Tomorrow Is Another Day...

Thanksgiving in Review

Such a good week I've had!  Things have been busy, busy, busy and I feel like I could nap until the end of time.  My parents got in on Monday evening, and Tuesday I did a little babysitting then came home in time for Thanksgiving grocery shopping then happy hour and dinner.  Wednesday we kicked off the Thanksgiving cooking and baking extravaganza, then went out to dinner and saw the Charleston Jazz Orchestra's Holiday Swing, one of my newest and most favorite Christmas traditions.

We got a ton of prep done on Wednesday, so on Thanksgiving morning we had a little time to relax before we got back to the kitchen.  I was hosting at my house, and my friends brought some sides, but we were in charge of the turkey, desserts, appetizers, drinks, and when one of my friends got sick and couldn't make it, we also inherited the stuffing.  We were frying the turkey, so we made a rub and injection and put my dad in charge of turkey operations.  Dessert consisted of these absolutely incredible S'mores Cookie Bars (thanks, Pinterest!) and Martha Stewart's Triple Chocolate Pumpkin pie.
Our fried turkey turned out absolutely SUBLIME.  It was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside and SO flavorful.  We had a very minor mishap when dunking the bird into the bubbling oil--because there was still so much of the injection retained, there was a bit of a liquid/oil overflow leaving my driveway with forever memories of a wonderful holiday.  We also had a lot of fun seeing Thanksgiving through new eyes as one of my friends who joined us is from Australia, so needed the full history lesson to fully understand why Americans gorge themselves on turkey and pumpkin pie annually.

With Thanksgiving behind us, I enjoyed a wonderful weekend with my parents, relaxing and recovering from the holiday prep, watching LSU beat Arkansas in the Battle for the Boot, fitting in a bit of tourism with a visit to the Hunley, and taking care of the turkey leftovers by making a delicious turkey, sausage, gumbo!  It made a vat big enough to feed an army, so we ate what we could, put some in the refrigerator, then froze about a third of it for when Colby comes home.

Now they're off in Disney World and I'm back to real life for a week, working, running errands that fell by the wayside, and resting up for their return on Friday evening!  They'll be here for the week so that they can bring me to my hysteroscopy on the 7th and then monitor me for the next day to make sure I don't have any nasty reactions to the anesthesia.

I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving (if you reside in the States, that is!).  Anyone else host at their house?  Did you go home for the holiday?  Can't wait to catch up on all of your holiday adventures :)  And now, ONTO CHRISTMAS!!!

Workaholic

I've never been much of a go-getter when it comes to career aspirations.  Mainly because I've never quite figured out what sort of career actually appeals to me.  Well, scratch that, I find the prospect of being an author quite appealing, but we can all see how well that's going.

When I've had a job, I've done my best and worked my hardest to do it well, but ultimately, money was the only reason I was working, not any sense of personal satisfaction.  I wanted to have the means to do the things I like to do--go out to incredible restaurants, travel, go shopping, own pets, maintain a home that I love.  When it became apparent that we could afford to do all of those things as well as funnel money into savings and investments, I immediately became much less motivated to spend my days earning a paycheck.  I don't think that made me worthless to society--I diverted the energy I'd spent in a meaningless office job or exhausting myself wrangling kids into a graduate school, keeping our house clean and organized, improving my health through fitness and a better diet with healthier home cooked meals, and appreciated the flexibility I had to spend time with Colby when he was home.

Then came the IVF bomb, and the knowledge that our financial landscape was going to change drastically for the forseeable future.  We created a savings plan, part of which was that I would go back to earning a paycheck to soften the multi-thousand dollar blow.  My foray into babysitting has gone better than I ever could have hoped.  It's been less than three weeks since I started working, and I'm aready about one third of my way to the five month earning goal I set for myself.  I don't think that's an entirely sustainable pace, but I'm excited to be off to a stellar start.

What this is all leading up to is how my attitude toward working has changed.  I am motivated to work, not only for the paycheck, but for what that paycheck represents beyond money in the bank.  Each dollar I earn gets me closer to having a baby.  Each extra dollar that we make over our goal is second or third round of medications, an adorable crib with the perfect bedding, a precious onesie, or maybe even a second crib.

