I am thoroughly enjoying my prednisone insomnia, so I thought I'd catch up on my blog. Although I could expound on how quickly the glamour of sticking myself in the belly with heparin has completely gone away, I'd rather talk about our New Tricks Around the House to Save Stuff.
First, let us ponder floss. Yes, floss. That rare commodity that people use to clean their teeth. (I'm reeking in sarcasm. Can you tell? It's that insomnia thing) We have floss coming out our respective ying yangs around here. Dave and I go to the same dentist and after every visit, our goody bag contains a carton of floss among other treats. We are not as good of flossers as we should be. So, I can honestly tell you that we have 5 full cartons of floss around our house.
And then my darling husband went to Target and bought a jumbo size carton of mint flavored floss. He could not understand why I flipped out over a new JUMBO size carton of mint when it was a mere $.75. But then I pointed out the 5 other cartons. He claimed (!) that he did not know they were there, and ok, I believe him because in a bathroom cleaning frenzy a few weeks ago, I did put them in their new Special Place (in a basket with our zillion free toothbrushes from said dentists and the boatload of travel sized toothpaste we have, too). However, the point here is not that I'm a nut or I freak out over spending $.75 we didn't need to. No, the issue is 6 cartons of freakin' floss!!!!!
So, I've taken to flossing every single time I brush my teeth. First thing in the morning? Brush and floss. After breakfast? Brush and floss. Mouth needing a pick-me-up in the afternoon? Brush and floss. (That one is not so common) Time to go to bed? Brush and floss! My teeth are CLEAN! The dentist is going to love me!!!
But let us be clear, I'm not flossing because that's the healthy thing to do. I'm flossing because we have too much freakin' floss around here. I cannot stand to have things sitting around that we are not using. (Please see entry on husband's 59 t-shirts for more information)
Now, let's discuss water. For those of you who still doubt global warming, I thunk you on the head. For the rest of you, including those of you who might be wondering if this is only the tip of the iceberg (using a poorly chosen metaphor), there may be concern that this is just the first summer in hell in a series of summers in hell coming up. Thus, water is going to be a real issue.
Now, saving water is not exactly being cheap. Water is, relatively speaking, inexpensive. But we've gone to some pretty serious extremes around here that 1) make me feel holier-than-thou, but 2) only until we can convince others to use our tricks. We now have a bucket in our shower so that when we turn on the water and wait for it to heat up, we can save a several quarts of water. We are now washing our vegetables over a big bowl in the sink, saving the water to use outside on our starving landscaping and inside on our shrivelled houseplants.
You would be stunned to find out how much water you can save doing just those two tricks. And apparently, if you use Ivory dish soap, you can pour your dishwater outside to water your plants. And acid loving plants like hydrangeas and azaleas can handle and even thrive off cold coffee.
I know it sounds nutty and it is quite honestly a pain in the butt. (Belly? A pain in the belly? BTW, I have a huge bruise already. And I accidentally jabbed my finger tonight and have a disgusting bruise on my bird flipping finger. It could come in handy right now, though, to be honest.) OK! Back to the water. Folks, I feel like our conserving water right now is similar to saving money when you're not in a budget crisis. I always end up in a budget crisis and wish I had saved more money when I had more money. That's what I feel like now with water.
Because if this weather pattern keeps up for 10 more years, or even just 5 more years, we are all screwed.
So go put a bucket in your tub and save some water and a thirsty plant. Then go floss your teeth. You'll make more room in your linen closet.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A Step Down the Adoption Path
We went to CSS today to meet with their director of adoption services and figure out what the hell we're doing. It was a very good meeting. They are starting to take names for families because they have had so much placement--they don't take families in when they are "full" or there are not a lot of children being placed so this is a good thing.
It doesn't seem like they have a lot of spectacular failures such as when the Dad shows up years later and tries to fight for the child. And I didn't gather the they've had a lot of bio mothers change their mind at the last minute (like in the hospital when the adoptive parents are heading in to take their prospective child home). But I guess "not a lot means" only 2 out of the last 10 have done this.
These are all (relatively) good things.
I did shock the hell out of her when I said I was interested in breastfeeding. Apparently, I am the first mother to mention she was interested in such things---she wasn't even sure it was physically possible. We assured her that it was.
Still.....
Or rather I should say "But...." which should cue YOU to say "All my friends have a big 'but' " and then you laugh. Or maybe that's just me.
This option is very appealing to us. And neither of us are wanting to wait around because we can't figure out what to do.
But....but....
We're just starting on this new treatment to see if I can get pg. I really do want to be pg again and to easily bf again. I want to make sure that our new child doesn't have layer upon layer of complications just because he or she is with us and not another loving family.
But then I also don't want to wait around and decide this is EXACTLY what we want and be 6 months or 9 monhts behind in the process.
I think we're just going to have to walk down this path. It's not going to be a cheap path to walk down. But if we don't take a step somewhere, we're not going to get anywhere. And maybe when it comes to the decision point, when we really do have to commit, it will be obvious which path we should finally commit to.
It doesn't seem like they have a lot of spectacular failures such as when the Dad shows up years later and tries to fight for the child. And I didn't gather the they've had a lot of bio mothers change their mind at the last minute (like in the hospital when the adoptive parents are heading in to take their prospective child home). But I guess "not a lot means" only 2 out of the last 10 have done this.
These are all (relatively) good things.
I did shock the hell out of her when I said I was interested in breastfeeding. Apparently, I am the first mother to mention she was interested in such things---she wasn't even sure it was physically possible. We assured her that it was.
Still.....
Or rather I should say "But...." which should cue YOU to say "All my friends have a big 'but' " and then you laugh. Or maybe that's just me.
This option is very appealing to us. And neither of us are wanting to wait around because we can't figure out what to do.
But....but....
We're just starting on this new treatment to see if I can get pg. I really do want to be pg again and to easily bf again. I want to make sure that our new child doesn't have layer upon layer of complications just because he or she is with us and not another loving family.
But then I also don't want to wait around and decide this is EXACTLY what we want and be 6 months or 9 monhts behind in the process.
I think we're just going to have to walk down this path. It's not going to be a cheap path to walk down. But if we don't take a step somewhere, we're not going to get anywhere. And maybe when it comes to the decision point, when we really do have to commit, it will be obvious which path we should finally commit to.
Friday, August 17, 2007
I'm Kind of Excited
Despite being swamped with the beginning of school issues again, I have spent some time googling on this new regimen for infertility.
A 2006 study in Fertility and Sterility found that this combination of drugs (heparin, progesterone, prednesone, daily aspirin, daily prenates, and daily extra folic acid) increased live births for women with recurrent miscarriage by over 40%. Of course, this treatment is most effective in women with unknown reasons for m/c, and we know that our second m/c was a trisomy problem incompatible with life. But we don't know for sure that m/c 1 was a trisomy problem and we do know for sure that m/c 3 was not. And that subchorionic bleed in m/c 2 could be an indicator of a problem.
So, we don't know much.
Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to seeing if this helps us get pg and, then, lead on to a live birth. I'm actually excited for the first time in a really long while that this might work.
A 2006 study in Fertility and Sterility found that this combination of drugs (heparin, progesterone, prednesone, daily aspirin, daily prenates, and daily extra folic acid) increased live births for women with recurrent miscarriage by over 40%. Of course, this treatment is most effective in women with unknown reasons for m/c, and we know that our second m/c was a trisomy problem incompatible with life. But we don't know for sure that m/c 1 was a trisomy problem and we do know for sure that m/c 3 was not. And that subchorionic bleed in m/c 2 could be an indicator of a problem.
So, we don't know much.
Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to seeing if this helps us get pg and, then, lead on to a live birth. I'm actually excited for the first time in a really long while that this might work.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Back to Plan A
We had a follow-up visit with our Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE) yesterday. Although I was not altogether thrilled with our first visit, we were asked to come back after we got the results back from the chromosonal test of the last m/c and all my bloodwork, if the results were negative.
Well, all the results were negative, so I wanted to see what our "new" options were.
