Pardon me, while I burst into flames

Disappointment is a part of life, you can never get away from it and when you think you do, life makes more. I had made plans Sunday to meet my friend and her family at the lake near her house, I had run it by the hub earlier in the week and to my understanding, that was fine. I told the little what we'd be doing Sunday and that we'd see her friends so naturally, she's excited. Come Sunday morning, the hub decides he's too tired and claims he never gave the 'ok' to go. {insert brief argument here} Generally I would just say fine you don't have to go, and Lily and I would have went but it was definitely a 'don't push your luck' kind of day, so I had to break the news to Lily since I was the one who told her we were going when in fact, we weren't. Que total emotional breakdown. I hate letting her down and the hub only made it better by saying you should have never told her until the plans were confirmed you mean until YOU decided the plans were confirmed? but disappointment is a building block, you have to learn that being disappointed comes with life. Its not always rainbows and butterflies, sometimes things don't go as planned, sometimes things don't go, at all. It builds character, just like being in line at the store and she picks the cheapest toy, the one that would make her smile from ear to ear to have it but you don't buy it this time. You can't buy something every time. As much as I would love to see that smile come across her face of pure delight, and on occasion I go wild and give into the $1 slinky, you can't always get something in the check out line. As parents we try to instill these values into our children without overbearing. As adults we 'forge ahead' to what's next. As infertile's we are given even more of a reason to fight. We know disappointment like no other, every month we're left running to the store for a box of tampons because we held out 'just in case' we weren't going to need them, even worse is the ache in our arms to cradle a baby of our own. Its hard, hard to stand up after we're knocked down each month and even harder to make the decision to continue with the next cycle. The hardest decision? when to take the gloves off and realize you've been defeated. We're natural born fighters, the swimmers of our fathers (gross, I know) fought out all the other swimmers, we're born to compete and to fight so naturally, not fighting, is uncharted water. At some point we may have to let ourselves float in uncharted waters and live in the bullshit world of 'if it happens, it happens'. I have to say though, staying afloat in that world sounds so much more appealing than the current treading to stay above water that consumes my TTC life now. My chart is very inconsistent and I'm almost certain I haven't ovulated in a few months so now our slim chances of conceiving on our own aren't slim chances anymore, they are no chances. My OB was able to get me in this morning at 8:40, I like the early appointments, generally I can get in and out before the preggo parade starts coming through however that was not the case on this shitshow of a day. First person I see is this twenty something with a spandex dress on, snuggling as close to her bod as it could with a glorious 8 month baby bump. bitch. Ok, I sit with my back towards her, forget shes even there. Out comes a couple in their thirties with their 6 year old and sonogram pictures in tow, they were boasting about just finding out what they are going to have (a girl, btw), passing the pictures back and forth and smiling at me as if I were a part of the celebration. I could barely get the slightest smile out without ugly crying right there in the middle of the office. Seriously? Finally after what always seems like an eternity I was called back only to discuss that before jumping ahead with the expensive HSG, I have to go in for blood work on the 18th and 'we'll go form there' 'Hi, DOC, remember me? We've been 'going from there' for two years now. I don't even know why I'm wasting more money on tests or with him, I should just save it all for the RE and the IUI. I'm scared to death of going through with the IUI, its our only shot at it and while I remain hopeful, I also have to prepare myself for the worse, the option of it not working and how I'm going to feel if it doesn't.  I'm tired of treading water, but I'm not ready for uncharted water. I'm not sure what my 'plan' is and maybe all my unanswered prayers are blessings in disguise and one day, one day I'll welcome the big ocean with open arms because that will be my only option. Nothing comes without a fight, doors will always close and people will doubt you but endurance pays off.