I've become entirely fixated on finding hours to work and cutting costs where ever possible.  If I'm not working, I'm scouring postings to find a job and applying to positions.  In the past, I've jetted off to visit friends or family without much thought to the cost, but when it became evident that one of the trips I had planned for the upcoming months was going to be far outside of our budget, I had to make the incredibly difficult decision to cancel.  It was hard because I am so heartbroken not to be able to visit a friend that I haven't seen in over a year, but I knew in my broken heart that it was ultimately the right decision and will get us that much closer to our goal.

I made plans to go home for three weeks over the holidays, and recently the thought of going three weeks without a job has given me severe anxiety.  But then I was offered an incredible babysitting opportunity in South Carolina for the week of New Year's, and I simply can't pass it up.  The old Angela would never have cut a vacation short and agreed to working over the holidays, but the new Angela sees it as just another step in the right direction.  The opportunity to breathe a little easier, and feel a little more financially stable.

It doesn't hurt that I'm incredibly competitive--even with myself--and when I set a goal, I feel reasonably certain I will die if I don't achieve it.

In other news, I went to see Breaking Dawn on Sunday, and it fulfilled my comedy quotient for the week.  Seriously, those telepathic werewolves.  Doesn't get much funnier than that.  I think the film's greatest achievement was how seamlessly it was able to transition from incredibly cheesy to incredibly boring to incredibly disgusting.  Well done, indeed!  The vampire baby was cute though.  Spoiler alert.

Ups and Downs: The I'm Still Here Edition!

Down: Clearly I abandoned NaBloPoMo.  I was all excited to participate, because when I did it a few years ago, I found lots of fun blogs and got some extra readers round these parts.  Sadly, this time it just feels incredibly impersonal, and I've had all of ONE hit from the extensive list of over 2000 participants.  I've also been feeling like blogging has been a "job" and I always promised myself that I'd never allow that to happen.  Blogging should be footloose and fancy free.  Unless someone starts paying me.  Anyone?  Bueller?
Up: That doesn't mean I've given up blogging altogether, just that I shan't be clogging up your Reader/Facebook/Twitter feed every bloody day.  I think we can all toast to that!

Down: Colby and I have had really rotten luck with the phones since he deployed.  He's been gone for just over three weeks now, and we've only managed to have one successful phone conversation.
Up: At least we got one phone call!  I try to remember how lucky we are to have all of the methods of communication that we do have available to us, and how much harder it would have been in the days of only being able to write a letter to the last known address and hoping it got there.  We got to talk for about 30 minutes on Wednesday, and it was glorious!  Here's hoping the internet continues to cooperate and we can do that again before another 3 weeks goes by.

Down: I've been so busy, I've really been letting the house go instead of sticking to my daily housekeeping chores.  I had some time to get things together today, but I've got a ways to go before my parents get in town on Monday.
Up: I've been so busy!  And my parents will be here in three days!  It really is amazing how much faster the time goes by when I'm not sitting around feeling sorry for myself.  Instead, I've been babysitting almost every day, spending time with friends, squeezing in lots of runs, and working on my Thanksgiving and Christmas to-do lists--I even made room in the budget (because I bought the tickets a month ago before there WAS a budget) to go see the national tour of In The Heights.  It made me wish I was a super sexy Latina!

Only Up!: Speaking of Thanksgiving, I'm SO excited to be hosting the big dinner at my house next week!  My parents will be in town and a few of my "single spouse" friends will be coming over with their kids to help us celebrate and feast!  I'll be talking more about my Turkey Day plans next week, but for now I need to hit the road for a seven mile run (hold me) and gear up for a working weekend.  Hasta luego mis amigos!

Grief

I know.  I know.  You're sitting there thinking, how many more words can this girl possibly write about infertility?  I can understand this sentiment, because quite frankly, I get sick of thinking about it myself.  I wish I could empty my brains of all the feelings and thoughts and feelings that are taking over my every waking moment.  Because, you see, there are so many feelings.

I've never been a particularly sensitive person.  This personality trait led to a great many moments of discord growing up with a mother and a sister who are more sensitive than a bundle of raw nerves.  I rarely went out of my way to be mean, but I would consistently make comments or behave in ways that branded me as "thoughtless".  As I grew older and slightly more mature I learned that it took just a little extra effort for me to be thoughtful and compassionate toward other people's feelings.  It's not that I don't ever feel sad or hurt or misunderstood--I have an entire blog category dedicated to my struggles with depression--it's just that I often have trouble communicating these feelings, or even understanding them myself, so to avoid dealing with them I pour them into a neat little bottle and pack them away into a deep, dark corner of my psyche.