Oddly, the RE was more interested in the two chem pgs I've had since the m/c than the test results. My multitude of chem pgs, along with the neg results from baby's chromosonal tests, suggest a possible auto-immune issue in that I'm "allergic" to a baby implanting and my body is trying to reject it. (I may be over stating the case here, but that's what I took from it). It's hard to test for an auto-immune problem with pg, but it does follow a bit from what Dr. Alan Beer has argued about women who have recurrent miscarriages. Our doctor thinks Beer took a sledgehammer to the small-nail problem and thus turned off a great deal of the medical community. Our RE would consider himself Beer-light (or lite-beer!) in his approach; he wants to take the edge off my auto-immunity responses, but not make me susceptible to dying from the treatment. (Thanks! I appreciate that!!)
So, we're starting a whole new regime for the next 6 to 9 months or so. I stay on my folic acid, pre-nates and baby aspirin all the time. Then, after ovulation and for the next 14 days or so, I take a very small dose of prednisone, a small amount of heparin (belly shots!), and the progesterone supplements. And we'll see what happens. If my body is trying to reject these pgs even though they are viable, this should help.
Another miscarriage, especially without chromosonal problems, could rule out this as a problem. And a successful pregnancy wouldn't necessarily mean that this worked, but it could be helpful.
The dealio with this treatment is "It won't hurt, it might help." At this point, if I had any scientific evidence that dancing naked in the backyard during a full moon might help and wouldn't hurt, I'd do that, too. Nonetheless, the screams of my neighbors poking their eyes out at the sight makes that option a community health hazard, and thus, harmful. So no naked dancing. But some steroids and blood thinners? That I'll do.
Yes, I do know that this is all about perceived control. But I'm glad to have a plan. And I'm glad the plan involves trying something to help me have a baby on my own.
At the end of this time period, if we don't have a successful pregnancy, I'll be in much a much better place to say "We've tried the best we could, now let's move on to something else." And by that time, we should be at higher places on all the lists we're on so we can have more options quickly at our fingertips.
It sounds like a win-win proposition to me.
Well, all the results were negative, so I wanted to see what our "new" options were.
Oddly, the RE was more interested in the two chem pgs I've had since the m/c than the test results. My multitude of chem pgs, along with the neg results from baby's chromosonal tests, suggest a possible auto-immune issue in that I'm "allergic" to a baby implanting and my body is trying to reject it. (I may be over stating the case here, but that's what I took from it). It's hard to test for an auto-immune problem with pg, but it does follow a bit from what Dr. Alan Beer has argued about women who have recurrent miscarriages. Our doctor thinks Beer took a sledgehammer to the small-nail problem and thus turned off a great deal of the medical community. Our RE would consider himself Beer-light (or lite-beer!) in his approach; he wants to take the edge off my auto-immunity responses, but not make me susceptible to dying from the treatment. (Thanks! I appreciate that!!)
So, we're starting a whole new regime for the next 6 to 9 months or so. I stay on my folic acid, pre-nates and baby aspirin all the time. Then, after ovulation and for the next 14 days or so, I take a very small dose of prednisone, a small amount of heparin (belly shots!), and the progesterone supplements. And we'll see what happens. If my body is trying to reject these pgs even though they are viable, this should help.
Another miscarriage, especially without chromosonal problems, could rule out this as a problem. And a successful pregnancy wouldn't necessarily mean that this worked, but it could be helpful.
The dealio with this treatment is "It won't hurt, it might help." At this point, if I had any scientific evidence that dancing naked in the backyard during a full moon might help and wouldn't hurt, I'd do that, too. Nonetheless, the screams of my neighbors poking their eyes out at the sight makes that option a community health hazard, and thus, harmful. So no naked dancing. But some steroids and blood thinners? That I'll do.
Yes, I do know that this is all about perceived control. But I'm glad to have a plan. And I'm glad the plan involves trying something to help me have a baby on my own.
At the end of this time period, if we don't have a successful pregnancy, I'll be in much a much better place to say "We've tried the best we could, now let's move on to something else." And by that time, we should be at higher places on all the lists we're on so we can have more options quickly at our fingertips.
It sounds like a win-win proposition to me.
Monday, August 13, 2007
Mama Non Grata
This morning, I was having a cup of coffee and reading the paper. A thunk and the pitter patter of little feet let me know Conor was up.
"Is that a little snickerdoodle!?" I asked my adorable child as he walked in the kitchen rubbing his eyes.
He screwed up his face and scowled at me, "DADDY!"
Then he angrily marched into the bathroom where Dave was taking a shower and sat with him until Dave finished, got dressed and came back to the kitchen.
Happy Birthday to me, indeed!
"Is that a little snickerdoodle!?" I asked my adorable child as he walked in the kitchen rubbing his eyes.
He screwed up his face and scowled at me, "DADDY!"
Then he angrily marched into the bathroom where Dave was taking a shower and sat with him until Dave finished, got dressed and came back to the kitchen.
Happy Birthday to me, indeed!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
My Toe
I'm so sorry to leave you with such a vulgar title to that last post. (Although, I admit, it was pretty attention grabbing)
I have been at a conference since Saturday and only arrived home 1 hour ago. And look at how quickly I come to check in on you! See how much I care!?
Well, the "old" problem with long distance running has raised its ugly head. Or I should say it's ugly toe: I've once again lost the nail to my second toe. I had let the nail grow out to long and pretty much any run over 1 hour kills it.
It is, as we refer to it in my household, my HAMMERTOE! (Da da da da, Can't touch this! Da da da da! Can't touch this!)
Trust me, you don't want to touch this anytime soon. As Dave pointed out, when I do my own pedicures from now on, I'll go back to painting the toe, since the nail pretty much remains gone while I do any long distance running.
Oh joy.
I have been at a conference since Saturday and only arrived home 1 hour ago. And look at how quickly I come to check in on you! See how much I care!?
Well, the "old" problem with long distance running has raised its ugly head. Or I should say it's ugly toe: I've once again lost the nail to my second toe. I had let the nail grow out to long and pretty much any run over 1 hour kills it.
It is, as we refer to it in my household, my HAMMERTOE! (Da da da da, Can't touch this! Da da da da! Can't touch this!)
Trust me, you don't want to touch this anytime soon. As Dave pointed out, when I do my own pedicures from now on, I'll go back to painting the toe, since the nail pretty much remains gone while I do any long distance running.
Oh joy.
Friday, August 03, 2007
My Butt
Continuing on a week of personal revelations, I had to go to the doctor yesterday for a truly embarrassing situation.
(((((sigh))))))
I know I don't need to talk about such things on my blog--I control what goes on here--but 1) it's funny and 2) every time I search Dr. Google, they only list the question and never the resolution. So I'm sharing this information to Help The World.
Ever since I've had Conor, I've had problems running. And not just the typical problems in that I can't find the time to run. I've had Poopy Problems when I run. Bloody Poopy Problems.
AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!
Now you know how I feel.
First, I noticed I couldn't wear tampons when I ran without this problem occurring. Then I noticed that if I had not completely, ahem, cleared my bowels before I ran, I'd have this problem. Now that Dave and I are training for a half marathon, I remember that if I go over a certain distance, I have this problem. Since this distance is less than 13.1 miles, I cannot adequately train for the half-marathon.
Before you start freakin' out on me, the most likely culprit is hemorrhoids.
And indeed, that is the doctor's speculation. Yes, I had to go see the doctor who won't laugh at my jokes. (This is not the same as the dermatologist with a personality deficit) I like my internist, but he does not get my humor. I cannot find the link to my previous post in which I Made This Doctor Laugh. But Dave made me promise that I would not tell him any jokes. (HA!)
How could I help it? He has to look up my butt. If somebody didn't laugh during that visit, it would be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life!
So, the joke involved whether I had a history of hemorrhoids in the past. I told him my delivery nurse pointed one out after I gave birth to Conor, but I didn't know if I had any more because I really don't look spend a lot of time looking my bottom.
A slight smile and a "Heh heh", and that was all I needed.
ANYHOO, he didn't find any big 'rhoids but gave me some medication for my booty and I've set up an appointment with what I'm assuming is a proctologist who can get a deeper look in to see if anything is going on up a bit further. (Yippee!) Can't wait for that appointment!!!
