is trending down on a consistent basis (be it ever so slow) there will not be any sort of heroic measures to force it down faster (i.e. another d&c or meds). Time is all I have.... more on next steps (extra steps unfortunately) in another post.

Kitchen Smackdown

Get you minds out of the gutter. lol.

In one corner, a dead garbage disposal. In the other, hubby.

Weapons permitted: Wrench , Hammer, and Flashlight.

The battle begins.

Garbage disposal is the most recent kitchen appliance to go haywire in the BagMomma house (following the Microwave death, Refrigerator melt down, and Stove incident in the last month).

Hubby turns on the switch. Garbage Disposal hums, then dies. All is silent.

Hubby presses the reset button. Garbage disposal is mocking him and only makes a faint humming sound. Take that!!

Hubby grabs his weapons from his tool box. Garbage disposal is nervous as hubby gives it the stare down.

Hubby uses wrench and hammer to knock sense into flywheel of garbage disposal.

Garbage disposal grinds with glee..... "I'm free!"

Hubby is victorious.

And I am grateful I don't have to call appliance repair man for the 4th time this month.

So goes another evening in the BagMomma house.

p.s. for those of you who have been following my kitchen appliance meltdown tally, the only appliance which has not needed repair in the last thirty days is the dishwasher.

My conclusion: new appliances which are now cheaply made within the confines of the Asian continent have a lifespan of EXACTLY 7 years. Be warned.

Shiver me timbers...!

It's International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

And in honor of my little pirate, David.... A hearty "arrrrrrggggggh!" to you all.

Brimming with Positivity

Oh, the world can be so negative sometimes. We are constantly bombarded with negative news and images all day long via our connected world.

What happened to the good news?

What a nice surprise to stumble on something that focuses on the positive. Gimundo is a relatively new website that posts news that is uplifting, fun, and kid-friendly. The founders started this venture over dinner pondering what ever happened to the good news.... and decided to do something about it. Kudos!

In the last month I've read stories about everyday heroes, cute stories about animals, POSITIVE current events, foods that LOWER the risk of cancer, and even some cool ideas to bring a little 'green' to the BagMomma house (green as in conservation).

Check out this recent story about real life superheros. Very cool. I think I've been inspired.

aaaaah, take a deep breath.

Definitely an upgrade from my usual afternoon CNN break. Sorry Wolf Blitzer.

V.ery I.mportant P.urchase

I did end up going to the Coach store on Sunday. You knew I would.

I just couldn't keep myself away with that invitation staring at me.

That and Holly Marie, or was it Marie Holly, or Marileah? called me on Saturday and left a desperate message on my voicemail that I MISSED the VIP reception (heavens!), and if I stop by this week they will honor all the goodies I missed.

It's nice to be loved by someone. Even if it's a commisioned Coach employee who could give a crap about me.

Wait, I pay for Coach to love me... that's so wrong isn't it?????

....anyhoo, S. wanted to take a ride since it was such a beatuiful and cool day here in the Northeast. So, we all jumped in the car and somehow ended up at the Yankee Candle store (good Fall scents there btw), and then Starbucks, and then Coach.

I bought a Fall purse:

And I got a free gift and perfume.

Damn you, Coach.

I wish I could quit you.

Baby, we were born to run

David has been exercising his freedom lately.

Our neighbor has a little boy 2 years older than David. David is completely enamored with Patrick. Reason is, he's older (6), and he therefore hangs with older kids.

Now let me explain. David acts like an 18 year old in a four year old body. He doesn't want to hang out with the little kids. Little kids bore him. He is an explorer. An independent. I don't know where he got that trait from, certainly not from me or S.

BIG kids can go all the way around the block. They can ride a bike. They can go farther than the 'two house limit'. (David knows he is supposed to stay on the sidewalk, and in a two house radius on either side.) He knows this rule, but as most four year olds do, he challenges the rule every chance he gets.

So last night, he was playing with Patrick while I was watering my flowers. I walk in the house to fill up the watering can. TWO minutes after I told him 'stay where I can see you' he disappears down the street following the big kids, of course.

I walk out to the sidewalk. I look both ways.

He is nowhere in sight.

I see a little girl on a bike (whose name I forgot), and asked her if she saw David and Patrick.

"Yeah, he's with Patrick on the other side of the block".

The other side?????

Immediately I go into search and punish mode. My heart is pounding. I called for S., and we took off around the block (our block is pretty big, we call it a block but it's really like 3-4 blocks in a loop). Along the way we were asking the little/big kids,where David is. Each one responding.... up the street! That way!

How did he get that far so fast?