So, it's not that I don't have feelings, it's just that I get very uncomfortable acknowledging or expressing my feelings in anything but writing.

But ever since it began to dawn on us that making a baby wasn't going to be quite the hey presto experience we were expecting, all of that has changed.  I am constantly feeling sad, or angry, or hopeful, or bitter, or jealous, or betrayed, or worried, or any number of other complicated emotions that I can't just power through, dash off a blog post about and carry on with my life.  I spring rapidly from one feeling to the next, leaving me with a sense of emotional whiplash.  One minute I'll be feeling optimistic or even excited about our fertility treatment plan, so then why do I suddenly want to punch that woman who is complaining about her child?  Or, I was just feeling incredibly guilty about how my anger has gotten the better of me once more, promising myself that I will find better ways to channel my emotions than through jealousy and bitterness, and now I want to write a scathing Facebook post about pregnant women who think they can just go out in public any old time walking around all PREGNANT.  Or hey, maybe we'll miraculously get pregnant in that one last cycle after Colby gets home, and then we won't have to worry about any of this!  And then I'm right back to this is all so fucking unfair, woe is meeeeeee, I hate the world today.

I never know how I'm going to feel when I wake up in the morning.  I dread falling asleep because I don't know if I can handle another dream where I discover I'm pregnant or am joyfully juggling twins, only to wake up and find myself just as babyless as ever.  There are days where I feel a sense of lightness, because we have this figured out and I am excited for the future.  Then there are days where I wonder how anybody can look at me and not see that I am falling apart.

This weekend, I somehow landed on a website detailing Kubler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief.

Denial
Anger
Bargaining
Depression
Acceptance

Anyone who has taken an Intro to Psych class has seen these before, but seeing it there in writing, just as I was going through it... it was as though the clouds parted, and I had a sudden moment of clarity.  Even though I'm not mourning a death, I am going through the most classic stages of grief.  In a sense, mourning the loss of a dream.  The dream I have had since I was a little girl of growing up, falling in love, having a baby.  On my own terms.  

Is it certainly possible, even likely, that there will be a child or children at the end of this path we're on?  Yes.  But I can guarandamntee you that when I was pouring my heart out at slumber parties, none of my rosy scenarios involved painful daily hormone injections, cleaning out my savings account since my supposedly stellar insurance plan doesn't cover the one major medical procedure my body needs in order to function semi-properly because it's "elective", and creating the miracle of life in a petri dish.

The article stated that though these are the most common stages of grief, there is not necessarily a linear progression through them.  And while you may spend just a minute in one stage, you could spend days, weeks or months in another.  I suppose it's a good sign that I have, if only in the briefest of moments, flirted with feelings of acceptance.  It doesn't mean that I'm happy, or joyful about our circumstances, but I do acknowledge that it is our circumstance, whether we like it or not.

Unfortunately, I'm still spending most of my time ping ponging between anger and depression.  I feel sick to my stomach when I hear about a pregnancy.  I have countless moments of bitterness toward other mothers who express completely valid frustrations of their own.  I feel furious at an insurance company that is failing us so deplorably.  I want to scream at the unfairness of a world where a drug addict, alcoholic, or a teenager can get pregnant on accident, while a loving, financially secure, educated, mature couple has to undergo invasive medical procedures for just the glimmer of hope that an embryo might implant.  I even cringe at the merest possiblity of yet another character on tv announcing a pregnancy.  I don't go around melting down in public or punching people, but the anger and sadness is almost always there, simmering just below the surface of day to day life.

I have no doubt that this is just a miniscule taste of the emotionally and physically draining mountain that I still have to climb--I can't even think about what a mess I'm going to be when I'm hopped up on hormones and stress.  I have so many worries and fears about the path that we've set before us, and I think that the anger, while also a natural reaction to a shity situation, is a defense mechanism.  I don't know how long it will take before I land permanently on acceptance--honestly, it may be never--but I cannot give up and allow myself to be swallowed up by bitterness and anger.  I know that I have to keep going and cling desperately to whatever shreds of hope I can find.  But I have to feel my feelings.  I have to accept them as valid emotions, and let myself go through this.  Everyone tells me that at the end of the day, I will look back on this and it will all have been worth it.  It will all be worth it.