So there.
You'd be surprised how many people have this same question out there on the Internet. So, now I have done a service and provided an answer. There will be a follow up post or two on the resolution.
I'm sure you can hardly wait.
(((((sigh))))))
I know I don't need to talk about such things on my blog--I control what goes on here--but 1) it's funny and 2) every time I search Dr. Google, they only list the question and never the resolution. So I'm sharing this information to Help The World.
Ever since I've had Conor, I've had problems running. And not just the typical problems in that I can't find the time to run. I've had Poopy Problems when I run. Bloody Poopy Problems.
AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!
Now you know how I feel.
First, I noticed I couldn't wear tampons when I ran without this problem occurring. Then I noticed that if I had not completely, ahem, cleared my bowels before I ran, I'd have this problem. Now that Dave and I are training for a half marathon, I remember that if I go over a certain distance, I have this problem. Since this distance is less than 13.1 miles, I cannot adequately train for the half-marathon.
Before you start freakin' out on me, the most likely culprit is hemorrhoids.
And indeed, that is the doctor's speculation. Yes, I had to go see the doctor who won't laugh at my jokes. (This is not the same as the dermatologist with a personality deficit) I like my internist, but he does not get my humor. I cannot find the link to my previous post in which I Made This Doctor Laugh. But Dave made me promise that I would not tell him any jokes. (HA!)
How could I help it? He has to look up my butt. If somebody didn't laugh during that visit, it would be one of the most embarrassing moments of my life!
So, the joke involved whether I had a history of hemorrhoids in the past. I told him my delivery nurse pointed one out after I gave birth to Conor, but I didn't know if I had any more because I really don't look spend a lot of time looking my bottom.
A slight smile and a "Heh heh", and that was all I needed.
ANYHOO, he didn't find any big 'rhoids but gave me some medication for my booty and I've set up an appointment with what I'm assuming is a proctologist who can get a deeper look in to see if anything is going on up a bit further. (Yippee!) Can't wait for that appointment!!!
So there.
You'd be surprised how many people have this same question out there on the Internet. So, now I have done a service and provided an answer. There will be a follow up post or two on the resolution.
I'm sure you can hardly wait.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Adoption Vs. IVF: Part 2
IVF
So what about IVF? What are the pros about IVF? Well, first of all, it’s cheaper than adoption. (Who knew?) And I hope that the first part of tome makes you realize that it’s not like there are dozens of adoptable children just hanging around waiting to be picked up. It’s a lot harder, expensive, time oppressive than it looks.
But IVF has very big risks, especially that it can fail. Adoption ALWAYS has a child at the end of the path. IVF does not. But with a successful IVF, I’d get to be pregnant again, and I’d be able to easily breastfeed. (Well, as easy as breastfeeding ever is. But still, it would be objectively be easier than adoption)
One big problem is that we don’t know where I fall in the IVF success risk. I get pregnant a lot more than the typical early 40ish woman. Am I more like a 35 year old? Will IVF be as successful for me as it would be for a 35 year old? And I’d like to point out that the rates are not all that encouraging, even for a 35 year old. But I honestly and truly do not think I’m a typical early 40’s woman.
That said, there is another option that we had originally thrown out: donor eggs. I originally felt that it was a very vain option: if I wanted donor eggs, then I must believe that I have to be pregnant to add to our family even if this child is not genetically related to me. On the other hand, if it is not important for me to have a genetic connection to my child, why wouldn’t I go ahead and adopt? That was my reasoning until we saw all this crap about how expensive adoption is and how fraught it is with failure.
And this IVF route is not as expensive as you’d think: $23,000 and the possibility of 6 fertilized eggs which could yield 2 or maybe 3 children! We could have a really big family! On a per child basis, it could be pretty cheap. Of course, daycare would set us back a bazillion dollars and we’d be 80 before everyone graduated from high school. (I’m kidding, folks!)
Of course, I’m being very positive in those statistics: It’s possible to only get 2 fertilized eggs and to have them not implant and then you are left with nothing for $23,000. That's a bad, bad thing. The current success rate is 60% at our clinic, but it all depends on how many fertilizable eggs the donor produces.
And then there’s the “issue” with donor eggs. I’m not supposed to let anyone know that we have even heard of it, much less considered it. It’s supposed to be a taboo subject that parents might want to (should?) keep this information away from their donor-egg children and even more so from the community around them. It might affect the children’s identity in the future, because they are not technically genetically related to their birth mother.
I would like to pause here for a moment and direct you to reread the beginning of this essay. I will even point to yesterday. A child who has gestated in his/her mother’s belly for 9 months is more susceptible to identity issues as a teenager and adult than the only black person in the family? More?!?!? Is that how “bad” IVF advocates think adoption is!?
I don’t get it. And I don’t get why women are so unwilling to talk about it. Women like Jane Seymour, Elizabeth Edwards, Joan Lunden, Holly Hunter and Geena Davis who appear to most likely have used egg donors to have their children. (In fact, pay the $2.95 and read the recent NY Times article yourself). How can IVF with egg donor be more identity shaking for the child than adoption? I think the real issue is the very high probability of being able to lie to child about his/her origins and get away with it. How can that sort of untruth ever be helpful? (For the 50% of you who have used donor eggs and are not going to tell, I do not judge you. I simply cannot keep my mouth shut for that long.)
The analogy I’ve heard about egg donation is that it’s sort of like a kidney donation or even bone marrow donation. Somebody had a need. Some other healthier person had extra. Once “it” leaves the donator for the donated, the donator has no claim on it again. This whole process has even spawned a new word: biogenetic child to distinguish that some children are both biologically and genetically related to their mother.
So there we are, people. You now know a lot of what I have learned in the past two months. (I should have entitled this “What I did on my summer vacation.”) That’s a boatload of information and I should get an A on this project. Nonetheless,
WE DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE GOING TO DO.
Ok? We don’t know if we’re going to adopt, if we’re going to choose IVF, or if we decide to choose IVF whether we’ll use donor eggs. WE DON’T KNOW. I hope that all of a sudden I just get pregnant “naturally” with a healthy child and save us about $20,000 in the cost of finishing up our family.
I also don’t know that if we decide to use donor eggs that we’ll tell you. As Dave and I have discussed, you can’t unring that bell. And if we, upon further discussion, see why we should keep this a big secret, we really don’t want the internets knowing about it.
We’ve had to wrestle with putting this out here (for the three of you who are still reading the end of this loooong essay) because if we do decide to do IVF regularly, that idea that they are donor eggs is now planted in your head.
But it bugs me to think that there’s some myth that egg donor children are more fragile than adoptees in their self image and identity issues. I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to put my (in my head) egg donor child’s ego over my (in my head) African-American adopted child’s ego because I see a boatload of advantages for identity/adjustment/ultimate self-concept for the (in my head) egg donor child. The weird thing is how feisty I get in thinking about defending that in-my-head adopted child. The adopted child could have real issues of abandonment and difference that the egg donor child will never, ever have.
So there. That is where we are in the process. We have a great deal of information spread in front of us and we’re going to have to make some decisions soon. This essay is probably more for us to help sort out our decisions than for you to follow. And it really does help for us to get it out.
We have some time to make all these decisions and hopefully be surprised with a healthy pregnancy. Until then, we’re going to keep plodding along until we find that next child who is supposed to be in our family, whoever he or she is.
So what about IVF? What are the pros about IVF? Well, first of all, it’s cheaper than adoption. (Who knew?) And I hope that the first part of tome makes you realize that it’s not like there are dozens of adoptable children just hanging around waiting to be picked up. It’s a lot harder, expensive, time oppressive than it looks.
But IVF has very big risks, especially that it can fail. Adoption ALWAYS has a child at the end of the path. IVF does not. But with a successful IVF, I’d get to be pregnant again, and I’d be able to easily breastfeed. (Well, as easy as breastfeeding ever is. But still, it would be objectively be easier than adoption)
One big problem is that we don’t know where I fall in the IVF success risk. I get pregnant a lot more than the typical early 40ish woman. Am I more like a 35 year old? Will IVF be as successful for me as it would be for a 35 year old? And I’d like to point out that the rates are not all that encouraging, even for a 35 year old. But I honestly and truly do not think I’m a typical early 40’s woman.
