BagMomma

You're a hard habit to break

2012-02-02T23:28:00.001-05:00

Am I crazy?

Well, I AM sitting in bed typing this late at night while guzzling a sports drink. I just about had a coronary a few minutes ago soon after quenching my thirst realizing that I was inadvertently drinking Weight Watchers points.

Wait, let me use my nifty scanner on my iPad.

Oh damn, I just drank 4 points. Argh!

Habits, so hard to break.

Sigh............, I'm back on the wagon. For the 2,566th time.

So while I've been spending time away from this place, life happens. This latest foray into weight control has no connection to a new years resolution. Rather, it's a pure scared straight lesson for a middle-aged woman. I guess that's what I am now, today... middle-aged.... If I happen to live to the age of 88.

Another birthday has solidified my need to do things differently.

Lately, I've been spending far more time in doctor's offices and labs than normal. It appears that this may continue into the foreseeable future. No firm diagnosis yet, just chatter and prognostication.

Damn, I've always wanted to use the word "prognostication" in this blog. Yes!!
Another item on the bucket list.

I had a blood draw a few days ago, and I stumped the nursing staff when my best vein decided it would shut down between test tubes 5 and 6. I had 9 to fill, so they poked around in my bad arm. Made me wistful of the good 'ole days at the RE office during infertility treatment. Those nurses knew my arms like they had a built-in GPS unit.

What I know for sure is I feel like I am 88. My muscles are so, so tender. My hair, well...you know... but now it pales in comparison to the other issues. Walking is a chore. It feels like I am trapped in a stranger's body. I don't know if losing weight will cure the diagnosis on the horizon, but I know it will help.

Thank goodness this situation hasn't curbed my Internet use. (snicker)

So, there I go again. The only beast as big and scary as infertility is losing my health, and I'll be damned if I take this next chapter of life laying down.

No pun intended.

I had thought about not posting any of these new developments here, but then, I thought... well.... I've already talked about the vag-cam for years, what the hell is the difference at this point.

I'm getting tired of thinking about blog posts in my head and never coming back here to type them.

So, for the handful of you still around, be forewarned, I am going UNFILTERED. I have no idea what I just meant there, but it sounded cool.

I've already blogged for 6 years here, what's 44 more?

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

My iPad is killing me

2012-01-30T22:25:00.001-05:00

I have a love/hate relationship with My iPad. More love than hate, to be honest... maybe a little co-dependent. Maybe a lot.

It started innocently enough. I became a proud owner of an iPad shortly after they arrived on the scene.

I became hypnotized by the HD screen. I marveled at how Angry Birds looked so much more colorful and vivid compared to my iPod Touch. I loaded my four e-mail accounts with ease. I transferred my Kindle books. I started playing Words With Friends...

Pretty soon I was taking my iPad everywhere. To work, to the waiting area at my son's karate, on vacation... and to bed.

That's when things got messy.

I was reading into the wee hours of the morning, only to fall asleep with my iPad leaning precariously on my bed.

I was losing sleep.

Then, my husband (bless him) bought me another iPad. A shiny iPad 2. It had a camera. Which pleased me greatly since I was dying to try Instagram ( my cell phone is, alas, an Android... pity).

I powered it up, connected to my home wifi only to lose my signal. Hmmmmm.... This is odd. My old one is still working...

After three days of dropped connections, I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to visit my friendly Apple store. So I do, and I meet the nicest tech guy who decides to swap out my newest child... Er.... iPad.

iPad 2 (#2) arrives home. Except this one is also a dud. I see a very unsightly message on my wifi settings. After consulting Google, I fear I have loved my iPad into hardware failure.

Why hast my iPad forsaken me?!?!? (shaking fist to Steve Jobs in heaven)

Back to the Apple store.

The same tech guy sees me coming, a mere 3 days later, and he proclaims I have some real bad luck.

Um, no.

Worse.

iPad 2 (#3) is DOA. The poor thing didn't even barely make it out of the cardboard box at the store. Screen dead.

Ooops. At least now I know it's not me. A group of 4 Apple employees all look very flushed with embarrassment. I still retain my charm even though my blood pressure is tipping into the danger zone.

Please! You. Must. Give. Me. An. iPad. That. Works. Don't make me cry at the Genius Bar. It will be messy.

iPad 2 (#4) becomes my new friend. Hey look, the wifi works! It worked IN the store and AT MY HOUSE, and at Starbucks!!!

Holy moly, I am on a roll.

Seven days of bliss so far.

My iPad is still killing me... but I love it anyway. Oh how I missed the simple, sleepless, nights.

Be well, my new friend.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Hark! The Angels Sing in Irony

2011-12-20T20:44:00.003-05:00

Where to start?

This has not been a banner year.

The eight year old in me will tell you flat out that it sucked. The big girl in me will tell you that I was not quite prepared for the curveballs thrown at me.

It seems I broke myself while attempting to reinvent me.

To continue the saga of the hair loss situation, last I left you I was only 40% bald, and receiving monthly cortisone injections to the scalp from a dermatologist. Since that time, I also modified my vitamin regime, and started cl.obetasol, to stimulate my hair follicles into reproduction.

Follicles, reproduction!

I feel like I am in my old infertile world. Not.

