Mixed Bag-Momma

My flowers... are beautiful in the backyard this year.

I had a dream last night that I was in my old fertility clinic. I rushed there after a call from my doctor, who exclaimed that I needed to come see a friend and her newborn. When I got there, I was handed a dark-haired baby with porcelain skin and blue eyes. Her Mom's name was Trish (not anyone I've ever seen), and she wanted to give me her baby. The feeling I had.... was so real I woke up and started at the ceiling with tears in my eyes.

What a way to start the day. Good thing I am visiting Dr. Anne tomorrow.

So, we've been busy around our house lately. Enrolled the boy in Karate last week. Or shall I say, "mixed martial arts" because "The Master" said it was, and who am I to argue against a black belt? heh. Anyway, we chose this activity very carefully. Long story short (and for another post) David's school recommended Karate to help David with his shyness/anxiety. We sat with him and just watched a few classes last week, then David started participating this week. After a rocky first 10 minutes, he was smiling and taking direction like he had been there for months. Way to go, my boy! Very pleased with the instructor so far. His values are on point with what we teach David at home, and if anything I hope that David starts to build his confidence and gets in some physical activity. We'll see how it goes.

Another milestone this weekend, David "graduated" in the world of cub scouts. He was a Tiger Scout until Sunday... now a Wolf Scout. He just loves scouts. I am dreading the end of August, however. He will be in karate, starting soccer season, AND a new year of scouts. I don't know how those of you with many kids manage all that scheduling. We may need to evaluate and adjust in the Fall.

And, me? I am hanging in. Started to walk on a regular basis again which is helping with the cobwebs on my soul. A lot inward thinking going on.

And I want an iPad. Any of you guys have one yet? Do you like it? Advantages/disadvantages? Is it pretty much like my iPad Touch, just bigger?

Seven

Last night was the eve of the last day of being six years old. As I put the little guy to bed, he said...

"Mommy, I am going to miss being six years old."

Me too, my love....

Me too.

Happy 7th Birthday David.   xoxoxo

Six going on Sixteen

My son has a teensy crush on Taylor Swift. Which is cute for a six (almost) 7 year old.

Note to family and friends:  David is asking for Taylor Swift pencils for his birthday.

Heck, I may even have a crush on Taylor Swift (in a I-wish-I-had-a-daughter kind of way). It's nice to know that there are some celebrities that aren't wading knee-deep in the "look at me, I am so much more important! and relevant! than you!" stage.... ala Heidi Montag, who, while no longer a teen has somehow reinvented herself into a Frankenstein'ish 40 year old.  Scary.

Note to older adult David:  This is not the girl you want to marry.

Did she realize she looked younger BEFORE the plastic surgery??

Anyway, certain milestones such as "crushes on teen queens" phase reminds me that my little guy is not so little anymore.

As evidenced by his pants size. At the beginning of the school year, I hemmed his uniform pants which were too long (then). Now? Just 7 months later, he has grown at least an inch and a half. Which means I have more hemming in my future. I should also mention that I never even knew how to hem until the last two years. Domesticated, I am not. The only reason I self taught myself is sheer laziness... if I knew a tailor I would pay to have it done.

Do you remember this picture?

One of my favorites. I want to say he was maybe 18 months here- sitting with Daddy on his new motorcycle.

Now?

If you are a Facebook friend, you saw that I posted a picture of S. giving David his first "real" ride on the Harley last weekend.

What a difference 5 years makes...

Something old, something new

This is really starting isn't it? It's hard to fathom, with all the stops and starts that I am really, truly starting my DE cycle. I have my first appointment Wednesday morning for a base u/s, injection "training" (lol, like I NEED that... I'm a flippin' expert by now), consents, and the holy-cripes-there-goes-my-bank-account payment for my cycle.

I'm nervous. So much can go wrong. This is worse than cycling by myself. How do I chase the bad thoughts from my head? I really want to focus on the positive.
...

Today was David's first day at his summer camp program (run by his old school he went to for preschool and pre-K). He's going just a few days a week... mostly to have fun (swimming, field trips, crafts, etc)... but also to keep all the knowledge he gained in Kindergarten front and center.
He was uber-excited to go today... talking about it all weekend and in the car on the way there. When we got there he met his old teachers who just love him to death, and a few kids returning for the summer. It was all going so well until I hugged him to leave...