That said, there is another option that we had originally thrown out: donor eggs. I originally felt that it was a very vain option: if I wanted donor eggs, then I must believe that I have to be pregnant to add to our family even if this child is not genetically related to me. On the other hand, if it is not important for me to have a genetic connection to my child, why wouldn’t I go ahead and adopt? That was my reasoning until we saw all this crap about how expensive adoption is and how fraught it is with failure.
And this IVF route is not as expensive as you’d think: $23,000 and the possibility of 6 fertilized eggs which could yield 2 or maybe 3 children! We could have a really big family! On a per child basis, it could be pretty cheap. Of course, daycare would set us back a bazillion dollars and we’d be 80 before everyone graduated from high school. (I’m kidding, folks!)
Of course, I’m being very positive in those statistics: It’s possible to only get 2 fertilized eggs and to have them not implant and then you are left with nothing for $23,000. That's a bad, bad thing. The current success rate is 60% at our clinic, but it all depends on how many fertilizable eggs the donor produces.
And then there’s the “issue” with donor eggs. I’m not supposed to let anyone know that we have even heard of it, much less considered it. It’s supposed to be a taboo subject that parents might want to (should?) keep this information away from their donor-egg children and even more so from the community around them. It might affect the children’s identity in the future, because they are not technically genetically related to their birth mother.
I would like to pause here for a moment and direct you to reread the beginning of this essay. I will even point to yesterday. A child who has gestated in his/her mother’s belly for 9 months is more susceptible to identity issues as a teenager and adult than the only black person in the family? More?!?!? Is that how “bad” IVF advocates think adoption is!?
I don’t get it. And I don’t get why women are so unwilling to talk about it. Women like Jane Seymour, Elizabeth Edwards, Joan Lunden, Holly Hunter and Geena Davis who appear to most likely have used egg donors to have their children. (In fact, pay the $2.95 and read the recent NY Times article yourself). How can IVF with egg donor be more identity shaking for the child than adoption? I think the real issue is the very high probability of being able to lie to child about his/her origins and get away with it. How can that sort of untruth ever be helpful? (For the 50% of you who have used donor eggs and are not going to tell, I do not judge you. I simply cannot keep my mouth shut for that long.)
The analogy I’ve heard about egg donation is that it’s sort of like a kidney donation or even bone marrow donation. Somebody had a need. Some other healthier person had extra. Once “it” leaves the donator for the donated, the donator has no claim on it again. This whole process has even spawned a new word: biogenetic child to distinguish that some children are both biologically and genetically related to their mother.
So there we are, people. You now know a lot of what I have learned in the past two months. (I should have entitled this “What I did on my summer vacation.”) That’s a boatload of information and I should get an A on this project. Nonetheless,
WE DON’T KNOW WHAT WE’RE GOING TO DO.
Ok? We don’t know if we’re going to adopt, if we’re going to choose IVF, or if we decide to choose IVF whether we’ll use donor eggs. WE DON’T KNOW. I hope that all of a sudden I just get pregnant “naturally” with a healthy child and save us about $20,000 in the cost of finishing up our family.
I also don’t know that if we decide to use donor eggs that we’ll tell you. As Dave and I have discussed, you can’t unring that bell. And if we, upon further discussion, see why we should keep this a big secret, we really don’t want the internets knowing about it.
We’ve had to wrestle with putting this out here (for the three of you who are still reading the end of this loooong essay) because if we do decide to do IVF regularly, that idea that they are donor eggs is now planted in your head.
But it bugs me to think that there’s some myth that egg donor children are more fragile than adoptees in their self image and identity issues. I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to put my (in my head) egg donor child’s ego over my (in my head) African-American adopted child’s ego because I see a boatload of advantages for identity/adjustment/ultimate self-concept for the (in my head) egg donor child. The weird thing is how feisty I get in thinking about defending that in-my-head adopted child. The adopted child could have real issues of abandonment and difference that the egg donor child will never, ever have.
So there. That is where we are in the process. We have a great deal of information spread in front of us and we’re going to have to make some decisions soon. This essay is probably more for us to help sort out our decisions than for you to follow. And it really does help for us to get it out.
We have some time to make all these decisions and hopefully be surprised with a healthy pregnancy. Until then, we’re going to keep plodding along until we find that next child who is supposed to be in our family, whoever he or she is.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Adoption Vs. IVF: Part 1
Adoption
Ok. Grab a cup of coffee because you might be here a while.
Last year, after the second miscarriage we started looking into international adoption as the way we’d build our family. Dave and I had often talked about adoption even when we were just dating thinking that we might be too old to get pregnant. That’s why when we got pregnant with Conor so quickly, it was a surprise.
So it was even more of a surprise was how much resistance I felt within myself when we started looking into international adoption. I know that international adoption is the preferred way for most American couples these days, but it, at least at that point, was not the path that was right for us to take.
Why? Breastfeeding. A very big part of my conception of myself as a mother involves breastfeeding and the bond that Conor and I have developed through my being able to feed him with my body. It would bother me tremendously if our second child did not get a chance to bond with me in that way.
Also, I know I’m not a developmental psychologist. Nonetheless, it concerns me what could happen (or not) in the first year (or two!) or so of a child’s life before we adopted him or her. Children are incredibly resilient. But our understanding is that many international adoptions occur with children at least a year old and often, you’ll be assigned your child and then still have to wait 6 months until you can go get him/her. With the likelihood high of me causing an international incident trying to hurry the process along, It just doesn’t feel like that’s the right path for us.
So, we put adoption on hold misguidedly thinking that we were too old for domestic adoption. Then we found out we were not too old and were thrilled to hear that people “our age” could domestically adopt infants.
Yes, most domestic adoptions are with infants, and the adoptive parents often take the child home with them from the hospital and sometimes are even in the birthing room with the biological mother. WOW! An infant that would come home with us within a few days of his/her birth! And we could breastfeed!! It’s not easy, but it’s certainly possible.
Also, it was crystal clear to us early in considering a domestic adoption that the child’s ethnicity did not matter to us at all. In fact, we were quite open to what is known as “transracial” adoption as well as biracial adoption. We don’t need for our adopted child to look like us. This helps the adoption process a lot. For one thing, it also makes the process much more likely to go quickly. By saying we’re open to all healthy children, we have many more opportunities to find our child.
However, there are still issues.
First, mothers change their minds. The process for domestic adoptions is that biological mothers look through the profiles (i.e., photograph albums) of a range of prospective parents working with an agency. Then she picks the family who could be the parents of her child. The adoptive parents and the bio mom most often meet and decide to proceed with the adoption. However, the bio mom has every right in the world to change her mind. And after birth, 20 to 50% of them do. (As a statistician, it bugs me that the agencies can’t give us exact numbers. It’s an objective data point: either the adoption placement did or did not occur. How many did not occur out of the total number of adoption processes that started? Easy peasy, folks.)
Second, it takes a long time. Catholic Social Services has quoted us at least a year for a healthy non-Caucasian child and well over 2 years for a healthy Caucasian child. A Child’s Hope in NC has suggested that it’s 6-12 months for an African American or an African American biracial child and well over a year for a Caucasian, Latino, or Asian American child. Adoption consultants, charging $2500 to represent you to up to 30 or 40 agencies around the country, can shorten the time for placement with some guaranteeing placement in less than a year. But we discovered that they tend to work for the most expensive agencies, and we just don’t have that kind of money. (We’ll talk about why we have ruled out foster care adoption at this point in our search in another blog)
So that takes us to drawback number 3: Money. Before I quote numbers, remember that in the US, you can take $10000 off your taxes the year you adopt. And this is right off your taxes, so it’s essentially a refund from the government for the adoption. Catholic Social Services (CSS) charges $12,500 for any and all adoptions. That is an appealing option. A Child’s Hope charges (I think) about $13,000 for an African American adoption, $15,000 for an African-American Biracial adoption and $23,000 for everyone else. (Does that information bother you? It should.) The agencies the consultants work with start at $23,000 for African-American adoptions and go on up to at least $35K to $50K for Caucasian adoptions. There can be additional charges for the mother’s living expenses and searching for the father to give up his rights for all of the agencies except CSS.