Alas, the treatment led me to a now depressing 60% bald, but bonus! thicker eyelashes, which is pretty ironic. I am soon appearing on a street near you as Sinead O'Connor circa 1990 or as an extra on The Walking Dead.

My primary care physician is more concerned with my cholesterol (which is high) and my weight. I am more concerned about my lethargy, weird appetite, random muscle aches, and the hair. The hair. A complete blood work up revealed normal everything (thyroid, blood sugar, etc.) nothing but the high cholesterol, so their take is I just need to eat better. SURE. DID YOU NOT HEAR ME?

Something is clearly wrong. Since I don't need referrals on my health plan (thanking my unlucky stars) I intend to find my own damn help.

My dermatologist broke up with me (i.e. ran out of ideas) and gave me the name of a doctor that heads up a very large specialty practice for all things hairless and/or Sasquatch. So over the bridge I will go. The benefit to this place is they intend to look at other reasons, specifically the immunological ones.

I will tell you that I've spent far too much time on Google, and the same things do come up, so I am really over the fear of the situation, I just want to KNOW WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. I hate to use the word ironic twice in one post, but isn't it ironic (fourth time) that a girl that never even went to the doctor except for infertility, paps, and mammograms is now willing to go to the ends of the earth for a decent one?

This post merely covers the health aspect of my life right now. Trust me, there's lots more 2011 garbage, I just can't seem to put the words together.

I feel like a total mess.

Damn, I really thought this would be a great year.

Fooled again.

The future is bright

2011-11-12T10:14:00.001-05:00

A diagnosis and an emotional meltdown

2011-10-19T13:42:00.000-04:00

Alopecia areata.

Well, that's the diagnosis anyway.

I had another visit to the dermatologist and received another bucket of injections to the head. My hair is still falling out, although it is slowing down just a bit. Perhaps that is because 60% of my hair is gone.

Less to fall out, you know.

I am seeing some regrowth, thanks to the cortisone injections. Just very fine hairs, and very small, but some. When I pull what hair I have back into a hair clip my head looks like a bad stylist went psycho with scissors. Thankfully, most of the bald spots are on the sides and underside of the hair that I have, so when the hair on top of my head falls left or right, I look not as terrible.

BUT.

Something happened at my appointment that terrified me.

Mr. Dermatologist reviewed my health history, and said... "hmmmmmm... I see you have a long history of recurrent miscarriage and infertility. Are you still pursuing that?"

Then, a long pause and lump in my throat. "no, why?"

He continued to explain that alopecia is sometimes a manifestation of underlying autoimmune issues. "Well, if you had come to me with this issue when you were doing treatment, I would have referred you to a doctor for more specialized testing, beyond typical testing for recurrent miscarriage.... because, well, you never know.... I have seen this..."

He went on with an explanation, but all I heard from that point on was ringing in my ears and a feeling that my stomach had sunk to my feet.

I had some basic autoimmune and clotting testing done after my second miscarriage, but I had always wondered if I dug far enough. I only had the basic panel. I was thisclose to referring my case on my own to a well-known doctor who works with this scenario after miscarriage #5.

And I always, always thought something was quirky with my immune system.

Weird illnesses.
Skin reactions.
Bad reactions to certain fertility drugs.
Curious reactions to anti-inflammatory drugs.
Pregnancies that progressed just so far and miscarriages that always ended with a normal tissue analysis. No chromosonal abnormalities. Normal. Normal. Normal.

But I had a baby once before! Doctors surmising... just bad luck, BAD LUCK.

Ok, changed our mind.... bad EGGS. After all, you are over 40 now!

I asked my RE back then about immune issues, but was told it was improbable with one normal, live birth.

Improbable, but not impossible...

I was sent on my way from the dermatologist with a prescription for topical hair medicine and a diagnosis.

But now?

I think I just opened a new door I can't shut.

And the answer?

It may just as well break me for good.

I remember you

2011-10-15T14:22:00.000-04:00

I suppose I will never be able to let October 15th pass without thinking of how different life would be today.

If only.

If only they were here.

Please keep those you love close, and if a friend needs and ear, offer it. It's not talking about loss that hurts our feelings, it's pretending it never happened at all.

Love today to my sisters-in-loss, and to the angels gone too soon. xo

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Hair today, gone tomorrow

2011-09-14T16:58:00.002-04:00

You know, I never loved my hair.

In fact, I was pretty sure I hated it until about four months ago when it started falling out.

In bunches.

In the shower, over the sink... on my pillow, in my food. My hair volume is about 50% of what it was earlier this year. I had my thyroid re-tested, miscellaneous bloodwork.. all normal. I eliminated common causes of hair loss, until I was left with one explanation...

Stress.

It may have triggered my follicles to cease and desist. This equally pisses me off and makes for, yep, MORE STRESS.

Brace yourselves...

Yes, my actual head.

Notice anything BESIDES the thinning hair?

Like red prickly marks?

That was where my dermatologist shot 15 needles INTO MY HEAD.

Scalp to be exact.

I had no idea where he was going with the appointment when he asked, can I give you a steroid injection? To see if it helps your situation? To which I said, yes, whatever.. PLEASE FIX MY HAIR.

I kinda had a panic attack shortly after ... I VAGUELY remembered him asking me to collect my hair in envelopes over the next week or two, then all of a sudden the injection (that I thought was going into my arm) was aimed at my head. Oh, and the best line yet...