We circle the entire block, and just as we turn the corner to see our house in sight....we spot David and his two friends sitting on the sidewalk in front of our house. Safe. While we were walking one way, he had already ran around the whole loop and came back the opposite way.

After thanking Patrick for watching David and staying with him, I ask David why he broke the rules. "But I was with the big kids, they were watching me"... and I lecture him about the fact that big kids are not adults, and they don't have responsibility to watch him.

To which he says, "well, Mommy, you can come with me when we play" and his two friends (6 year olds) look at me with that "OMG, she's a MOM!!!! I can't believe you said that!!" look..

S. sends David in the house. He's pissed.

Just as soon as I walked away from the kids I felt bad for embarrassing him in front of his friends. What is the protocol for this? I don't want to look like maniac Mom, but I don't make the rules for fun.

And as S. and I stand in the house we quickly realize that this is just the beginning....

....of letting him go.

We can't keep him under our wings 24/7, nor should we. We are unprepared for the first step beyond our house, daycare, Grandma and Pop Pop's house... the "ultra-supervised environment" we are used to, and I am feeling a bit uneasy.

The world out there is a big place.

I wish he was still little, like this.

When the flowers grew bigger than him and and the world was too big to even think of walking down the driveway.

When the block seemed like a million miles from Mommy.

p.s. I am still enforcing the two house rule punk.

Friday funk, I said FUNK people!

Well, thank goodness this week is drawing to a close. Work was insane this week (I did get through all of those e-mails btw), and now I am winding down my day.

I am also waiting for Nurse T to call me with my hcG blood draw results from this AM. Since it's only been 48 hours since the last one, I'm not holding out much hope that it's a lot lower. I'd love for her to say ZERO! but you and I know that would never be the case in my wildest dreams. I'll settle for anything less than 30.

Husband S. hasn't been able to sit on the patio yet. He managed to develop a sinus infection (again) and he's sick. Which sucks all the way around for me since I become handmaiden for the little guy and my 'big' little guy in the evenings. It's a tough job but somebody has to do it.

And, of course we can't leave out talking about last night's episode of Big Brother. What a letdown! Just give those two the money, why bother with the finale? And the bigger question, WHY did I invest 72 days watching this show? why? why? why? And, who to vote to win? I have to say ED, because he looked like a sad little wet puppy standing on that carrot for 7 hours and losing the first competition. In reality, you KNOW dude was just dying for a cigarette. That is one fierce chain smoker. And if his daughter won, well, I'm not convinced she would even share that money with him.

Lastly, I opened my mail today and read that I was invited to the super-secret-positively-awesome VIP party at the Coach store (25% off and freebies at the store). While normally I yell like a silly schoolgirl when I get my invites twice a year, my heart is not in handbags today. Shudder the thought, but it's true. It's not that I need a handbag, well, ok.... I really don't.... but I never miss it, and today.... well, I am missing it.

So carry on, people, and enjoy your weekend. Think AF thoughts for me, will ya

Update: hcG=23.... well, I guess I'll take what I can get. Next draw will be Wednesday.

Surely you jest...

I had a friend in high school who used to love to say, "The truest things are said in jest". I guess it was kind of a personal motto for her, but like most teens, we picked up on the phrase and converted the word "jest" to stand for just about anything we could think of, because it was a funny word. Yes, "jest" was really a funny word in the 80's. Keep laughing.

It morphed into....."Surely you jest".... and we would say it anytime the phrase "you've got to be kidding" or "are you serious" or "I can't believe it" was called for.

I thought of this phrase when nurse T called me from my RE's office yesterday.

Now, I haven't been blogging much about my fertility status because I am in the worst rut. My miscarriage was 7 weeks ago, and STILL have not entered into my next cycle. Not even a whisper of AF, that bitch.

I feel like this summer has been all about the worst failed pregnancy in history.

So, anyway, feeling desperate, I called the RE on Tuesday because something just isn't right. These last 7 weeks, my symptoms hardly changed. They dulled, but were still there. I still feel pg for pete's sake.

After all of my previous miscarriages, I got AF 4 weeks later... give or take a day here or there. My HcG would drop like a lead sinker and AF would arrive in her glory.

But then again, I reminded myself that this was the exception to the rule of miscarriages. Let's not forget my failed D&E, which led to my having to wait 6 EXCRUCIATING weeks for the natural miscarriage. Which was heinous in every way imaginable.

So I went in yesterday for an HcG check. And, Nurse T called me back (interrupting a riveting conversation with my Australian co-workers) and gave me the news.

My HcG is STILL registering at 30.

Surely you jest....!

Well, I guess that explains what's going on. Sorta.