So CSS seems like a good option, no? It certainly does to us. They are also one of the few agencies that do not make you pay half the money up front and then the other half when/if you get the baby. CSS only has you pay upon placement of the baby. The problem is that it’s just no way of knowing how long it will be until we have a child placed with us. (6 months? 2 years??)
And I haven’t even started to address that adoption causes for the children of same ethnicity adoptions (e.g., abandonment) much less transracial adoptions (e.g., identity, feelings of difference) reported by adult transracial adoptees . There are no insurmountable issues involved here. It is clear to us that we would not back away from adoption because of these issues. In fact, we want to arm ourselves and protect our child from having to deal with this.
But in any case the adoptive family needs to take many extra, important steps to make sure they don’t screw it up. I’d argue this is even more an issue when there is already a biological child in the family. (A strike against us, btw, in having a bio mom choose us)
There is humor in this, as always. The funniest thing I’ve heard is that an advantage for transracial adoptees occurs when they are teenagers and their parents start acting like parents of teenagers do all the time: embarrassing their poor children. Transracial adoptees can act like they have no idea who those old embarrassing farts are and can generally get away with it! I think that’s a hoot!
So now you know what we know about adoption and what we perceive are the big pros and cons for us.
Tomorrow, we’ll present the IVF issues.
Ok. Grab a cup of coffee because you might be here a while.
Last year, after the second miscarriage we started looking into international adoption as the way we’d build our family. Dave and I had often talked about adoption even when we were just dating thinking that we might be too old to get pregnant. That’s why when we got pregnant with Conor so quickly, it was a surprise.
So it was even more of a surprise was how much resistance I felt within myself when we started looking into international adoption. I know that international adoption is the preferred way for most American couples these days, but it, at least at that point, was not the path that was right for us to take.
Why? Breastfeeding. A very big part of my conception of myself as a mother involves breastfeeding and the bond that Conor and I have developed through my being able to feed him with my body. It would bother me tremendously if our second child did not get a chance to bond with me in that way.
Also, I know I’m not a developmental psychologist. Nonetheless, it concerns me what could happen (or not) in the first year (or two!) or so of a child’s life before we adopted him or her. Children are incredibly resilient. But our understanding is that many international adoptions occur with children at least a year old and often, you’ll be assigned your child and then still have to wait 6 months until you can go get him/her. With the likelihood high of me causing an international incident trying to hurry the process along, It just doesn’t feel like that’s the right path for us.
So, we put adoption on hold misguidedly thinking that we were too old for domestic adoption. Then we found out we were not too old and were thrilled to hear that people “our age” could domestically adopt infants.
Yes, most domestic adoptions are with infants, and the adoptive parents often take the child home with them from the hospital and sometimes are even in the birthing room with the biological mother. WOW! An infant that would come home with us within a few days of his/her birth! And we could breastfeed!! It’s not easy, but it’s certainly possible.
Also, it was crystal clear to us early in considering a domestic adoption that the child’s ethnicity did not matter to us at all. In fact, we were quite open to what is known as “transracial” adoption as well as biracial adoption. We don’t need for our adopted child to look like us. This helps the adoption process a lot. For one thing, it also makes the process much more likely to go quickly. By saying we’re open to all healthy children, we have many more opportunities to find our child.
However, there are still issues.
First, mothers change their minds. The process for domestic adoptions is that biological mothers look through the profiles (i.e., photograph albums) of a range of prospective parents working with an agency. Then she picks the family who could be the parents of her child. The adoptive parents and the bio mom most often meet and decide to proceed with the adoption. However, the bio mom has every right in the world to change her mind. And after birth, 20 to 50% of them do. (As a statistician, it bugs me that the agencies can’t give us exact numbers. It’s an objective data point: either the adoption placement did or did not occur. How many did not occur out of the total number of adoption processes that started? Easy peasy, folks.)
Second, it takes a long time. Catholic Social Services has quoted us at least a year for a healthy non-Caucasian child and well over 2 years for a healthy Caucasian child. A Child’s Hope in NC has suggested that it’s 6-12 months for an African American or an African American biracial child and well over a year for a Caucasian, Latino, or Asian American child. Adoption consultants, charging $2500 to represent you to up to 30 or 40 agencies around the country, can shorten the time for placement with some guaranteeing placement in less than a year. But we discovered that they tend to work for the most expensive agencies, and we just don’t have that kind of money. (We’ll talk about why we have ruled out foster care adoption at this point in our search in another blog)
So that takes us to drawback number 3: Money. Before I quote numbers, remember that in the US, you can take $10000 off your taxes the year you adopt. And this is right off your taxes, so it’s essentially a refund from the government for the adoption. Catholic Social Services (CSS) charges $12,500 for any and all adoptions. That is an appealing option. A Child’s Hope charges (I think) about $13,000 for an African American adoption, $15,000 for an African-American Biracial adoption and $23,000 for everyone else. (Does that information bother you? It should.) The agencies the consultants work with start at $23,000 for African-American adoptions and go on up to at least $35K to $50K for Caucasian adoptions. There can be additional charges for the mother’s living expenses and searching for the father to give up his rights for all of the agencies except CSS.
So CSS seems like a good option, no? It certainly does to us. They are also one of the few agencies that do not make you pay half the money up front and then the other half when/if you get the baby. CSS only has you pay upon placement of the baby. The problem is that it’s just no way of knowing how long it will be until we have a child placed with us. (6 months? 2 years??)
And I haven’t even started to address that adoption causes for the children of same ethnicity adoptions (e.g., abandonment) much less transracial adoptions (e.g., identity, feelings of difference) reported by adult transracial adoptees . There are no insurmountable issues involved here. It is clear to us that we would not back away from adoption because of these issues. In fact, we want to arm ourselves and protect our child from having to deal with this.
But in any case the adoptive family needs to take many extra, important steps to make sure they don’t screw it up. I’d argue this is even more an issue when there is already a biological child in the family. (A strike against us, btw, in having a bio mom choose us)
There is humor in this, as always. The funniest thing I’ve heard is that an advantage for transracial adoptees occurs when they are teenagers and their parents start acting like parents of teenagers do all the time: embarrassing their poor children. Transracial adoptees can act like they have no idea who those old embarrassing farts are and can generally get away with it! I think that’s a hoot!
So now you know what we know about adoption and what we perceive are the big pros and cons for us.
Tomorrow, we’ll present the IVF issues.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Anita Talks
Charlotteans: If you are in the local area today, I'm going to be on WFAE's Charlotte Talks discussing cocooning--how people use technology to stay at home and its effect on the community.
I'm a wee bit nervous. I think you'll also be able to listen on the archives later. But if I sound like a doof, I'm going to remove that link!
UPDATED: I only sounded like an idiot part of the time. The rest, I think I sounded only doofy. I now understand, in some small way, why actors never want to see themselves on screen.
I'm a wee bit nervous. I think you'll also be able to listen on the archives later. But if I sound like a doof, I'm going to remove that link!
UPDATED: I only sounded like an idiot part of the time. The rest, I think I sounded only doofy. I now understand, in some small way, why actors never want to see themselves on screen.
Monday, July 30, 2007
Show Off
On Friday, at daycare, Conor's teachers told us that they lined up the children, who still range in their skills, to go potty.
Conor was the last one in line. He sat a little longer than the others and pooped. Still being very, very proud of himself, he hopped off and announced to his classmates:
"That's how you do it, Warren*!"
*Name changed to protect the poopless.
Conor was the last one in line. He sat a little longer than the others and pooped. Still being very, very proud of himself, he hopped off and announced to his classmates:
"That's how you do it, Warren*!"
*Name changed to protect the poopless.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Well, Isn't That a Kick in the Head
We've got to teach our son some bed sharing manners. Although we do have many nights when he stays in his own bed all night long, if he has a bad dream, it's a hop, skip, and a jump to the big bed where he can sleep in the middle.
