April 30, 2008


My husband never remembers his dreams (lucky) but I always do. We often laugh at how mundane and stupid my dreams are. For example, last night: The husband and I visited some sort of aquarium museum. In the gift shop, I picked out a quartz that was carved into a turtle and bought it. Afterwards, I realized it was $11, and I panicked. I didn't think it was worth $11, but I was too embarrassed to immediately ask for a refund. And then my husband comes around the corner and sarcastically says, "You could always buy one of these," referring to a little statuette of a mother holding an infant.

Seriously, these are my dreams. Of all the things I could be doing -- flying, commanding a space ship, winning the lottery of free yarn -- I dream about buyer's remorse. And about how mad we are that we don't have a baby yet.

Apparently I'm just as parsimonious and cynical in my dreams as I am in real life.

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April 18, 2008


Today is our stinker's 3rd birthday.


His birthday kinda snuck up on us this year, so he doesn't get the same treatment he got for his 1st or 2nd. But he is getting steak for dinner. And he loves his birthday present: a stuffed beaver.

Here's to many more, Chuck.

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This morning we had an appointment with a fertility doctor.

I wanted closure. I wanted reasons. I wanted someone to pore over my charts with me and help me find the definitive a-ha as to why we haven't had a baby yet. And honestly, I wanted a big fat neener-neener "I told you so" that I could say to all the people who told me to just relax and stop stressing. I wanted there to be something wrong with us that we could fix.

But I didn't get that. Instead we got hemming and hawing and maybe you could get pregnant on your own but maybe you couldn't and you got pregnant once before but actually these test results don't look so good, well they're not the worst we've ever seen but they're not great and when are you deploying and for how long and hmmmm and uhhhhh and...OK, fine, you're candidates for fertility treatment.

And I guess the reasons ultimately don't matter so much. After 15 months, the ends justify the means, and whatever means it takes us to get a baby is fine by me. But I really wanted answers. Because as of now, we're still living with the same amount of uncertainty that we've dealt with for the past year. If there's nothing absolutely, definitively wrong with us that can get fixed, just some low numbers here and some less-than-optimal conditions there, then we just blew it. We had an 85% chance of getting pregnant this year and we blew it. That sucks.

And even though we're getting an extra dose of Science to help us on our way, it's just going to be more finger crossing and hoping for the best.

So my husband's leg of the journey ends here, but I must soldier on. Like Frodo with the ring, I will continue to carry the burden while my husband goes off to fight the battles of men (this analogy is totally working for me.)

And I'm ticked because we're right where I absolutely didn't want to be. We did everything we were supposed to do, and raised all sorts of concerns along the way. I took all my charts to the doctor last August and begged someone to listen to me. After the miscarriage, we pleaded with someone to hear our case. And now, now that my husband leaves for Iraq in less than a month, now they decide to help us. Now that the last 15 months have been one big fat waste of time.

And I can't help but be annoyed that if someone had just listened to me last year, our journey could've been more like this:

At any rate, we are where we are now and we have to make the most of it. At first the prospect of multiple babies freaked me out, but now I've gotten really used to the idea and I think I really want twins. Give me all the babies I am ever going to have in one fell swoop so I can be done with this horrible procreation process once and for all. Sorry, Mark Steyn, but I just don't have the stomach for it.

But it's funny; if we do end up having a baby, we will have Mark Steyn to thank for it. America Alone is the only thing that's kept me going. I asked my husband the other day what happens if we go through this entire stupid process and then only end up with one baby, do we go through it again? And he sputtered, "But...but...one child? But...Mark Steyn..." Ha, that book really messed with our heads.

So it's America Alone and now Sarah Alone, headed into Mordor with a burden that grows heavier with every step.

I start treatments the day my husband deploys.

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April 16, 2008


These LOL Cats are hilarious (via Mare). I crack up at this kind of stuff, but I'm easily amused. A simple "teh" can make me want to wet my pants.

Anyway, Charlie loves cats. Loves them. His first cat experience was with my in-laws' cat when he was young, and their cat thinks he's a dog. Seriously. He goes on walks and stuff. And he wrestles with Charlie. They scrap and fight and roll around. Unfortunately, Charlie now thinks this is how all cats are supposed to act. He's since scared the bejesus out of numerous cats because he wants to play with them and most kittehs are not into that sort of thing.

But he got to play with his favorite cat all last week, which was so fun to watch. Sadly, it's not so easy to photograph. But here they are, face to face, right before the cat reaches out and punches Charlie in the face.


Also, I forgot to mention that this cat is hilarious for another reason. The jokes write themselves because he has a dark patch of fur right under his nose. Beware of Hitler Cat.


Charlie doesn't seem so scared. Maybe he thinks his blond hair and blue eyes will endear him to Hitler Cat.

By the way, he would make a great LOL Cat.

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April 02, 2008


I found this article funny -- Average British family eats the same six meals every week -- because it's a running joke in our family that we never eat the same thing twice. The only time we have repeats is when we have company over because I'm not brave enough to try something untested when guests are coming. Otherwise, I browse the cookbooks every week and find something new to try. The downside to this is that my husband is not so vocal about what he likes and dislikes. He said once, "What's the point; even if I love it, we're still not going to have it again." I say there will be plenty of time for repeats once we have kids. For now, there's no reason why I can't spend three hours making enchillada green sauce from scratch. Yum.

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April 01, 2008


Do you remember that episode of House where all those people got sick on the airplane, and it turned out they were all psychosomatic? I completely believe in the power to think you're sick and the placebo effect. One thing I would love to see, which is a completely unethical experiment, is to give women positive pregnancy tests when they're not pregnant and see what symptoms they report. I would bet that most of them imagine themselves nauseated.

For over a year now, I have spent the final days of every month trying to guess whether I feel pregnant or not. All of a sudden, you notice every twitch and twinge in your body. There are pains in your abdomen you swear you've never felt before. You sit and wonder if you could throw up. And every month save one, all those symptoms I felt were imaginary. It's amazing what the mind can be tricked into thinking when you really want to be pregnant.

So I'm sitting here trying to fight back nausea that most likely only exists in my head. Mind over...mind? And then at the end of every month, I have this fight with myself because I get so annoyed that I fall for it every month. I berate myself for even entertaining the hope. Because when you start to feel the twinges and nausea, you start to imagine all the good stuff: taking a positive test, calling mom and dad, finally getting to use all the lovely things I got at my baby shower. And then it just hurts your heart even more when it turns out to all be in your head. It's a stupid cycle.

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