"After climbing a great hill, one only finds there are more hills to climb. I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of the glorious vista that surrounds me and to look back on the distance I have come. But I dare not linger and can rest only for a moment, for my long walk is not ended." ~Nelson Mandela

"Hope is like a bird that senses the dawn and carefully starts to sing while it is still dark." ~Anonymous

Adventures in Babysitting

We all knew it was only a matter of time before I whipped that title out, right?

Anyway, I have been officially (or unofficially if you work for the IRS) employed as a babysitter for one week, and already, I've had a veritable roller coaster of ups and downs.  Overall, though I am absolutely loving this, and wondering why it took me so long to realize that babysitting is a perfect fit for me.

It combines my love of children, flexibility, and money, and all of my favorite parts about working in a before and after school child care program with none of its drawbacks.  I literally play games and cuddle babies.  For a living.  And being that we're talking about a ratio of 1:1 or 1:2 instead of 1:15, I spend much less time dealing with discipline issues.  The best part?  If I really end up disliking a bratty kid or a parent, all I have to do is tell them I'm busy every time they call. Brilliant!

So far, my client list includes two friends kind enough to hire me on a few occasions, one regular nannying job for an infant and toddler sibling set, three families who have interviewed me and said they will schedule occasional jobs, and a sitting service based out of Charlotte that organizes child care for group events in the Carolinas.  Since November 2nd I've managed to rack up 32 hours of work.  I don't think I'll be able to aquire that many hours on a regular basis, but I definitely feel like I'm off to a good start.

Of course, not everything has been perfect.  This weekend I was hired to work for the service I mentioned earlier--the same one that gave me 15 hours of work last weekend.  I showed up at the hotel where the conference was being held at the appointed time, and there was no one else around.  I found the room full of toys, labeled with the name of the conference, so I knew I was in the right place, but after 30 minutes of waiting and an unanswered phone call to the organizer, I grumpily headed back to my car and returned home.

Later that night, I got an email from the service saying that they apologized, but a lot of families had cancelled so they wouldn't need my services on Sunday.  In a wine-fueled fit of frustration, I wrote a strongly worded (though even upon sober review, respectful and firm) email detailing my disappointment in how this job had been handled.  Of course, they were also offering another 13 hours of work for next weekend, so I kindly asked to please be signed up for that.  I might be annoyed, but the money is still good and I've got a baby to buy.  While I was out for my run last evening, I received a very apologetic voicemail from the organizer of the event asking me to call her back so that she could talk to me.  So we'll see how that goes when I call her back later today.

But as for the good parts, I'm so excited about my weekly gig hanging out for a few hours twice a week with a teensy infant--seriously teensy, he's only 3 weeks old--and his precious two-year-old sister.  The little girl is super well behaved and so easy to entertain, and the baby is just... oh, be still my heart.  I was a little worried that working with an infant would be hard on me, but instead I find myself looking forward to my time with him, and spoiling him rotten with cuddles and hugs any time he opens his mouth to bleat.  I spent an hour last Thursday with the little girl playing on the floor at my feet, the baby sleeping on my chest, and the Muppets on television.  Heaven.

So anyway, that's a whole lot of words to say, in a nutshell, there are certainly some downsides to working a job with no set or guaranteed hours, but I'm so in love with what I'm doing, and it's incredible to have a job that I actually look forward to!  And babies!!  GAH!!!

Walk With Personality, Bark With Personality

I'm not sure why it came as such a surprise to me that much like people, dogs all have VERY DIFFERENT personalities.  And not just in terms of their breed's traits, but some are silly, some are serious, some crave attention, some just want to eat your shoes.  Some eat quickly, others can have a full bowl left out all day and not finish it.  All of them make you wonder what exactly is going on in that space between their ears.Things got off to a pretty rocky start when I brought Jack home from a Little Rock animal shelter in 2005.  First, there was the shocking revelation from the vet's office when I went to pick him up from being SPAYED that he was a boy, not a girl, so they neutered him.  Then he got crazy sick with approximately 14 different worms, an eye infection, and a nasty case of distemper that came pretty close to killing him.  But we pulled through, and in short order he became my most favorite little buddy.He quickly turned from a shy, frightened, shell of a puppy, to the loudest, most boisterous animal you can imagine.  We suspect that he sustained some neurological damage from his battle with distemper, so he'll never win any brainiac awards (which always surprises people when I tell him that he's part border collie--but we think he's also got some chow in him, and those dogs be DUMB), but he is just so sweet, and goofy you can't help but love him.