And we really don't mind. How could you possibly mind when dawn rolls around and he sighs "I want Mommy" and tucks his head under my neck, puts his arm over my ribs and gives me a little kiss.
That is awfully cute, no?
It's the bad dreams ("No, Wyatt! No!!" was last night's talking in his sleep) and the general rusting that is irritating. He wiggles, he twirls, and he kicks. Usually right in the ol' kidney.
I don't like waking up to being kicked in my kidney. It is not something I enjoy. In fact, I think the kidney kicking ended up in some dream of mine while I was in a HUMONGOUS condo in Manhatten (like several thousand square feet) that needed just a little work but was a bargain pricewise. I figured out why it was so cheap when I had to fight off the vampires who were going after Conor and me. (I've had a fantasy lately of being a Vampire Slayer. Think about it: don't you think Buffy and Willow could have helped out in the fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters?)
Anyhoo, a vampire was kicking me in the back at some point when in reality is was only my favorite cling-on Conor.
We've taken to mumbling in our sleep "Stop kicking! Stop twirling! Don't hit me in the head!"
Eventually he won't sleep with us nor kiss us when we make him "pay the troll" when he leaves the dinner table. It will all end and then we'll be left with just memories of his toddler snuggles at dawn in the big bed. And damaged kidneys.
And we really don't mind. How could you possibly mind when dawn rolls around and he sighs "I want Mommy" and tucks his head under my neck, puts his arm over my ribs and gives me a little kiss.
That is awfully cute, no?
It's the bad dreams ("No, Wyatt! No!!" was last night's talking in his sleep) and the general rusting that is irritating. He wiggles, he twirls, and he kicks. Usually right in the ol' kidney.
I don't like waking up to being kicked in my kidney. It is not something I enjoy. In fact, I think the kidney kicking ended up in some dream of mine while I was in a HUMONGOUS condo in Manhatten (like several thousand square feet) that needed just a little work but was a bargain pricewise. I figured out why it was so cheap when I had to fight off the vampires who were going after Conor and me. (I've had a fantasy lately of being a Vampire Slayer. Think about it: don't you think Buffy and Willow could have helped out in the fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters?)
Anyhoo, a vampire was kicking me in the back at some point when in reality is was only my favorite cling-on Conor.
We've taken to mumbling in our sleep "Stop kicking! Stop twirling! Don't hit me in the head!"
Eventually he won't sleep with us nor kiss us when we make him "pay the troll" when he leaves the dinner table. It will all end and then we'll be left with just memories of his toddler snuggles at dawn in the big bed. And damaged kidneys.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
One Thing Leads to Another
So we've been busy over here at the Mother Thing household recently, doing "things" behind the scenes. You may recall that last year, Dave and I did a small remodel on the "master" bathroom. Basically, we painted, bought some new shower curtains and hung a lovely over the toilet medicine cabinet. It was very pretty, as I have to say is evident in this picture.
However, we still had the ugly cheap vanity from one or two owners ago. But we figured we could live with that.
More importantly, though, we did NOT replace the bathtub determining that it would be too expensive. Why replace the bathtub? Well, just take a look.
And that picture only hints at the lovely green seafoam tiles that were also beginning to lose their white expoxy coating. Yes, the bathroom looked nice until one opened the shower curtain and saw the hideous green and pink colors the original owners put there. Because they were 1) cheap and 2) color blind. The screams from our guests who used this bathroom were deafening. And somewhat amusing because the bathroom looked so nice from the outside.
Hating this tub with a passion and knowing that if we ever sold it, buyers would demand a boatload of money off the asking price, we did a full bathroom remodel last month.
Yes, I do mean full. We hired contractors to gut the room and take away that hideous tub and tile wall. Then we installed a new tub, subway tiling on the walls, and a transparent door on the bathtub, a trick we learned from This Old House to make a small bathroom look bigger. (There is no longer a curtain to stop the line-of-sight, dontcha know).
We also got a new toilet and vanity with enough storage that I have moved out of the Bathroom formerly known as BUB (Butt Ugly Bathroom) and into our new Grown Up Bathroom.
Oh. My. Lord.
There is space. And light. And storage. I have a drawer to put my make up in for the first time since my last undergraduate apartment. I am so thrilled! And really, I feel like a grown up! I never realized how much influence my bathroom had on my self-image, but clearly, there's a relationship!
Of course, as part of remodeling the bathroom, we moved the futon out of the den to the office, moved my old sofa from the living room to the den and then had to buy a new sofa for the living room that just arrived yesterday. We also completely reorganized our kitchen cabinets as a convoluted outcome of the bathroom remodel.
So I guess chaos theory in our case means "If a butterfly flaps its wings in our bathroom, I will get a new sofa."
Oh, and IVF is back on the table. More about that later.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Harry Potter
I have no spoilers and I will blog no spoilers.
Nonetheless, I am VERY EXCITED to receive our Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book on Saturday. I'm honestly thinking about Harry et al a great deal lately. I just finished book 6 again, and have redigested the shock that that books ending.
One, I think that Snape is not nearly as bad as we think he is (although he does suck loudly right now). I also think we are going to find a previously unknown relationship of Snape to Lilly Potter that will explain a great deal.
Two, I don't think Harry is going to die. That's just too mean for what is still essentially a children's book. Remember, Harry ain't Tony Soprano.
Three, I anticipate rereading the whole series of books at least one more time in the next few years. Rereading them does highlight some of the flaws. But then it also shows JK Rowling's genius on occasion, too.
And I'm sure few of you out there were watching Dr. Who last Friday night and got all the references to the Harry Potter series. You just cannot possibly be as geeky as we are. Nonetheless, the witches looked like dementors. And Expeliarmus was the final word that sent the witches back to their own universe. Dave and I thought that was hysterical.
After I finish the book, I'll post it on the blog so that others who want to discuss it but don't want to be a spoiler can email and we can rant and rave about everything that happened.
I can't wait!
Nonetheless, I am VERY EXCITED to receive our Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows book on Saturday. I'm honestly thinking about Harry et al a great deal lately. I just finished book 6 again, and have redigested the shock that that books ending.
One, I think that Snape is not nearly as bad as we think he is (although he does suck loudly right now). I also think we are going to find a previously unknown relationship of Snape to Lilly Potter that will explain a great deal.
Two, I don't think Harry is going to die. That's just too mean for what is still essentially a children's book. Remember, Harry ain't Tony Soprano.
Three, I anticipate rereading the whole series of books at least one more time in the next few years. Rereading them does highlight some of the flaws. But then it also shows JK Rowling's genius on occasion, too.
And I'm sure few of you out there were watching Dr. Who last Friday night and got all the references to the Harry Potter series. You just cannot possibly be as geeky as we are. Nonetheless, the witches looked like dementors. And Expeliarmus was the final word that sent the witches back to their own universe. Dave and I thought that was hysterical.
After I finish the book, I'll post it on the blog so that others who want to discuss it but don't want to be a spoiler can email and we can rant and rave about everything that happened.
I can't wait!
Meditation Fatigue
Yesterday, during my morning meditation, I tried a new practice focusing on mindfulness, that is, becoming aware of the state of oneself. During this practice, one starts first by focusing in one's sensations and perceptions from the 5 senses: what sitting feels like, what you hear, what you taste, etc. Then after mastering that practice, you move to focusing on what one feels emotionally.
It's a good practice for just becoming aware. And I did have a mini-revelation when I realized that I hadn't noticed "hearing" the air conditioner, despite it being the loudest sound in the room, until it turned off.
But the more revealing part of the meditation came when I focused on what I was "feeling." The book suggests naming the emotions one encounters: joy, fear, anxiety, resentment, anger. (I suppose negative ones hang around more than positive ones)
So I sat there feeling inward and waiting to name my emotions.
"I feel tired."
Is that really an emotion? Stop talking! Listen to your breathing again.
"I feel tired. Really, really tired."
Stop it!
"Feeling tired."
"Tired"
Breathe. Listen to your breath.
"Still really tired."
So, I went to bed early last night.
It's a good practice for just becoming aware. And I did have a mini-revelation when I realized that I hadn't noticed "hearing" the air conditioner, despite it being the loudest sound in the room, until it turned off.