horror stories & hustlers. oh, and my ovaries still suck

I am being suffocated by baby news on fb. It's like a friggin' horror movie and everywhere I turn there is Freddy Fuckin' Grueger's uterus, you know, if he had one. One is in labor right now, posting hourly vagina updates, two are due in a few weeks and seven others continually boast about their impending motherhood.  I haven't even been logging onto my favorite TTC website, I've become this bitter bitch who 'hides' anyone who is pregnant on fb, ignorance is bliss and I'm happy as a clam to not see someones uterus, cervix dilation update or 'my baby is a small grapefruit this week' tickers, unless you're one of my really good friends, then I just stalk the shit out of your uterus. I've been finding it hard to breathe in most of areas of life lately. I've got the full weight of work on my shoulders and I know my boss is stressed, she's running herself ragged taking care of her unhealthy husband but when is too much, too much? When I'm standing here in the office rocking back and forth telling people about cats I don't have? or when there is no possible way I can do an IUI because it doesn't 'fit' in the schedule? I'm trying my hardest to free the work weight from her shoulders and I'm doing a pretty damn good job but man are my knees getting weak with everything. We all have issues in life, we all have stress and burdens but we have to always know we're not the only ship in the ocean and we must always, forge ahead. If there is anything at all that I've learned over the past few weeks, work, life and TTC wise, its that you can spend the rest of your life worrying about the future and no amount of worry will change a thing. Live a day at a time and take it as it comes. The only way to get to tomorrow, is by living today.


Yep, googled "weight on shoulders pics" and got this. eff you, google. EFF YOU.


I had an amazing birthday weekend, I truly have some of the best friends and family and am lucky enough to be able to share all my special moments with them. We grilled out, sat around laughing at each other and sipped our beer. My parents took the little for the night so some of us could go out and continue the celebration without parental judgement. So needless to say, I spent Sunday sweating out the alcohol by the pool. We got home that evening and still had a few chores to do leftover from the party and get in bed by 9. I would have made it 7 if possible. I learned that I'm way to old to be stayin' out till 4:30am. We got a knock on the door at about 6, I was just cleaning up dishes and such so the hub answered it said he'd be back in a minute and left. I figured a neighbor just needed help with something, about 20 minutes later he comes back with said neighbor. I hadn't met this guy, he's about five houses down, came in, introduced himself, chatted non stop about everything and had a nice recliner for sale and the hub wanted me to look at it. Sure, I'm all for meeting new neighbors and being nosey and checking out the inside of their house so we walk over. He gave us the grand tour of his house, full of millions of dollars worth of furniture and customization, he claims he bought the house six months ago but I'm almost positive he's renting, and renting it as is, meaning none of the shit he was bragging about was actually his. We get to the theatre room where the chair is, its a nice massaging chair, leather, smells like smoke and gumbo but I'm not judging and I'm not tryin' to pay $125 for it. He sweet talks, compliments and gravels to get me to buy it.We're building a deck, I have no cash and I really just don't want the damn chair. I nicely try to tell him just that, but he kicks it into hustle mode, like a broke car salesman feindin for a signature on the dotted line. My hub, all the while feeding the guys habit, trying to be as nice as possible. I'm trying to read the hub, wondering if he really does want the chair but soon realize dude has other motives. "well, you could give me half the money now, half later? I could drive you to the bank to get cash? Could you just give me a loan then, anything will help me out. My wife and I are diabetic and we're really low on insulin and CVS is closing soon. We really need it" is this really happening? Had he caught me a few hours earlier my response would have been "look bitch, I'm hungover as shit, I don't like being hustled and since when did they start calling crack, insulin?" or "Sure, hop in the car, I'll grab the roofies before we leave so I can get butt raped while we're at it!" I really wasn't sure what to say, his motives turned from neighbor introducing himself inviting us over for drinks to crackhead so desperate for a hit he's knockin' on people's doors and begging for cash. I wasn't about to lend him a dime, he'll be like a stray cat after that and never leave. There were so many things wrong with the bigger picture, if this was his million dollar house, why was he so hurt up for cash? If you were a true diabetic, wouldn't you have at least some 'back up' insulin, shit heat some sugar up with a spoon and hit it, I'm sure he knows how to do that! Finally, we were able to get away only because the hub told him to ask our other neighbors, which he did, and they gave him $20 for his habit. Awesome. Swear to god if he comes near my house anymore I'm calling the cops and telling them he's hiding Mexicans in his basement.