"this may hurt a little..."

OMFG. It paled in comparison to the, oh, 1000 or so shots I endured during my active duty in infertility. I'd sooner shoot an intramuscular needle into my flesh blindfolded than endure this torture.

He kept injecting and injecting all over my head. My eyes started to water when he proceeded to massage my scalp.

Then he smiled sent me on my way with my homework assignment and set up my next appointment. I am forever changed. And I have a headache.

The only thing scarier than this visit will be the bill when it comes in the mail.

Or if I go bald. (please noooooo)

Ten Years

2011-09-09T13:30:00.001-04:00

It's been ten years.

If you've been a reader around my blog for awhile, you know that I try to somehow touch on the remembrance of 9/11 each year this date rolls around, whether it be in a blog post, Twitter, Facebook, or just with a pen to paper in my own thoughts. You can read some of the posts here, here and my original story here.

I am feeling a bit unsettled this year. I know that people are naturally drawn to "milestones" so of course ten years does mark an important passage of time. It seems like yesterday, I suppose. But then again, it seems like a lot has happened since then.

So, we all grieve in different ways, ways right? No way is the right way. All of them are valid, of course, depending on how close or far your were to the day's events.

I consider myself "once removed", that is... I worked a block away from the World Trade Center that year (traveling in from Jersey on a regular basis). My heart was there that day, but I wasn't... just by the sheer luck of a meeting reschedule. I didn't personally know anyone that perished, but I knew quite a few that escaped (narrowly).

I watched all the TV coverage over the initial months, fearful that I could have certainly been a casualty if not for a random event. Wondering what may have been, feeling gut-wrenching sorrow for those families and co-workers, alive and dead, enduring the pain of loss.

In recent years, I stopped watching any media coverage. Why? Well, it's hard to say this but each year after, I started to feel "dirty". Much of the coverage seemed a lot less to do about recovering and more to do with "news that sells".

You know what I mean... or maybe I should explain. Why is it that only certain families losses are featured over and over? Some have become mini-celebrities in spite of themselves. Out of all of the thousands of people that died? I must put a disclaimer here, as I don't want to offend anyone. I just find much of the news coverage to be....

indulgent.

A local news radio in my area is replaying their segments from September 11th this Sunday. And the point of that is.....?

For me, remembering is all about paying our respects to those who died and continue to die because of what happened that day. I feel sorrow for the victims, the families, friends, co-workers, and loved ones that continue to live life in memory of the ones that can't.

I pay respect to our servicemen/women who have worked tirelessly to keep our country safe, even losing their own lives for it.

What I don't want.. the drudging up of emotions for shock value. Such as, replaying a live segment (which I heard last year) when a broadcaster realized that the "thumps" they were hearing behind them were not bits of building, but bodies dropping from the towers before they fell.

Is this how we remember?

It just doesn't seem right to me. But then again, we all find our own way to lessen the pain I guess. I hope you find your own, and that this weekend finds you safe with those you love.

xo

The Wheel

2011-08-29T18:11:00.000-04:00

Somehow, I found my way to watching the VMA's on MTV last night. I had just sat down on the recliner after mulling around and cleaning the kitchen.

Man, I was tired.

No sleep from the night before after standing guard during the hurricane (we survived just fine, btw, save for a few hellish tornado warnings). I felt like my weekend had passed in a blur. The whole week for that matter.. so many natural disasters!... so little time.

Anyway, I tuned in just as Beyonce was rubbing her newly pregnant belly. Of course, I'm sure she's a nice and deserving mother-to-be, but I will freely admit that the image really hit a nerve.

As a knee jerk reaction I posted this on Twitter:

And then... I put down my iPad and cried.

It has been a long time since I had "that" feeling. It's as if the world shrank into a teacup and I could feel my body sinking into it. It's been a long time since I registered such an intense reaction from a purely random event. You would think several years after stopping infertility treatment, the pain would be a little less raw, but no. It was a hell of a lot more like ripping a band-aid off an open wound at sonic speed.

I failed.

I can never redeem myself from the fact that I failed! I walked away from failure (although it felt a lot like running at times) and on days like yesterday I feel like I am barely capable of even crawling.

But worse than that I still suck at not letting my emotions overtake me when I see someone happy and pregnant. There is no amount of self-discovery, therapy, or nachos that can deaden that insane feeling. It's ridiculous. Why can I not move on from this??

I am a hamster on a wheel, always chasing, running, hoping to get somewhere and ending up back where I started.

I wished so hard that this feeling would go away, and I can say with certainty, now, that it will never go away.

And I am just so damn tired of living with it. So fucking tired.

Stormy Weather

2011-08-27T16:27:00.001-04:00

Well, I am writing to you, presumably, before the electric company says I am to lose power and quite honestly I am also wondering if the end of days is here.

So, to recap the last 7 days...

We had 9 inches of rain about a week ago. The house didn't float away, but I really thought it might... our adjacent neighbors had water in their basements and several cars were underwater. We had but a trickle of water in the basement, and thanks to the pack-rat in me, a strategically placed bucket captured about a quart of water. Oh, who am I kidding... It was a bucket I shoved into the closet 2 years ago. But it saved a wet carpet.