But the more revealing part of the meditation came when I focused on what I was "feeling." The book suggests naming the emotions one encounters: joy, fear, anxiety, resentment, anger. (I suppose negative ones hang around more than positive ones)
So I sat there feeling inward and waiting to name my emotions.
"I feel tired."
Is that really an emotion? Stop talking! Listen to your breathing again.
"I feel tired. Really, really tired."
Stop it!
"Feeling tired."
"Tired"
Breathe. Listen to your breath.
"Still really tired."
So, I went to bed early last night.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Conor's Birthday Party
Yesterday was Conor's birthday party. I don't know how to narrate this blog except 1) the child is growing up way too fast and 2) I had a blast at it.We were supposed to be outside and have a "wading pool" party, but a thunderstorm blew up and blew apart that plan. Fortunately, at this age, all (we think) the kids need for fun is someone else's toys. Of course, we may be entirely lame parents, but they seemed to have fun and they seemed to enjoy The Cake.
Yes, The Cake. I am most proud of The Cake I made. Indeed, see the picture below.
I made that! And I'm not crafty at all!! It's supposed to be a Curious George cake, if you must ask. But nonetheless, it's at least a good monkey! I used a Wilton Animal Crackers Cake Pan and moved the bear's ears to make a monkey. (Cake evolution theory at its finest)Have I told you of Conor's love of Curious George? That every night we have to tell him stories about Conor and Curious George? And they have to begin with "Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Conor who had pretty curly hair" and then quickly move on to how he and Curious George went golfing, played at the beach or built a tree house? Conor's cousin speaks daily about how he and Conor had fun when they visited over Thanksgiving. And our poor son is obsessed with a cartoon creatue.
In any case, it helped us figure out this year's birthday theme.
Not everyone in the house is a fan o' CG. I love how Patches is trying to tattletale on this toy (Curious George on a firetruck).
Friday, July 13, 2007
Oh, Just Lots of Things
We had another "event" this month. I will probably refer to this as the Month Where I Used A Gazillion HPTs. I took a test on Monday afternoon and got the faintest of faintest lines on my First Response Early Response (FRER) test. In case you were wondering, that was 9 dpo, so it was very early and certainly reasonable to have a faint line.
However the next morning, 10 dpo, it was still way too faint and I knew it wasn't going to stick. Nonetheless, I took another test Tuesday afternoon with an Accu-clear (which I've later found out was panned on Peeonastick.com) and still had that faint line. By this point, I'd broken down and let Dave inspect the sticks, too, instead of saving the test for a big "You're Going to Be a Daddy" surprise, which one might admit is pretty foolish at this point. In any case, he saw a line, too.
And BECAUSE I AM PATHETICALLY OPTIMISTIC, I took another Accu-clear test on Weds morning, 11 dpo, and finally got a faint but clearly visible positive test line. It was gone by Thursday morning (12 dpo) when I peed again on a FRER. I won't even mention the three tests I took Weds afternoon with one positive (FRER) and two negative (Answer, New Choice/Dollar Store).
I am my own HPT testing lab. And I'm sticking with FRER because I think they are still the most sensitive. However, if I was really pregnant, then all of them would be flaming with two hot pink lines right now and it wouldn't really matter which test I used.
So there. Bleah and crap. I continue on my quest to be the oldest miscarrying freak of a woman in these United States this year.
In other news, we have an evil bunny indulging him/herself in a fresh vegetable garden buffet every night. It's amazing how this rabbit can eat the insides of a tomato clean out and leaving a soon-to-be rotting hull on the vine. Oh, what a talented bunny haunts our garden. At least it's not a rat. (And I just realized that I didn't blog about our rat problem from the spring. Hmmmm. Go figure)
I like not this bunny. And I like not our dog who lets this bunny run free in our garden. It is shocking that Patches lets the bunny roam, much less live, considering the incident with the bird and the other bunny. I know he's an older dog now but he still chases squirrels around the yard, and God(dess) forbid that Scarlett should do anything out of the ordinary because he'll rat her out in tail wag. Speaking of rats, I should have realized his hunting days were over when he did nothing as a rat ran across his paws and under the deck earlier this spring (see Rat Problem, above). Yes, nothing more than a quizzical look from our bird killing dog should have been my first clue that He Has Changed.
We try and try to explain to him: Scarlett, good! Don't bite or bark at. Birds, good! Let live!! Rats, bad. Attack! Bunnies in garden, bad, Bad, BAD! KILL BUNNY, KILL!
And on a big change of subjects but more on my mind that evil bunnies, I believe we are going with Catholic Social Services for our domestic adoption. I promise you that soon I will devote an entire blog on how FREAKIN' confusing adoption is, the range of prices that are out there and why, and why we are making the decisions that we are making. I keep making these offhanded comments about what we are doing on this adoption journey, but each decision point we get to is really, really hard.
But enough for this Friday post. I wonder why I always blog my longest on Fridays because no one comes around to read it. If you are here on Friday, well, thank you for stopping by!! I do miss having your company on Fridays.
Have a good weekend, y'all!
Oh, one last thing: it is one of my biggest pet peeves when people misspell y'all. It is the contraction of You All. You All: Y'all. It is NOT the contraction of Ya All. What the hell is that?? Ya All? Ya'll?!?!?
The only time the "ll" goes by itself is when you are contracting: You All Will. That becomes Y'all'll. Yes, that is a word. We use it all the time down here when we are inquiring about others' plans in the future. "Y'all'll be at the park on Sunday? We will, too! See you there!"
However the next morning, 10 dpo, it was still way too faint and I knew it wasn't going to stick. Nonetheless, I took another test Tuesday afternoon with an Accu-clear (which I've later found out was panned on Peeonastick.com) and still had that faint line. By this point, I'd broken down and let Dave inspect the sticks, too, instead of saving the test for a big "You're Going to Be a Daddy" surprise, which one might admit is pretty foolish at this point. In any case, he saw a line, too.
And BECAUSE I AM PATHETICALLY OPTIMISTIC, I took another Accu-clear test on Weds morning, 11 dpo, and finally got a faint but clearly visible positive test line. It was gone by Thursday morning (12 dpo) when I peed again on a FRER. I won't even mention the three tests I took Weds afternoon with one positive (FRER) and two negative (Answer, New Choice/Dollar Store).
I am my own HPT testing lab. And I'm sticking with FRER because I think they are still the most sensitive. However, if I was really pregnant, then all of them would be flaming with two hot pink lines right now and it wouldn't really matter which test I used.
So there. Bleah and crap. I continue on my quest to be the oldest miscarrying freak of a woman in these United States this year.
In other news, we have an evil bunny indulging him/herself in a fresh vegetable garden buffet every night. It's amazing how this rabbit can eat the insides of a tomato clean out and leaving a soon-to-be rotting hull on the vine. Oh, what a talented bunny haunts our garden. At least it's not a rat. (And I just realized that I didn't blog about our rat problem from the spring. Hmmmm. Go figure)
I like not this bunny. And I like not our dog who lets this bunny run free in our garden. It is shocking that Patches lets the bunny roam, much less live, considering the incident with the bird and the other bunny. I know he's an older dog now but he still chases squirrels around the yard, and God(dess) forbid that Scarlett should do anything out of the ordinary because he'll rat her out in tail wag. Speaking of rats, I should have realized his hunting days were over when he did nothing as a rat ran across his paws and under the deck earlier this spring (see Rat Problem, above). Yes, nothing more than a quizzical look from our bird killing dog should have been my first clue that He Has Changed.
We try and try to explain to him: Scarlett, good! Don't bite or bark at. Birds, good! Let live!! Rats, bad. Attack! Bunnies in garden, bad, Bad, BAD! KILL BUNNY, KILL!
And on a big change of subjects but more on my mind that evil bunnies, I believe we are going with Catholic Social Services for our domestic adoption. I promise you that soon I will devote an entire blog on how FREAKIN' confusing adoption is, the range of prices that are out there and why, and why we are making the decisions that we are making. I keep making these offhanded comments about what we are doing on this adoption journey, but each decision point we get to is really, really hard.
