It’s been awhile

I haven’t written much lately. I’ve thought to myself many times, Hey, you should blog about this. But… Then I don’t. I’m in a transition, and I can’t even figure out what I’m doing long enough to write about it before I change again.

I’d juuuuust about gotten it all figured out, and for about 3 weeks there I was doing great. I’d gotten it all worked out in my head to let go of some shit and that it was going to eventually feel OK to settle in to some nice child-free living plans. (See Bucket List).

Then I got a couple of pregnancy bombs dropped on me, I fell into an “eh, meh” type of week, and next thing I know I’m trying to figure out how I can finance a private adoption.

Arg, brain, come on and give me a break.

BLOGtober Fest – Looking back

Today we’re linking to an old post and revisiting it. I think if you are new to my blog this’ll give you a pretty good idea about where I’ve been this year.

The Elephant in the Middle of My Mind

We still have no children. We still have never had even a positive pregnancy test. And we’ve come to the end of our assisted reproduction attempts for the foreseeable future.

Time has helped move the elephant from the middle of my mind to a corner. I still run into it occasionally, but I’ve reclaimed some of my joy, too.

Zits and ovulation?

So, I saw this thing on Pinterest. It was a drawing of a face with numbers on it, and the numbers corresponded to different areas of acne, which referred to a list detailing the possible causes of acne in that facial area. Some of it was obvious (PMS hormones) and some less so (possible kidney or digestive issues). On the part about chin zits, it said that indicated ovulation, and a breakout on a particular side of the chin area indicated which side you were ovulating from.

Now, I have no idea if this is legit or not. There’s a lot of wacky shit on the interwebs. But it got me to thinking, wow, I sure have several pimples on the right side of my chin right now. And then I was like, but I’m not ovulating, didn’t I just have my period like a couple days ago? Then I was like, I really have no idea. So I looked it up on my calendar and turns out it is somehow already Cycle Day 14. So yeah, I guess I could be about to ovulate from my right side about now. Huh. Interesting.

I’ve been so not trying lately I literally haven’t even been keeping up with what cycle day, or even week, I’m on. This is kinda good news, I think. Like, for the longest time I couldn’t have made myself that oblivious if I tried. So not obsessing about it is good. However, now I’ve gone to the ignoring it phase, and it is just so strange to realize it. Strange and a little sad.

Apricot ale-fueled musings

Hey, I’m drinkin’ beer. That’s a great time to update a blog, right? Well, OK, maybe not, but here I am. Work has been suckin’ lately, so enter the post-work adult beverage. Yum. Work’s not really what I’m going to write about though.

I’ve been thinking about getting back on the Pill. Yeah, you read that right. To help my PCOS symptoms, I feel like I need to return to one of 2 things: the Pill or Metf.ormin. Right now, my hormones are just doing their own crazy thing and my face and belly are really reminding me of that. (My latest escapades with that aforementioned SNRI didn’t help the extra poundage either.) Metf.ormin would help with one of those, as well as regulate my cycle some. I fookin’ hate taking it though. The Pill would probably help everything, including my mood if I respond to it in the same way as I did in the past, but clearly there is a downside.

I feel like getting on the Pill is giving up. But haven’t I pretty much given up already? But still, there is that TEENSEY TINY chance. The Pill would eliminate any and all (likely imaginary) teensey tiny chances.

August ICLW

Welcome new and returning ICLW visitors. This month’s Where I’m At summary is Fertility: What happens, happens. No ART. Brain: Switching Anti-Ds and riding that rollercoaster. Life: Doing more crafty stuff lately and am on Week 2 of Blue belt in taekwondo. It has been 1 year since I started taekwondo.

What 1 year of taekwondo looks like

Current goals:

  • Finish reading Anna Karenina (about 200 pages left)
  • Crafty exploration (ongoing)
  • Earn brown belt (about 2 months away)
  • Finish converting office into yoga/taekwondo space (ongoing)
  • Restart regular yoga practice (hopefully soon, currently intermittent)
  • Earn black belt (about a year away)
  • Have kid (who knows)

 

A surprise from the universe & the slippery slope

This probably should be 2 posts, but, just like in my real life right now, I can’t seem to separate them.

I had a pleasant surprise this morning (OK, afternoon, I slept in) as I opened the kitchen window blinds while waiting on the coffee to brew: Surprise flowers. Being in a drought, about the only things in my yard still alive and thriving at this point are the weeds and the apple tree. And even the apple tree is struggling, dropping her apples already. The grass, what little there is, is dry as straw, and the remains of the blackberry vines and canna stalks are crispy and brown.

So I was happy to see these in bloom.

This is  Lycoris squamigera, commonly called naked lady, magic lily and resurrection lily. There are actually 2 stems of these that have popped up in this bed, but I selected this picture to show what is behind the flowers. The day that I hung my homemade prayer flags that I blogged about in Making Up with the Universe, I also got out my typewriter and wrote a little note to that bitch Infertility and buried it in that red flower pot. (I wanted to bury it in the ground, but it is just so dry here.) I covered up that ugliness that I am trying to let go of with some decor, including a butterfly on a stake, and set the pot under my apple tree, below the prayer flags. And this is where my surprise flowers decided to make their appearance. So, OK, Universe, this lovely message is not lost on me. Thank you.

***

Today is a good day for the surprise flowers, too, ’cause I have to admit I was feeling a little bit sorry for myself yesterday. It’s weird, the things that can be disconcerting, when you’re going along having a nice day. In a joking conversation yesterday with a friend about him never buying me a beer, I was reminded by my friend that said beer had been previously provided to me on a couple of occasions, one of which was at a party a few years ago. I’d brought only one beer to this party for me to drink. Long after I’d finished that beer, we were still hanging out with our friends, and I was wishing for another one. So he gave me one. Maybe it was two. Whatever. That’s not the point. The point is, this made me think, why did I only bring one beer to this party? Ah yes, because we were TTC, and I was trying to be “good” during the 2WW even though I knew the cycle was likely a bust anyway. I guess the fact that this was ages ago and I was TTC then and still haven’t now, the passage of all this time bummed me out.

I think quitting assisted reproduction is like quitting smoking for me. I’m reminded all the time, little memories, things I see. When I quit smoking there were the little things that reminded me of how sucky it was to not be smoking. The after-dinner cigarette. The cigarette while driving. The smoking while drinking. Remembering something you did with a friend and recalling you were smoking back then. Now that so much time has passed since I smoked, none of that really bothers me anymore. The only time I ever feel a little twinge of wanting to smoke is when someone lights up near me. That split second of the initial flame-to-tobacco burning smell. I suppose that with time memories of TTC won’t bother me as much too. But right now, pregnancy announcements, or someone’s new ART attempt, kinda sting. Cause I’m not in that game anymore. And on purpose, I realize I took myself out of the game. But that doesn’t change how it feels. A long ago memory during TTC just reminds me of how much time has really passed. Good change, bad changes, life goes on, yes, but the time, realizing it has been so long and that I can’t get any of it back or slow time down, well it just sucks.

Similar to walking away from most anything, no matter how good it is for you to do so, physically or mentally — such as smoking, drinking, a relationship, or whatever vice or struggle or “favorite sins” you want to use as an example here — quitting ART is hard because you feel these twinges and you start thinking, maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt. This time it might work, or it might turn out better. One more try, but I can still quit whenever I want… It’s a slippery slope.