where the sand meets the shore

Vacation was everything I expected, I'm still still shaking sand from orifices, you know that's a good time. Spent some time basking in the sun, exfoliating in the ocean and of course, partaking in Jesus juice. er, wine. And I got my rook pierced! Don't be scared--it's just part of the ear. The piercer asked my tolerance level for pain, if he only knew, a sunny-side up baby, two tattoos, losing one of the most important people in my life and unsuccessfully trying to get pregnant for almost two years, yeah, I know pain sir. Of course, I let him off easy with the, I'm scared to death of needles but can manage pain pretty well. Any factor of pain can't touch what infertiles go through everyday. I think gouging my eyes out would be more tolerable than going through all the motions each month, only to always end up with the same result. The hub knew I'd been toying with the idea of getting it done and lets face it, when I 'toy' with ideas, its basically just letting him know that I'm going to do it. He actually took it much better than expected, maybe he's finally embracing my wiggly circle. lord knows it's not easy. His take on body/image altering things is "what kind of example are you setting" for the little. The awesome thing about her, she doesn't see tattoos or piercings. She doesn't see scars, stretchmarks or blemished skin. She doesn't see wiggly circles or straight arrows. She only sees me, if only the whole world could see people the way she sees me. The example I'm setting? Be who you are. Express yourself in whatever way that makes you feel alive, live in the moment and always believe in yourself.

 I'm feeling totally overwhelmed at work, I do it to myself. I always take on too much, I always think I can do it all. I know, no moderation. I have a hard time with lines and an even harder time asking for help. I guess I like the whole superwoman feeling, that is, until my cape tears and I come crashing to the ground, only then realizing even superwoman can't do it all.  I'll take one more step into the ocean and let it consume me rather than dancing along the edge where the sand meets the shore. We all like gratitude, we feed off it. Like the little ones who do anything in their power for a little parental praise, I guess we never really grow out of that. We always like to feel appreciated, we like to 'do it all' for a little recognition. There are days when I work late, take the little to the dentist, make dinner, clean up, put the little in the bath, find a few minutes to bathe myself and maybe get to sit down for a few before bed but its all worth it when, at the dinner table, she says "good job, mom!" Yeah, there it is-- I am appreciated, even if it is by a three year old, Dora loving toddler. My mom has been under the scrutiny of her fellow co-workers who are being inundated with grandchildren. Three of which are having 'surprise' babies, one who went through two IVF cycles to conceive their first two boys and unexpectedly found out they are pregnant with a third. This person in particular wasn't too thrilled about it. Really? You spent thousands of dollars for the two you have and you got a surprise like this and you're not thrilled? At this point I would be thrilled if a alien fetus came crawling out of my body, I would totally love that little ugly alien fetus. My mom knows my issues and luckily understands how hard this is for me, so even with her coworkers 'pressuring' her about when she'll be grandma again, she knows her boundaries and knows that there is a chance, it may not happen. Appreciation comes in so many forms and no matter who we are or what we've done, we always needs a little recognition to keep pushing forward.

Yep, I could totally love it.

Our deck is slowly coming along and by slowly I mean we haven't even gotten past pouring the footers yet. The deck guy is supposed to finish next week.  My back yard has 16 giant cement filled holes in it, I just know I'm going to go to jail because someones beloved fluffy comes over and gets stuck for days before we notice. It would have been so nice to come back from vacation to a complete deck, however, I'm all for saving 3 G's. I may need it to be bailed out of jail over fluffy. My birthday is Saturday, generally I don't do much for them, don't care that I'm getting older but this year, since my uterus is still vacant and my liver is in its prime, we're lettin' the Morrison Madhouse freak flag fly and havin' a cookout. What better way to spend your day of birth? Margs, friends, littles and a sprinkler? I just put Marg's before friends, didn't I? Don't judge. We'll probably have most of the gathering in the front yard, redneck style, to avoid the falling into any of the deck holes, I may be to inebriated to notice, for days. I'm most happy in that element, my favorite people around and some Yeungling yes, I said it, I've branched out from Bud Light *pats self on back*

Happy weekend friends!