Then, four days ago, a 5.8 earthquake shook the Eastern seaboard. And my office here in New Jersey. It freaked me out only because I thought something was wrong with me... I was suddenly nauseous, then noticed the building I was in was swaying, along with me, my chair, and my 2011 calendar on the wall.

Then... Today.

Irene.

So, really... are you kidding me? Now, a direct hit from a hurricane??

I really feel like I should have paid more attention to the warnings from Nostradamus. Or, perhaps zombies are the final sign.

I spent the last day reading about hurricane preparedness, freezing ziplock bags of water for future use, and fighting traffic and insane people for a few cases of water and a manual can opener.

And, then, to top off the madness... I received a recorded phone call from my electric company, TELLING me that I may as well kiss my power goodbye tonight. Oh, and by the way? They may not get around to restoring my power for an extended period of time.

I've decided that they are either being meticulously proactive, or idiots.

Meanwhile, it started raining heavy here about an hour ago. I sit writing to you via my iPad perched on my recliner. My house is about 35 miles from Atlantic City. Our county is not under mandatory evacuation, but I can sure as hell do the math since the evil eye of Irene will be passing us mere miles off the coast. I am more than mildly concerned.

We are ready (I think) and I am praying for the next 24 hours to go by fast. They say the worst will be during the night. I guess it's better everything will be at its worst in the dark. I really don't want to witness 90mph winds with my own eyes.

And, when the time comes that I lose power... I guess the silver-lining is I don't need to notify my electric provider. Apparently, they are shitting bricks waiting just like me.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Beach Bummed

2011-08-03T17:20:00.000-04:00

Well, July just flew by.

As promised I present you with photographic evidence of my spray tan. It looked great (ignore my mean face). Even coverage, no streaks, and no orange glow. I methodically used the blocker lotion on my hands, feet, knees and elbows as directed... and it was easy. Would definitely do it again, and especially for a unique occasion. For those of you who asked, the tan was via VersaSpa (not Mystic) and I chose the medium tone. I am intrigued to try the dark tone, but a little scared. Maybe on a week I know I don't have to go anywhere just in case.

So, l took my new tan on the road to Hilton Head, SC for our 10 day vacation. Didn't you wonder where I went?

We had a great time, as usual. This is the 6th year we've made the 12 hour drive. Sure, there was bitching and moaning being trapped in the car and dreaming of an exit on I-95 with a Starbucks, but the pain is worth it in the end when we see the sign that takes us to our home away from home.

David was like a boy obsessed this year. For one, he couldn't wait until he got the opportunity to go crabbing off the pier at the resort. He and hubby caught five blue crabs (catch and release), and they were in heaven. I particularly don't get the enjoyment of standing in the sun over a creek with fish smell lingering in the air, but to each is own.

Secondly, after David spent a week trying to make friends at the pool, he met a girl (insert oohs and aahs and curious eye rolling here). Is this when it starts, age 8?? Really? Goodness. Unfortunately, their courtship was short-lived.. she left the next day. However, he had a ball and I got a new friend too... her mother is the same age as myself and through conversation I found that she had her daughter via fertility treatment. We traded war stories, and it was really unexpected. It was like meeting a mirror image of me, and so glad I got the opportunity to chat with her. Thank goodness for Facebook to stay in touch. Sadly, David is left only with a picture of himself and his new friend- plotting how he might charter a boat to see his southern sweetie. I am still trying to help him understand that TN is not on the coast. lol.

We spent most of our days poolside, and if you follow me on Twitter, I posted a few pics along the way.

We were almost too lazy to spend time physically ON the beach. Too much preparing and effort. Plus, I admit it, I hate getting sandy. Hate it. However, we did take walks and collected seashells.

The thing I love about HHI is the relaxation factor. It's the only place I've vacationed where I feel truly rested.

After all the turbulence this year, I wanted that feeling more than ever. Problem is, once I shut down it's hard to boot back up. We got home on Monday and I've spent the last 48 hours walking into walls and navigating my foggy brain through the day.

The reality of being home was kind of a downer. You all know the feeling. Back to the grind, and to-do lists.

Speaking of to-do's, I am making a doctor's appointment for myself this week. Been feeling off for the last few weeks and some oddness going on with my fingernails looking weird and my hair falling out in bunches (has been for the last 6 weeks). The hair loss is worrying me. Really bad. I am asking for a thyroid panel at my regular doctor when I get in, among other things. Surely, five years of shooting up hormones hasn't affected my endocrine system, right?!? I can only guess the crap my body is going to give to me now after putting it though so much over the years.

For naught of course. Another post for another day.

So, I am back, sort of. Give me a minute and a latte and I will be ready to rock and roll.

Tan-tastic!

2011-07-06T17:46:00.003-04:00

What's the last new thing you've done?

Life in general has been sort of a rut for me in the past, but I've been doing A LOT of new things since my career change. David seems to be getting the biggest perks (in his mind anyway) because he finally has a Mom that is present in body and spirit.

We recently explored a few new parks, got a swim club membership, visited new places during THE DAY, made a few dinners together (instead of me throwing together what I can last minute).

As for me, I am doing something quite interesting and OUT of my comfort zone next week... I am getting a spray tan before we go on vacation.