When Jack goes on walks, he is at his most focused and determined.  He marches forward, looking back only to make sure you're still behind him.  If we are walking on the grass, and he can see a path or a road, he makes a beeline toward it--he hates a walk with no direction and has no time for your typical dog behaviors of smelling objects on the side of the road or even worse, taking breaks to get pats.  He is incredibly loving, and all you have to do is look at him to get his tail thumping, but it takes some convincing to squeeze any cuddles out of him.  He prefers to lie down across your feet or lean against your leg to show his affection.

He's our special snowflake, but we love him.Ellie, in true second child fashion has far fewer photos from her early life with us.  Whereas Jack had multiple photo shoots each day from the time he walked through my door at six months old, this is the earliest shot I can find of Ellie.  She joined our family when she was just a little four-month-old baby, and in this photo she's six months.

I got her from a different shelter, and fortunately didn't have to deal with any life threatening illnesses, but oh, this girl has a little bit of the devil in her.  For many months I wondered if I had made a huge mistake.  The first thing she did upon entering the apartment was walk up to Jack, sniff him, then started a tussle that ended up with this ~20 pound girl pinning his 40 pound butt to the ground.  She made it clear from the start who was in charge, and nothing has really changed since.Ellie is incredibly stubborn and independent--we can't decide if she's more like a teenage girl or a cat.  She refuses to get out of bed to go outside in the morning until she's good and ready.  She spends her day rotating through the various sunny spots of the house.  She loves a good cuddle and will happily pounce in your lap, but you have to make it seem like her idea.  She has been carrying on a torrid love affair with a succession of tennis balls throughout her life, and when Ellie goes for a walk, it's more like a thorough investigation of the neighborhood in which she leaves no stone unsniffed or leaf unpeed on.  If she's not sprawled in a patch of sunlight, she can be found curled up, sleeping in a tight little ball and should you dare to disturb her, you will get the most scathing look imaginable.

And if all of that wasn't enough to convey their personalities and relationship with one another, this picture sums it up pretty perfectly.
An unsuspected nose bite is worth a thousand words.

Homecoming Hotness

For those not in the college football know, one of LSU's love him or hate him players, Tyrann Mathieu, was dubbed the honey badger (inspired by this amazing viral video) at the beginning of the season.  He earned this moniker due to his tendency to zip around the field making some pretty sweet plays and, as the video goes, taking what he wants.  Mathieu has had a rocky road the past few weeks and likely destroyed his shot at the Heisman, but when I saw this shirt combining my love for LSU with my love for ridiculous internet memes, I knew I had to have it on my body.

I won't be watching LSU play WKU in our homecoming game tonight 1) because homecoming is traditionally a lame matchup that doesn't air on any of the channels we get and 2) because I'm working.  But you'd better believe I will be representing my team in my rad honey badger shirt.

Thanks for the ball, stupid!

Eleventh Hour Eleventh Day Eleventh Month

I cannot remember a single moment in time when I haven't had identified with the military.  I have no idea how old I was when I got my first actual id card--twelve maybe?--but even before that day, I knew that I was a part of the military.  My father had spent 20 years in the Air Force, and even as a child, I was pretty proud of that.  Once he retired, and we had moved to Louisiana, not many of my friends had parents who had served in the military, so I always felt that it was a pretty unique defining characteristic.

Then, in high school, I decided to take a couple of years of JROTC so that I wouldn't have to take a phys ed course, and four years later, I was accepting an Air Force ROTC scholarship and signing a contract to commission upon graduation.  I traded in my dependent id for a reserve id.  Another four years down the road, I was once more signing on the dotted line as I accepted my commission as a 2nd Lieutenant and began active duty as a personnel officer at Little Rock AFB.

While I was proud to serve my country, being on active duty never felt like the right fit for me, so when I got the opportunity to separate and join the inactive ready reserves, I once again traded for a reserve id.  Not too long after that, I came full circle when I was issued the dependent id card that came with marrying into the military.

I'm incredibly proud of my family's military tradition.  Three of my four grandparents moved to America from other countries, in search of the American dream.  But in that short time since we were established in the United States, each generation of my family has served in the military.  My grandfather as a part of the Army Air Corps in WWII.  My father in Vietnam.  Me in Operation Push Papers.  And now my husband in Operations Enduring Freedom and New Dawn.

I'm celebrating Veteran's Day by giving thanks for all of the men and women who get up every morning and protect our country.  And I'm also giving thanks for the life that the military has afforded me.  It is far from perfect, and at times it can be downright miserable.  But it has given me a sense of pride and honor.  It has given me the opportunity to travel and to call so many places home.  It has brought so many wonderful people into my life.

