Saturday, September 24, 2011

16 months old

Happy 16 months, little boy. You are my sunshine.


I haven't written in a while. My head has been full, cloudy, sometimes dark. There have been days where nothing at all went wrong, yet at the end of it I feel as if I had a bad day. Every negative thing around me -- news stories, other people's blogs, political rhetoric, a world full of propaganda, other drivers, the way the sun hits my eyes -- every small thing that shouldn't bother me is a heavy weight. I want to shut everything out sometimes, but don't know how or why or what to say. It makes me quiet.

Some days, I think the only reason I speak is to encourage Fletcher to say words, something he continues to have no interest in. It makes it hard to know how to respond to his poor behavior. How do you teach someone who has no verbal communication? Do I have to go all Helen Keller on this boy?

Fortunately for him, he's very cute.



See? I can't really get mad at that face. And when he turns those big eyes on me?

This boy is going to break hearts.

Our only news item is he did finally get his blood drawn and we have his allergy results -- he's badly allergic to peanuts, and mildly allergic to wheat and egg white. How exactly do you keep a toddler away from wheat and egg? How exactly do people pay for things like allergists and epi pens? Screw you, allergies.













Monday, September 19, 2011

1DPO powerlessness

September 19, 2011

One day post ovulation. This is it. Either conception is happening right now, or my ovum is dying. And absolutely nothing I do now can affect whether a life is created or... nothing.

Each cycle, this is always a strange day. Interesting... yet boring. Exciting in its possibilities... yet frustrating in its powerlessness.

While I'm trying to conceive, time every day is set aside for "managing" fertility – time spent taking my BBT and charting it on a graph, monitoring CM, noting cramps and other symptoms, investigating my LPD and treatment options. It's excessive, and I do it so that I have control.

For the rest of my cycle, having no control over anything is beyond difficult.

I Googled "powerlessness" out of curiosity. What better way to take control of it? I learned that feelings of powerlessness may cause depression, anxiety, outbursts of anger, alienation from others, or physical symptoms. My interpretation of the four steps for dealing with it is: realize that powerlessness does not always equal hopelessness, admit powerlessness, evaluate where you are, and find out where you're going.

The only step I have a hard time with today is the first. Hope should be the wonderful thing about 1 DPO, but it has let me down many times. I have no power, I am forced into waiting yet again, and the only good thing I have – hope – is going to come back and bite me.

1 DPO. 10 days to go. Tick tock.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

CD9 It can wait

September 13, 2011

I've been trying not to think too much about our failure to conceive or the whole process in general. While (normally) anticipation is half the fun, when it comes to trying to conceive, this stretch of time just feels like one big annoying failure.

Logical Side of Brain says: It can wait. We don't need a baby immediately 9 months from now. It can WAIT.

I love being able to focus completely on Fletcher and it's going to break my heart the first time he realizes that he has to share his parents. It's hard enough keeping one safe and fed and clean and happy. How are we going to do two at the same time?

It can WAIT.

I can't remember getting 8 hours of sleep in one night. Maybe six months ago I managed? I don't know. I can't remember not feeling exhausted. And someday, when there is a toddler and a newborn, I'll have even less sleep.

It can WAIT.

Yet...

Stupid Side of Brain says: Baby! I want a baby! And two weeks from now, I'm going to use up a dozen pregnancy tests and get upset when each damn one is negative.

This really should be more fun.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

hard things

I get frustrated. I need more patience.

Mainly, I don't want to be yelled at. I don't want Fletcher to be unhappy with me or mean to me. Even though he doesn't know he's hurting me, even though I know he's just tired from missing his nap, I have limits before it just hurts too much.

The solution is to keep him well-rested and well-fed, but that's not always possible.

No matter what mood he's in or how thin my patience, I will keep my promise to always do what's best for him, even if it means handing him off to his father and feeling guilty for not being able to take it. I get it now, the hard things you have to do out of love. Hard for me. Hard for him. There will be many more. It is worth it.


putting on daddy's shoes


okay, I'm ready!


going swimming!


strings


look what I can do!