But enough for this Friday post. I wonder why I always blog my longest on Fridays because no one comes around to read it. If you are here on Friday, well, thank you for stopping by!! I do miss having your company on Fridays.
Have a good weekend, y'all!
Oh, one last thing: it is one of my biggest pet peeves when people misspell y'all. It is the contraction of You All. You All: Y'all. It is NOT the contraction of Ya All. What the hell is that?? Ya All? Ya'll?!?!?
The only time the "ll" goes by itself is when you are contracting: You All Will. That becomes Y'all'll. Yes, that is a word. We use it all the time down here when we are inquiring about others' plans in the future. "Y'all'll be at the park on Sunday? We will, too! See you there!"
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Trees
Here is a picture (from the Charlotte Observer) of one of the trees from the VanLandingham estate that went down in the storm last week. It was truly as impressive in person as it appears in this picture.
Things are almost back to normal now, except for all the squashed houses, porches and roofs still left in the 'hood.
Monday, July 09, 2007
Big A$$ Storm
I've tried to think of some clever way of titling this entry: Stormy Weather (which only sounds clever if you're singing it. Well, at least in my head, it sounds clever) or Third World Neighborhood (a reference which may become clear later). But I'm clearly not clever enough for a good title, so I'll just cuss.
We had a bad storm this weekend. Now, I know you're thinking, "Yeah....summer....thunderstorms????" But this was a wee bit more. When I looked outside and saw the wall of water and the limbs (!) and leaves flying across the yard, I thought something must be up. And when I say "Limbs (!) and leaves flying" I mean small trees were sailing around our house like the Wicked Witch of the West.
By the time this 30 minute (!) storm ended, we had between 1 1/2 and 2 inches of rain, and the neighbor a few doors down on my left's car? Crushed by a humongo tree. The neighbor a few doors down on the right? Well, that was a two-fer: a giant tree crushed the addition of one house and knocked in the roof of another. Our friends, who had just had their house remodeled and moved back into it only in December, had their car and front porch crushed by an uprooted, HEALTHY tree. Thas the weird part: in many storms, you can expect the rotted trees to fall. in this storm, healthy trees fell. And it's not like the ground was saturated with water; we've had nothing for at least a week.
Apparently, it was a microburst: A short, very strong storm with winds, they estimate in our case, at between 60 and 70 mph.
Of course we lost our power for about 12 hours. (Hence the third world reference). Although 12 hours is short for us. We've lost power for over 7 days in the winter. I'd like to confirm for you that yes, indeedy, that sucked.
On a better note, after the storm, our neighborhood was packed. Everyone was lining the streets and the sidewalks to compare damage and shock over the storm as well as check in on each other. As the article says above, I really do love my neighborhood, even if I did have a tree on my house.
We had a bad storm this weekend. Now, I know you're thinking, "Yeah....summer....thunderstorms????" But this was a wee bit more. When I looked outside and saw the wall of water and the limbs (!) and leaves flying across the yard, I thought something must be up. And when I say "Limbs (!) and leaves flying" I mean small trees were sailing around our house like the Wicked Witch of the West.
By the time this 30 minute (!) storm ended, we had between 1 1/2 and 2 inches of rain, and the neighbor a few doors down on my left's car? Crushed by a humongo tree. The neighbor a few doors down on the right? Well, that was a two-fer: a giant tree crushed the addition of one house and knocked in the roof of another. Our friends, who had just had their house remodeled and moved back into it only in December, had their car and front porch crushed by an uprooted, HEALTHY tree. Thas the weird part: in many storms, you can expect the rotted trees to fall. in this storm, healthy trees fell. And it's not like the ground was saturated with water; we've had nothing for at least a week.
Apparently, it was a microburst: A short, very strong storm with winds, they estimate in our case, at between 60 and 70 mph.
Of course we lost our power for about 12 hours. (Hence the third world reference). Although 12 hours is short for us. We've lost power for over 7 days in the winter. I'd like to confirm for you that yes, indeedy, that sucked.
On a better note, after the storm, our neighborhood was packed. Everyone was lining the streets and the sidewalks to compare damage and shock over the storm as well as check in on each other. As the article says above, I really do love my neighborhood, even if I did have a tree on my house.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Milestones
Conor turns 3 next week.
We are about completely out of pullups. Last night was the easiest poopie on the potty yet. And the cheers continue with the "I DID it!!!" raising of the arms in victory after the big poop. And that's just Dave.
I've been waiting to make that joke for a while now.
We had our first overnight underwear and we were surprised with wet sheets this morning, but I think that is going to be the rare event. He's been dry most nights for the last month. We just see the end in sight.
Speaking of endings, have you been wondering what's up with the boobs lately? You must be because I have not spoken of them. Well, we are thisclose from total wean. We're down to about 10-20 seconds per boob at night followed by half a mini-bagel and water while I rock him. Mini-bagels have indeed turned into his comfort food: yesterday he fell and hit his lip and wanted a bagel to soothe him.
I know we've been bfing for a long time for Americans, but it has worked for us. It was the right thing for our family. I'd say that pretty soon we'll just be at the bagel and not at boobie. I don't think I will be sad about it. I know of Moms who are very sad when they stop bfing. I think we've gone past that point and we/I are just ready for snuggles and cuddles without bosomies involved.
Oh, and on a somewhat different note, did you see the article yesterday in the NY Times about how children cause parents to cut back on their exercise? One look at my butt could have told you that. It was hardest when Conor was really young and I couldn't leave the house for any distance of a run because he was solely breastfeeding. Some running women would get up, pump, and then go for their run. I was too damn lazy to do all that work, so I got out of my running habit for his first year or so and I've never really gotten back into it. (Hence why my booty is the size of Rhode Island). Dave is still in shape although like the article says, he doesn't exercise nearly as much. Still, he's thin and I'm huge. And even when I'm running more than he is, he can beat me on our regular route.
Since I'm not convinced I'm going to have another biological child, I've decided to just go ahead and get back into shape even if I am "running" my old routes slower and with more walking than I'd like. If I don't start doing it, I'll never get back to the place I'm supposed to be. And my butt will continue to grow until I have to go buy another closet full of bigger Mom jeans. And who wants that?
We are about completely out of pullups. Last night was the easiest poopie on the potty yet. And the cheers continue with the "I DID it!!!" raising of the arms in victory after the big poop. And that's just Dave.
I've been waiting to make that joke for a while now.
We had our first overnight underwear and we were surprised with wet sheets this morning, but I think that is going to be the rare event. He's been dry most nights for the last month. We just see the end in sight.
Speaking of endings, have you been wondering what's up with the boobs lately? You must be because I have not spoken of them. Well, we are thisclose from total wean. We're down to about 10-20 seconds per boob at night followed by half a mini-bagel and water while I rock him. Mini-bagels have indeed turned into his comfort food: yesterday he fell and hit his lip and wanted a bagel to soothe him.
I know we've been bfing for a long time for Americans, but it has worked for us. It was the right thing for our family. I'd say that pretty soon we'll just be at the bagel and not at boobie. I don't think I will be sad about it. I know of Moms who are very sad when they stop bfing. I think we've gone past that point and we/I are just ready for snuggles and cuddles without bosomies involved.
Oh, and on a somewhat different note, did you see the article yesterday in the NY Times about how children cause parents to cut back on their exercise? One look at my butt could have told you that. It was hardest when Conor was really young and I couldn't leave the house for any distance of a run because he was solely breastfeeding. Some running women would get up, pump, and then go for their run. I was too damn lazy to do all that work, so I got out of my running habit for his first year or so and I've never really gotten back into it. (Hence why my booty is the size of Rhode Island). Dave is still in shape although like the article says, he doesn't exercise nearly as much. Still, he's thin and I'm huge. And even when I'm running more than he is, he can beat me on our regular route.
Since I'm not convinced I'm going to have another biological child, I've decided to just go ahead and get back into shape even if I am "running" my old routes slower and with more walking than I'd like. If I don't start doing it, I'll never get back to the place I'm supposed to be. And my butt will continue to grow until I have to go buy another closet full of bigger Mom jeans. And who wants that?
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