I pray I won't look like this:

But as I've been expanding my horizons, I thought... why the heck not? The worst that will happen is I'll look slightly different for 7 days. And, I'll be out of state with my bad tan, so who will know me anyway? I'll just put on my Snooki-tude.

(Truth be told, my Mom was the guinea pig, and her tan looks great... shhhhhh).

did I just make a new word, Snooki-tude?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
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Barbie, the Groundhog, and Me

2011-07-05T23:16:00.030-04:00

What do you prefer to do on your birthday?

My birthday is February 2nd, in the dead of winter. I always hated that phrase "dead of winter", sounds depressing, no?

Anyway, 2/2 is also another well-known day, at least to me and my family- Groundhogs Day. I used to hate that my birthday was related to a rodent, but I've warmed up to it over the years.

Needless to say, I never had any outdoor/pool/summer parties on my birthday as a kid, BUT I had some really great indoor parties.

Case in point, my 5th birthday, complete with a Barbie Doll cake and a Barbie Corvette.

One of these days S. and I are going out to Punxsautawney, PA and celebrate with the Master Groundhog, Phil. Until then, the good news is I am always guaranteed a vanilla layer cake with buttercream frosting. My favorite accompaniment to the 2nd of February.

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Chasing Youth

2011-07-04T23:06:00.000-04:00

What has surprised you most about being an adult?

I remember being 18 and wishing I was 21. In my twenties I sort of looked forward to 30 because I always felt like I would be taken more seriously at that age. Then I turned 35 and wanted to slam on the brakes before I hit 40. Each time I passed a milestone the clock seemed to wind faster and faster ahead.

By the time 40 arrived I had felt much like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz after being awakened from "the dream." Disoriented. Wondering... who am I, where am I, what did I miss, and where did the time go??

So I as I write this today, I feel like each year progressively has sped up to the point that if I don't stop and look around, I'll miss a lot. Even a whole year. Or decade.

Yes, its true. Time does pass MUCH faster as an adult.

And boy I sure hope that 50 is far in the horizon as it feels right now. I'm really not ready for that.
I haven't even planned my plastic surgery schedule yet.

Kidding.

Not really.

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Guilty!

2011-07-03T21:40:00.002-04:00

A few guilty pleasures:

~ peanut butter cup ice cream
~ pomegranate shampoo
~ Coach handbags (still!)
~ reality television
~ my snuggie
~ venti lattes

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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Almost a John Hughes Movie

2011-07-02T12:26:00.000-04:00

My favorite wardrobe item in high school was my leg warmers. I probably should note that it was more 9th/10th grade because I think that was the peak of the trend. And I was a lover of trends....

So if you asked my friends (back then) to describe me in a few words I would think they would say fashionable, smart, and funny. When I think back to how awkward I felt as a teen, I could not imagine that the combination of those three words was an accurate portrayal of how I FELT about me. I had a horrible and skewed body image. Yet, I still mastered every pop trend that appeared in the 80's, and I guess I became known for it.

Yep, that's me above in all my big-haired glory. Circa 1985.

Leg warmers, neon plastic earrings, Madonna-esque jewelry, Guess jeans, off-the shoulder Flashdance sweatshirts, crazy makeup and BIG hair.

And a passion for all things Duran Duran.

And Molly Ringwald. Except I didn't have a male sidekick named Duckie. I had 5 sidekicks- my best female friends. We were in an odd clique in high school. Not the most popular girls, not the least popular. We were smart, and when we weren't keeping up our GPA we were hanging with the popular guys having fun (irony! for all the mean girls). Goes to show some boys do respect intelligent, witty girls after all.

Or maybe I was just lucky to not be tortured in high school for being ME.

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Summer Camp! and bedtime blogging

2011-07-01T10:58:00.001-04:00

In an effort to restore my blogging mojo, I am participating (along with a host of other bloggers) in a little project this month. Summer Camp! (courtesy of the master mind of Calliope).

You may see posts from me (gasp!) every day this month (or at least until I head out on vacation later in July) so hold on to your iced tea and sun hats!! And if you want to play along, sign up over here.

Today's writing prompt:

...where do I blog?

Yep, this is it. What? You expected a desk?

Now that I have a regular job and don't spend nearly as much time in my home office, I like to think of myself as an iPad-blogger-by-night. That is, I blog via an app in my bed with my cats Riley and Harley. Not even in the bed I share with S., but rather in the spare room along with my little corner I dedicate to hoarding purses, empty boxes, junk, and currently unused baby furniture. I promise you I don't have two toes as I depicted in the above illustration, but you get the idea.

It's not glamorous, I know. But it fits my new lifestyle well.

At least I'm not using clock-time with my old employer (like I used to) to write. oooohhhhh, did I just say that?!? tee hee.

See you tomorrow, when we'll be reminiscing about high school. and leg warmers.

The Reason

2011-06-22T09:13:00.001-04:00

"Were I to await perfection, my book would never be finished."
-Chinese Proverb

In my youth (more than once) I found myself asking for Divine intervention.

On many occasions.

I'm not sure if I was making a direct request to the man upstairs or just doing what I thought was expected. I didn't have a highly religious upbringing but my parents were bold enough to let me try anything I wanted if it served me spiritually. They gave me the foundation and then allowed me to explore. That worked great for me. But truthfully, life wasn't as complicated back then and I didn't have much opportunity to test the boundaries of faith.