He buried his head between my hip and elbow, and started to weep. I felt so bad!! But I know that this is the age that separation anxiety is at a peak. I specifically picked this program because I knew it wouldn't be a huge stress on him (being comfortable with the teacher and some of the kids), but there's no escaping a six year old that's tough on the outside and a mommy's boy on the inside.

I'm sure he's fine. I'll pick him up today and I'm know he'll have a bazillion stories to tell me and will already have forgotten about the morning.

I sooooo remember this feeling he's having. I was like that at his age too.

Six. On the verge of conquering the world, and yet still wanting to be little and led by the hand.
...

Last point-

Did you enter my drawing for the DNA testing kit from 23andMe? If you didn't, sorry... too late to win a free one, but there's a nifty deal for purchasing one. If you did enter, pop over here. I announced the winner!

Off the hook

Don't stuff your face...
Face your stuff.

When I walked into W.eight Wat.chers in mid January I heard this phrase as part of the first meeting, and it was something that stunned me. Trust me when I tell you, it's hard to be stunned at WW meetings.
How profound is that simple statement?

For those of us who have ever had an eating problem (or addiction of any sort), this is the root of it really. Emotions make us do whacked-out things.

Over the years, I have taken an introspective approach to my addiction of choice... food. I know why I am overweight. I know what it takes to lose weight. I just choose to do it or not do it.

The last five years had taken a toll on me physically. I was down on myself.... lower than the lowest I've ever been.

FAILURE is my trigger. FAILURE makes me sad, and worse... it makes me eat. Food won't judge me like people judge me. Yes, it's the oldest excuse in the book, but it is what makes me tick.

Sure, I wanted to change... but every pregnancy loss, every failed attempt at pregnancy, every job change and shift, illness, EVERY TIME I ran into a roadblock... my body revolted against me. I morphed into my own personal speed bump.

And anyone who has ever been in this dark place knows that it's so goddamn hard to pick yourself up. Sometimes we rely on others to lift us up when we can't. In the end, the buck stops with us. The reality is just as the phrase my Dad has always lived by...

"Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get goin'! "

Over the holidays I had an epiphany of sorts. Even IF I achieved all I wanted I would still be unhealthy in body, mind, and spirit. Let me tell you, hitting 40 was a major wake up call. I had pains I never had before. I felt slower. Things were just different.

I started to think about THE REST OF MY LIFE.

Yeah, heavy stuff.

I made pact with myself that day in January.
1. I will attempt to lead a healthier lifestyle.
2. I won't berate myself for making mistakes along the way.
3. I will nurture ME.

So, how's it been going? Even with the donor disappointment, and my work life on the verge of collapse I stuck to my pact. I feel the emotions, but I am not letting them control me. For the first time in my life.

I am treating myself well. I'm still doing WW, and happy to say as of yesterday, I've lost 30 pounds (still MANY to go.. don't get too excited).
I am walking again.
I started reading again (a pastime I gave up, until I realized how much it soothed me).
I ate an entire cheese steak last week and felt no regret (hence, did not fall off the WW "wagon").
I bought a pair of jeans in a size I have not worn in 10 years.
I made an appointment for a facial.
I now listen to music when I feel my blood pressure rising.
I let myself off the hook for my past.

And it feels good.

Update from the Sick house

"Sick" as in illness, not "totally rad" (hey, I'm an 80's girl) or, what is it that the new generation defines sick? Like, awesome? phat? solid? fischnizzle?

Yeah, I'm SO not cool. Don't torture me.

So, S. is still sick, but marginally better so he's back to work. I am working (sorta), if you consider bringing my laptop to bed working. Or, the hour-long power naps I've been taking, oh.... every other HOUR.

I've had ear pain. Head congestion. A cough that rattles so bad it could wake the dead.

And David? Well, he's just fine. How we managed not to infest him with the germs is beyond me, although lately I HAVE been toting my can of lysol around the house.

In MILESTONE news, David lost two teeth!!

His bottom front two teeth fell out on New Year's eve and last Sunday. If I was feeling better, I would post a pic, but, alas, I am not in the mood for uploading from my camera.