And I'm shipping this off to my veteran who is far from home on this day that honors him.  I'd rather have him here, but if we have to be apart, I'm so proud that this is the work he's doing.  Thank you, Colby.  Thank you, daddy.  And thank you to anyone else who serves or has served.  America is a better place for having you.

ThankFALL Thursday

See what I did there?

It's funny, because this week I am giving thanks for the wondrousness that is fall in the South.

For as long as I can remember, fall has been my favorite season.  I read a quote in Southern Living that said fall is a Southerner's reward for surviving summer, and that couldn't be more true.  Everyone is maniacally excited to shed their winter coats at the beginning of beach season, but by the end of August, the entire population of the South is lying prostrate in front of their air conditioning vents, melting into a pool of their own perspiration, begging the good Lord to deliver them from face melting temperatures and oppressive humidity.

And then comes the beginning of October, with its brief, rejuvenating snap of cool weather, followed by week upon week of utter mid 60s-low 80s perfection.  It is still warm enough to squeeze in a last few moments with your favorite summer dresses, but the days cool down enough to justify boots and a light cardigan.  It's not so cold that you have to cover up your perfect fall ensemble with a bulky coat, and the nights are made for sitting around a fire pit and tying on whimsical scarves.

I never realized just how glorious fall in the South is until I moved to Washington.  In short order, I developed a Pavlovian response to the calendar turning to September.  Except instead of drooling, I whimpered into my wooly socks and bid a heartbroken farewell to the sun for the next six months.  I survived the cold, damp, grey days for two fall seasons and by the end of those two short years, "fall" had become a dirty word in our household.  We just didn't talk about it.  And I decided to take my cancery risks in the tanning bed in an effort not to kill myself in much quicker ways.

But now we are back in the South, and I am rejoicing in the beautiful weather that we've been experiencing and that will be coming our way for another month or so before the much cooler winter temperatures set in.  I don't know what the Air Force has in store for our next assignment, so for now I'll just revel in each day of perfect Southern autumn that I'm given, and dream of the day when I'll never have to dread fall again!

The Impossible Dream

I'm reading Don Quixote right now, and I'm finding it surprisingly funny and touching.  I have been wanting to read it for a while because Man of La Mancha is one of my favorite musicals.  Or at least, it's one of my favorite soundtracks.  I've not yet had the chance to see it performed, but I've listened to the music while reading the libretto, and much like the book, it is both heartwarming, sad, and absurd.

So, as I make my way through the novel, I usually end up singing the music to myself as I read, and the songs get stuck on repeat in my head throughout the day.  Tonight, I decided to take a break from Christmas music to listen to the album, and when it got to The Impossible Dream, I stood frozen at the sink, hot water running, dirty pot in hand, listening to the lyrics.  Really hearing the words.

I've always thought it was a beautiful song, but as I listened this evening, my eyes filled with tears because it resonated in a new way.  It says everything I've been trying to tell myself over the past few months.  To be strong in the face of oppressive disappointment and sorrow.  To keep love alive when distance is a near constant companion.  To follow dreams into a world of fear and uncertainty in the hopes that we will come through intact.  To keep believing that despite seemingly endless setbacks, dreams can still become reality.  Clinging to those beliefs like a life raft to get myself through the bad days.

To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest, to follow that star
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far
To fight for the right, without question or pause
To be willing to march into Hell, for a Heavenly cause

And I know if I'll only be true, to this glorious quest,
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm, when I'm laid to my rest
And the world will be better for this:
That one man, scorned and covered with scars,
Still strove, with his last ounce of courage,
To reach the unreachable star.

It's Not Like They Make Thanksgiving Music

And don't go throwing Turkey In The Straw in my face.  That doesn't count.  

It's been hard to find reasons to smile over the past few weeks, but every time I crank up my iTunes Christmas playlist I instantly feel more peaceful and content.  It's like musical Zoloft.  And given that I have about 15 hours of Christmas tunes, I have to get started early if I want to be properly satisfied by the end of the holiday season.

Making me grin even wider each time I click play are these recent additions to my library.
I've been listening to these two albums on repeat, and I'm completely smitten.  Michael Buble's take on Christmas is chock full of instant classics and grand, sweeping instrumentals that perfectly complement his silky smooth vocals.  Zooey Deschanel and M. Ward, on the other hand, are much more stripped down and quirky, and their Christmas carols are so different from anything else I've heard.