They want me back on Friday for a repeat beta. And another next week. Basically they intend to follow the number down until AF arrives, or I lose my mind.

or, if the number doesn't trend downward.... well, that's a discussion for another day.

Nurse T was as perky as could be, lamenting that "Shelli, you've been though so much, I am so sorry this is drawing out so long".

I'm still trying to forgive her for what she said when I answered the phone. "I have the results of your pregnancy test."

Pregnancy TEST? Are you flippin kidding me?????

I know she didn't mean it that way... but still.

sigh

An oasis for hubby

My dear beloved husband is turning 40 in two weeks. He's been pretty stern about not wanting to make a big deal out of his birthday. I am obliging, especially since I want the same low key atmosphere when my 40th comes around next year.

It's not that we care about turning forty. Well, we do a little.

It's a milestone that seemed so far off for so many years.

And here we are. 10 years to 50 (now THAT's scary!). and after that 10 more till I get my AARP card. bwahahaha...

I stink at gifts for S.

We pretty much buy what we want anyway, so it seems illogical to go out and buy something he won't wear or use. So I thought, how about something different.

So let me back up a little...

Husband of mine has a very stressful job. He has customers that beat up on him on a daily basis. When he comes home, he would optimally like to run up to the bedroom and hide under the covers and forget about work.

At the end of his workday, he drives though rush hour traffic to pick up David from school, then he turns around and goes back the other way (in the same traffic) to get home. Upon getting home, he is usually beat... physically and emotionally. He grabs a soda and sits in the recliner (HIS recliner! I have one too) and decompresses.

With David running about and shouting at his ninja turtles and throwing crackers and Legos at the dog, and the dog barking, and me trying to cook dinner and finish up my work in my office, and the phone ringing- well, you get the idea.

It's not very tranquil in the house.

Hubby had dreamed of having a quiet oasis in the backyard. A place to relax and kick back with some nice scenery.

Five years back, my Dad and my brother installed a patio (EP Henry Pavers), but it was square and plain. Nothing to look at, just grey rocks and moss growing inbetween them. No trees, no bushes, no flowers, no character.....nothing.

We had all intentions of landscaping the backyard. We just had a jillion excuses. It's too much work, it's too hot, what kind of trees and bushes, when will we have time to do it, who wants to haul dirt around, I might break a nail, etc.

Last month I threw away the excuses and asked my Dad to throw us a referral for a landscaper. I knew there was NO WAY we were going to EVER landscape it on our own. I decided to hire someone and get this monkey off my back for good.

I didn't tell S. until the crew was scheduled. When we came home from Florida last week, we pulled into our driveway, unloaded the suitcases, and found 3 men in our backyard digging.

SURPRISE!

And they finished Monday. They added a fancy step-off the patio and planted bushes, flowers, and trees!!! and it looks sooooooooo nice.




I finally have given my dear S. the quiet place he always wanted. ~xo~

I remember

Another anniversary of the day the nation stood still. I posted my reflections last year. The years have passed so quickly.

And, on an even sadder note, Amy Wilhoite has lost her battle with leukemia yesterday. I didn't know Amy outside of her blog, but followed her story along with her husband Brandon and sweet little boy Gary. And, without question, I know Amy is now free from pain and has been welcomed to the heavens with the greatest of celebration.

Greetings and Salutations!

I had almost decided to title this post "BagMomma's Back Biotch!" because I was so inspired by Britney Spears dramatic performance on the VMA's last night.

Please tell me you saw that washed-up trainwreck.

I happened to pop over just in time while I was also watching Big Brother (take that Evel and Daniele!) and I was completely horrified at the first sight of the back of Britney's head and those REALLY bad hair extensions.

Thank goodness I could then turn off the TV (I'm not into the MTV awards, I just wanted to see the crash and burn).

But anyway, HEY! I am back from a restful vacation. If you call 'restful' walking 10 miles a day in 93 degrees and 100% humidity.

I did get that mojito I wanted, and a few margaritas to boot. It actually was a nice getaway, and I can't tell you how much David LOVED this trip. Sort of like a non-stop sugar high all week. Rides, characters, swimming... he was 24/7 fun and the party member of the BagMomma Bunch.

My company sponsored a "pirate dinner and party" in Epcot and David was HOWLING he had so much fun. We danced and sang and it was THE BEST event I ever went to in my life. Thank you Big Blue.

We had to BUY an extra bag to pack David's souvenirs and bring them home.

Anyway, I am going to do a wrap-up post later about vacation. Unfortunately, today is my first day back to work. I have 620 new e-mails.

That's 77.5 I need to read every hour today.

Glad to be back.

I think.