Let it be known that David has noted that the Tooth Fairy is cheap for only leaving him 3 dollars for each tooth (he wanted $10!).

And so goes the last week of the first week of 2009.

The First Day

Today was David's first day of Kindergarten.

It started off great. He had his backpack and was ready to go:

He was excited to get on the bus.

I hopped in the car and drove to school, to meet his bus and partake in the Kindergarten Parenting Tradition of pictures in the gym.

He had that weary look on his face, with all of the parents buzzing around and the commotion, but with a kiss on the forehead he was off to his classroom.

A couple parents and myself stalked in the hallway, and as I zoomed in out of sight with my camera, I saw him crying silently at his desk, with his hands over his eyes. Not a day in the last four years of daycare, preschool, and pre-K, did David ever cry at school.

It broke my heart, and I wanted to reach out to him but I knew I shouldn't. As the teachers sat the kids at their seats, the assistant whispered something to David and he seemed to come around.

I lurked in the hallway until the principal encouraged us (gently) to leave. Three moms and I walked out with tears in our eyes.

I'm sure he's fine, and it was a case of the nerves getting the best of him... being in a new environment around new people. I remember my first day of school, and what a mixture of emotions. Happy, sad, scared, excited.

But after the events of the last few days it was a lot of tears shed from my end... all the way driving home, and salty tears hitting the keyboard as I type this.

My baby is a big boy now.

Bittersweet

Today my big boy graduated from Pre-K.

Soon, he will leave the teachers and caregivers he's grown to love over the last 4 years and venture into a new future.

Well done, Mr. David.

One Hand

Today, my little guy is 5 years old.

The time has passed so quickly. All of a sudden you somehow emerged from being a toddler to being a perfect little boy.

"If only we could clone you..." as Daddy would say.

Amen.

Riding off into the sunset...

You might remember I blogged about David giving up the sippy cup earlier this year.

Well, the last ties to toddlerdom are over as David finally.... FINALLY after 2 years of coaxing rode his bike!

This from a boy who never even rode a tricycle (trust me, we have one unused one in the basement AND a smaller bike that was NEVER used).

It was if he just decided that yesterday was the day. Of course it helped that his neighborhood friends were also on their bikes prodding him to follow.

Nothing like a little peer pressure...

I ran into the house and grabbed my digital camera to document the day. Excuse the crappy quality... it wasn't my video camera, just the video feature on the regular camera:

Disorganized

I am truly losing my mind.

In two weeks we leave for vacation in Hilton Head, South Carolina. Since it's a beach vacation (and we are driving), packing is a little more complicated since there's just stuff and gear that needs to go with us. And, the car we are driving down in this year is smaller, so S. is limiting my suitcases (he only wants to pack two for 8 days (3 people). The good news is there is a washer/dryer in our suite, but I hate to wash on vacation. And since we are packing light, we won't bring any of the usual stuff (case of water, soda, snacks, paper goods, etc)- we'll be spending our first day shopping at the Piggly Wiggly for groceries.

I have five lists for packing... mine, David's, hubby's, stuff to buy when we get there, and what to have in the car (things to keep David occupied for 12 hours and a cooler for the road).

Then there's work, which has been slowing down a little thankfully... BUT I have to make arrangements and delegate some of my work while I am gone for two weeks. Timely in the fact that my manager and I just reorganized our support team and totally changed how and with whom they work.... once again bad timing but we are limited to making big changes in the "slow" months of the business.... which is now. Sucks to be me.

David's 5th birthday is a week away. We decided to put off the party till June when we get back from vacation. But a party also involves PLANNING which I don't have time for at the moment. Initially we wanted to invite some of his school friends, but then we found out his best friend's party is the SAME DAY, and the invites already went out. So, he cried last night that he can't go to his best friends party... and I just felt bad.

Wait, there's more. I made my consult appointment at the RE, and honestly I am just cringing. I want to go, and I don't want to go. It is just a weird place to be. Wanting to move forward, but scared to do ANYTHING. That's a post for later.

If only the car was packed and we were on our way to vacation today...

All things random...

I found out last week that my hair stylist is moving to Florida. accccckkk! She is a good friend as well. I've known her for nearly 17 years, and it won't be the same without her. Now I have to find a new stylist (I'll probably stay with the same salon), which is a big decision. What to do, what to do.....