So as I got older, wiser I realized that prayers sometimes do go unanswered. I never understood why and still to this day I find it really hard to just accept that on face value. I want to believe that you can achieve anything with enough hard work, but I've learned that is not always the case.

...learned...

Often in my infertility journey I came face to face with my spirituality and questioned, questioned, questioned. And I felt as if I slipped further and further into the abyss along the way. Not just with my own experiences, but of others I witnessed. I saw examples of friends and acquaintances having the world crash down on them, but yet not allowing that anchor to pull them down. So why was I struggling with that concept? What was the missing link?

Admittedly, I have had a big problem with folks who even slightly touched on the concept "things are just meant to be!" Oh how I hated that overused phrase and any like it (the image above is what prompted this post). Uttering a phrase like that instantly bought you a ticket to my sh!t list, henceforth, a target of ire and rolling eyes. Why? Because I firmly believed (still do, really) that anyone who says that has never been challenged by a hurdle so great or crippling that it shook their beliefs to the core.

But for those who can see validity in that phrase having lived though tremendous loss or disappointment?? I am envious. Really. Obviously, still working on this.

So lately, my thoughts have been turning to a slightly different angle... lessons. Instead of thinking that my personal life roadmap already exists on some otherworldly GPS, I am wondering if the hard stuff is presented to us at a time in our lives when we need a reality check. Not saying someone is pulling the strings or not, but what if karma really is more relevant that we think? Balance, yin/yang, whatever you want to call it, but it's damn near impossible to lead a perfect life in its entirety.

The imperfections of life is what makes us real.

Just as mistakes carve the way to character, misfortune sometimes sets us straight to seeing life beyond perfection. No, life isn't fair sometimes. Everyone needs an experience to feel that, otherwise the goodness is permanently flawed, the sun never shines as brightly.

But living the good and the bad makes us more emotionally aware. As much as prayer can ground a person, it's not always about looking for someone else to pull the strings to get to happiness.

So when it seems no one is listening, I've found that the answer often lies within me. And finally, after so many years of looking (for an answer) it seems being a student of life is what served me most. And continues to.

Perfection is overrated.

If only I discovered this long ago. But then, maybe I wouldn't be the person I am today.

Calling Home

2011-05-26T12:14:00.000-04:00

I've never really watched Oprah Winfrey. Well, maybe back in college when I had time on my hands in the afternoons.

I really haven't watched any daytime TV in the last 15 years.

To be honest, I don't think I missed anything.

So, the new, new job? It's great. And guess what? I was actually home, working on homework with the boy at 4pm ET yesterday. I wasn't in my home office pounding out e-mail or rolling my eyes on the 90th god-forsaken conference call of the day. I was sitting in the recliner with my boy studying Democracy and Government (is that not a heavy subject for a second grader??? yeah, I thought that too). It felt weird, and exhilarating to HAVE the TV ON before 7pm.

So, back to the original thought about Oprah.... I watched her last show in its entirety. Was Oprah channeling a message to me? It sure felt like it. She started talking about finding "your calling" and "listening to the whispers" (and not the crazy kind) and I started to have the A-HA! moment I always heard bantered about to regular watchers of Oprah.

I'm in the middle of my moment.

Let's back up a bit. The whispers? That I was meant to jump off the treadmill of corporate life? Yeah, I ignored them. For years. Now that I have a little distance from my last day in that world I can look back and see that the life there, MY IDENTITY, was stagnant. I needed to grow, again.

Grow taller, grow deeper.

I wasn't growing there, (except my ass was) due to the fact that I was a hermit in my own home. Working, eating, living, and barely opening up the blinds to the outside world.

Now I am here, in an industry that is foreign and, frankly, a little scary to me. But not REALLY. This is still a corporation after all, but with a very different spin. I grew up the daughter of a construction worker and that became the daughter of a very successful, power-couple parents that own and run a business that has provided all in the family with everything we ever wanted and needed. Back when I was a kid, and still today.

In the last three weeks, I have been working my tail off to bring the skills I learned over the last 20 years and started applying them here. Little changes, bigger changes... but they all add up to one thing.

I am contributing again to something WORTHY of my time. MY FAMILY.

Who knows where this journey will go. Surely, there will be times when all is not rosy (and I can't rain on my own parade so I won't mention the stress S. has been under at work... different topic). But for now, this is worth all of my effort. And it feels really nice to walk out of an office and be present for my husband and son at home. Hell, I am finally getting my laundry finished for once and the fact that I can get it done while working OUTSIDE the home is astounding and almost unbelievable. Especially considering I had loads of laundry that got moldy working at home because I never had the time to throw anything in the dryer.

So back to Oprah. How many times do I need to backtrack? My mind is all a jumble of words I really am excited to tell you all.

Oprah talked about finding "that thing" which comes naturally and easy to all of us, tune in, and get to the business of doing it.

Well, dear readers (or any of you that are left), that thing for me is writing. It brings me pleasure, joy, validation, and stillness that I just can't replicate anywhere else.

Which is kind of laughable, because I haven't been doing much of it here, but writing is all I ever think about. Problem was, the only time I had time to write (in my old life) was in my thoughts while I was lying in bed at night. I was never able to circle back and put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard. And now that I have time, my brain is on overload. I've been writing in other places and even *gasp* offline in a notebook. Yes, old school sometimes is refreshing.