I've also been a little silent on something else I've been doing, which is losing weight! So far, I've lost 13 pounds. I figure there are so few things I can CONTROL in my life.. while I've been busy trying to wrap my arms around infertility and adoption I think I found something I can do that is positive and somewhat controllable...

Speaking of infertility... I haven't been talking much about it because I am still in a holding pattern. I need to make a consult appointment with the RE for next steps, but we are not in a rush. Reason being, we have vacation coming up in 4 weeks and I can't do IVF remotely from Hilton Head, SC. lol. So I am taking a little "infertility siesta". I just don't want to think about it right now. I figure we will do the consult before vacation so we can get the insurance and meds out of the way in the meantime. Or whatever we decide to do (or NOT do).

The adoption front.... is moving slow. Truth is we are in a weird spot deciding on an agency. Our country choice (did I mention this before?) is China... but because the waaaiting is draaaawing out so much on a China adoption, we are likely going right to SN (special needs). Still long, but not as insanely long. The question is, go with a China only agency that has a stellar reputation or another agency with other country options? You would think, duh, Shelli go with the latter... but there's some positives and negatives that don't make for an easy answer. So we think and research more and think some more. My goal is to get the wheels moving in the next month.

And lastly, but not leastly (is leastly a word? I think not), I am an Auntie again. My BIL and SIL had a little boy last week. This is my third nephew (first on my husband's side). He is cute as a button. J- I know you are probably far too deep in diapers and doctor appointments to read my blog, but a hearty congratulations (again) to you and C.

Randomness and Obsessive Tendencies

So I braved the below zero wind chill to enroll my son at the local Catholic school. There were a ton of people there. All us parents huddled in the gym sitting at the kid's lunch tables looking like kids ourselves. Filling in the admissions applications with #2 pencils and then, standing in a single file line to hand in our manilla folders.

If you were a stranger peering in from the outside you would have thought the S.A.T. was going on. Dead silence.

The woman that took all my papers was nice enough. She made a few copies of some important documents, reviewed the papers, and was nice enough to let me attach a cover letter to the admissions form (my last ditch effort to make them see that we must. absolutely. have. to. be. accepted.)

So, I've done all I can and now we are in wait and see mode for the letter in the mail that determines the fate of David's education. Fun, no? Kind of like getting accepted to college. Except the tuition is a little less. lol.

===========

In pg news, no news is good news I guess. I had a minor meltdown yesterday when I just KNEW my pregnancy was doomed.

I just can't give myself a break. I was so obesessed with having/not having/having symptoms I was like a grenade ready to explode. Which now has proven my theory that I cannot enjoy a pregnancy no matter how good the signs are. These stupid miscarriages have robbed me of any sense of peacefulness.

Much like an addict, I guess.. I am always looking for the pregnancy "fix", in this case my beta tomorrow and upcoming ultrasound. I just want someone to tell me things are going to be okay. Look into the crystal ball, and tell me what I want to hear.

That's just not going to happen, so for now I am living day to day. Ok, maybe I fudged that a little. More like hour to hour.

==============

Today is hubby and I's 13th Wedding Anniversary. 13 years. I just can't believe how fast the time has gone. And everything we've been though...it's still quite a wild ride. Still best friends. Love you sweetie....

Birthday wishes

Today is hubby's 40th birthday. Quite simply, I have to admit I don't know how the years have managed to slip by so fast. Didn't we just celebrate 30?
Happy Birthday, sweetie. ~xo

In other news, I am still in limbo with my hCG issue. Monday's result was 14, so lower than the last draw, but still not lower than two weeks ago. I spoke to the doctor, and we are doing another draw tomorrow... if it's the same or higher we will start meth.0.trex.ate. The concern now is the leftover microscopic cells could mutate into cancerous ones, and the meth.0.trex.ate would potentially eliminate the bad cells that set up shop in my uterus.

I do NOT need another lesson on bad luck. Please send major hCG lowering vibes. I do NOT want to take this drug.

Not only are the side-effects a bitch, but it could throw a seriously long wrench into my plans to ever get back to TTC.

I seriously am borrowing S.'s birthday wish when he blows out his candle on his cupcake tonight.

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~