I've even been READING BOOKS. I know, sounds crazy for many of you, but reading a book was a luxury I just didn't have before. The only thing I've pulled back on is my blog reading and commenting. That will come back in time, as I navigate my new life. For now, I realize that I can't just jump in with both feet... I am wading back into a life I never really had so I am still getting my feet wet.

It just felt right to reconnect with ME and then reconnect with all of you. A little introspection never hurt a soul.

I am so grateful that I have these two events converging at the same time.. a new job that is stimulating and offers "balance", and time to dedicate to my "hobby" (or "calling" as it were).

To say I feel like a fish out of water is an understatement.

But I am so glad I made it here.

There's just one missing piece. And yes, a non-earth shattering update on that is forthcoming in another post. :-)

Eight is Great

2011-05-12T10:44:00.041-04:00

"Eight is Great!" That's what I loved to tell you when you wore the number 8 jersey on two seasons of your soccer team. But now that phrase has new meaning...

Today, you turn 8, and I seriously can't believe how quickly the time is passing (and how tall you are getting).

In celebration of your 8th birthday...

I give you eight reasons why I love you.

1. you are kind and caring, and did I mention kind? It is a rarity to find a little boy that has such concern for others feelings. You will do well to keep that as a strength, no matter how many ax kicks you do in karate.

2. your smile lights up to the heavens. You giggle in a way I know for sure you are mine, because no one laughs at my silly jokes like you do.

3. you have come such a long way in school (almost to rockstar status) and Daddy and I are so proud because we know it hasn't come easy to you in the past.

4. you bring me a glass of water "just because" you know I like to have my water beside me.

5. you listen to Daddy and I A LOT of the time, which equally stumps and astounds me. I feel like I ought to be on guard for the teenage years to come, when you become a hellraiser (please don't!). If you think you are building up extra credit to ignore me when you are 13, think again mister!

6. you take care of your cats like they are your children, which makes me believe you will be a great Dad someday.

7. you use religious references in your spelling sentences at school on a regular basis, which is probably one of the only perks of sending you to a parochial school (kidding... but it is cute).

8. you were and are a blessing I could have never imagined.

Love you buddy.

Happy 8th Birthday!!

Love, ~~Mommy~~
Mom (argh, you are already referring to me as just "Mom" and it's killing me, just so you know)

Open Wounds

2011-05-02T13:57:00.003-04:00

I did not intend to write a post about this... lord knows there are many and to be honest, I read only one. My friend Mel, posted today over at her blog and as I wrote my comment to her reaction I could feel all that sadness and rage washing over me again.

I've written maybe a half dozen posts over the years around 9/11, and my personal connection to all the madness.

I regularly visited NYC with work back then. Walked Lower Manhattan more times than I could count. Walked through the towers, rode the elevators, ate and slept at the Marriott, shopped Century 21, bought ibuprofen at Duane Reade and brushed my hand across the bull as I walked down to my favorite Starbucks near my office.

I cried for all the people that died that day, many whom I probably passed by dozens of times before not knowing it would be the last time. Fortunate only because 9/11 was one day I was not there.

I never went back to Ground Zero. Never visited. Couldn't bear to feel the ghosts of all of those strangers that died. Didn't want to meet the sadness head-on. The total destruction of my innocence brought about by Osama Bin Laden.

I was on Twitter last night when the news broke. To be honest, it didn't even occur to me that it was OBL that was the news. I thought maybe a giant meteor was headed toward Earth.

Yes, I'm a little overly-pessimistic.

I heard the official news via live video on my iPad as I was lying in bed. I turned off my iPad, rolled over and fell asleep, dreamless. My reaction last night was almost non-existent. Until I logged on the computer today. There was that familiar sadness and rage. This time, with a side of weirdness.. happy that someone is dead.

As I was making David breakfast I heard him ask, "Mommy, why is everyone so happy we killed that dead guy?"

I'm not quite sure where to even start. Or even if I should.

Not a Fairytale: National Infertility Awareness Week

2011-04-24T11:31:00.000-04:00

"You have plenty of time to try to get pregnant!"

That statement still makes me shudder and quiver with anger and regret.

This time last year, I was in a very dark place when I penned my thoughts surrounding Infertility Awareness Week. I was six months out from my last failed donor IVF cycle- THE last cycle I would ever embark on.

I wondered if I could ever capture happiness again.

Looking back, I am still mired in regret. Let's be honest here... when you are in the muck of infertility's grip it's very hard to see forward into the future or assess the past. It's hard enough to live in the present. The difference for me between this year and last year is time. Time and space to think about the actions I've taken on my own infertility journey with a fresh perspective.

Did I do enough? Yes, I would say I did. I exhausted every medical procedure from IUI to IVF to IVF with donor eggs. I drained my savings. I had five miscarriages along the seven years, countless medical procedures to attempt to diagnose and "fix" what was wrong only to end with no success and a still "unexplained" diagnosis.

But I tried.

My biggest regret is that I did not educate myself early enough around the concept of fertility.

The biggest myth that still haunts me?

That I thought I had time.

...that I could put off having children to grow my career and invest in individual pursuits. That there was no expiration date on my fertility.

This myth sadly perpetuated by well-meaning (but unfounded) opinions from our own social circles that it was okay to wait to build a family.

...from the Media, that carried the same message that "older" moms are becoming the"new normal".

...even our own doctors often failed us by not stressing the time clock was indeed limited. That female fertility starts a precipitous decline after age 27. That eggs have a "shelf-life".

My body failed me... not on purpose but rather by nature.

I am the ugly side of infertility.

I am not the happy-ending to the fairytale.

But it's not all bad.

Ironically, I now consider myself a self-taught expert on the subject of fertility, or lack of it. Because the journey did not end in the way I imagined, I share my knowledge with anyone that will listen. I bust the myths around fertility every day to at least save another from walking a similar path. There is no sugar-coating the truth.

This is the only positive way I've found to channel the emotions I still have, and always will carry with me.

Fertility is NOT forever.

But we can make a difference in understanding and acknowledging it.

------------------------------------------

Understand infertility: Visit Resolve.

National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) is April 24th through April 30th: Take Charge.

Corporate Retirement

2011-04-21T07:12:00.003-04:00

Today is my last day.

Many of you already know, but this is the day the world knows. Nearly 20 years with the same company in the same industry immersed in the land of software technology and fast-paced-blink-and-you-miss-it business. That's my favorite logo up there (not in use for quite a long time since acquisition), as I always thought of myself as yellow, then b.i.g blue. Always yellow.

Today I give up my company-owned laptop (truthfully, I wanted to chuck it though the window but policy dictates that I transfer it in a .... ummmm...more "civil" manner).

This was my identity.

Until today, that is.

For the next ten days I am unemployed, and in May I start a new career in the family business. Less stress, less long days and hopefully more time to dedicate to myself and my family.

Looking back, I nearly could vomit when I think about the rollercoaster which was my career here. So many twists, turns, and drops. So many opportunities to morph into a raging bitch (heh), but thankfully I leave the same way I started on my first day in 1992...

...just me... older, wiser, way more computer literate, integrity intact! and armed with a kick-ass Coach bag.

Here's to the memories and friends I've made along the journey. What a strange and precious journey it's been.

Salut.

Kismet

2011-03-24T14:04:00.001-04:00

I had a random conversation with an acquaintance recently, someone that I know to talk about general "stuff" but not ever connected on a personal level. Actually, two people but I need to explain each in its own context.

I somehow knew this person and I would see eye to eye. Kind of that "feeling" that there is more under the surface. I've become very guarded in my conversations lately, I don't know how to explain except to say that I have found a peacefulness in quiet. Maybe reflective is a better word. What's different for me is I've spent a lot more time listening than talking to family, friends, and strangers.

So it was an odd occurrence when this person asked me, simply, "you look deep in thought, how are things?" And the conversation ebbed and flowed right to the heart. Somehow in 10 minutes we went from talking about our sons to infertility to adoption. She is me. Her life story is a reflection of shared pain and relief. Forty minutes of talking to someone who not only "gets it" but sees (outside of the job related stress) the part of me that no one notices. She saw through the hardship and saw peace.

How cool is that??

Ironically, acquaintance number two was a mom I met at a sports practice. We sat next to each other watching our sons and started to chit chat. Her son ran over to sip a bottle of Gatorade and I immediately noticed he looked much different from her. I must have smiled a certain way, because as our two boys ran back to the field, she turned and gave the knowing look. For those in the ALI community you get it too... she knew. "Are you an adoptive Mom?"

The answer, "well, not yet..." .. and the conversation ensued. I smiled driving home the two miles from there to here.

There is goodness in quiet.

And I am thankful that the universe knows it too.

Awakening

2011-03-14T10:01:00.000-04:00

The last two weeks have been crazy. Sort of like being on a rollercoaster against your will. I love rollercoasters, but imagine being on one for 24 hours a day. Every time I catch my breath on the way up, I know the next steep drop is just seconds away. Then, my eyes closed, hands clenched...my head is screaming.. "no! no. no. no....argh, no!!"

Terrible analogy, I know, but the only way to describe my new job.

I feel like I bit off more than I can chew. I had a meltdown of epic proportions last week (yes, tears too) and the weeks events have left me reeling. I've awakened each day to a headache and heartache I can't get rid of. I haven't eaten. I feel drained.

And then the thought occured to me that, even though this is all new to me and I should probably give myself a break for being the newbie, there is something else going on here. Something that won't get better with knowledge, training, and time.

Perhaps my need to a new role was less about needing a change in my current tasks and more about a lifestyle change.

I know, great time to realize this. But I guess this is how things go sometimes.

Truth be told, I won't say I made a mistake, but I will say I probably gave lip service to how this could alter my ever-confusing work/life balance. Looking big picture, I'm realizing that I am in need of an even bigger change that will take me away from my 18 years invested in the corporate environment. I wish I could say I don't have to work at all, but there's bills to pay unfortunately. That doesn't mean our dual-income family can't be tweaked.

And we will be tweaking.

So I don't want to divulge to much yet, but I am working with S. to devise a plan that will benefit our family and put a lid on the madness. Both S. and I have been in career turmoil for some time, and there's a point when you lose sight of the forest through the trees. That's where we are.

As much as I would like to think that the changes I've made thus far are for the better, there's no harm in acknowledging possible mistakes and re-evaluating.

As usual, life is subject to change....