I'm also excited for the release of Glee's second Christmas album in the middle of this month, and thanks to AOL, I was able to spend my afternoon caroling with the New Directions... and I guess the Trouble Tones.

I know it's a bit early yet for most people to be breaking out the Christmas tunes, but to help me prepare for the upcoming season, what is your favorite Christmas album?  There's a pretty good chance I already have it, but I'm always on the hunt for new additions to my collection!

Budgeting for Infertility

One of the most overwhelming aspects of dealing with infertility and deciding to undergo IVF is facing the staggering costs associated with the procedures.  Unfortunately, many insurance plans do not cover any fertility treatments, and as much as Tricare does cover, it does not pay for anything after a diagnosis of infertility.  Even though they pay for 100% of testing prior to a diagnosis, I have to pay room fees for my hysterosalpingogram and my hysteroscopy, as well as my anesthetist's fee, which will come to $700.  I can submit my bill from the anesthetist to Tricare and they might cover it, but I'm not holding my breath.

I've talked about some of the different options for our IVF payment, and while we're still trying to decide, I think we're leaning the most toward the $15000 charge for four cycles--two fresh and two frozen.  Yes, IVF may work on the first round, but if not, and we only paid for the cycles one at a time that would be $12000 down the drain and another $12000 for our second procedure.  These quotes were also given to us before we knew we would have to do ICSI (the doctor injects the sperm directly into the egg, instead of just putting them in a petri dish together and letting them do the work), so that may make the procedure more expensive.  On top of that, the estimate for medication is $2000-5000, and I'm planning on $5000 for budgeting purposes.

I also like to add in a little padding in case something ends up costing us more than what we were expecting, so adding in a $5000 buffer, we're looking at somewhere in the neighborhood of a $25000 hit to our savings next spring.  Although we're pretty good savers and put about 15-20% of what we make each month into savings or investments, we also just took an expensive trip to Europe, bought $3000 worth of stocks and enoyed a fairly spendy summer, all before we knew IVF was in our future.  While we do have sizeable savings, most of it is in our IRAs and various stocks and funds that we really don't want to touch until retirement.

So, looking at our savings account, I really want to save another $10000 before March.  That sounds incredibly daunting, but I've thought about it, and I think it's possible.  We'll probably get somewhere in the neighborhood of $3000 back from taxes, bringing us down to $7000.  We already put $300 a month directly into savings, and since we've refinanced our Washington house, that's an additional $200 a month that we'll be able to add--so by the end of March, that will be another $2500, leaving us with $4500 to scrounge up.

And that's where babysitting comes in.  I'm certainly not making millions, but I estimate that if my parent interviews this week go well, I'll be working about 10-15 hours a week, so by my self-imposed March deadline, I could probably save close to $2000 as a conservative estimate.  Leaving us with $2500 that will hopefully materialize just by pinching our pennies.

With Colby gone I'll be eating out less, and while I'm planning a few trips during the deployment, I'm trying to make them as cost-effective and budget friendly as possible.  I've decided to set a $50 clothing limit per month, my makeup and beauty stash has been recently replenished so I shouldn't need to spend much there.  Any money we get for birthdays or Christmas will go toward the baby fund since that's pretty much the best gift either one of us can imagine.

So, with that savings plan in place, I really think we can reach our $10000 goal, and if we're very, very good, maybe even save a bit more so that we're not entirely cleaned out by April.

Is anyone else saving for a big purchase or event?  What are your best savings tips?

Puppy Love

I just have to say, thank goodness for Drew Alleman, Brad Wing and cell phones that magically know what time it is so I don't have to fully understand how the time change works.  The LSU game was incredible.  We were so evenly matched with Alabama, that both teams spent the entire game locked in battle and it came down to field goals every time.  Way to go defense.  For those who didn't watch, with about :40 seconds left in the 4th quarter, it became evident that Nick Saban wanted the game to go into overtime--I don't know enough about football to fully understand why, but regardless, after four quarters of playing their butts off, both teams had only managed to score two field goals resulting in a 6-6 tie.

Alabama had the ball first, ended up trying for a field goal, and their kicker who is surely on unemployment today after a horribly botched game, missed.  LSU got it back, ran it for the first three downs, then went for the 3 points and SCORED!!!  It was amazing.  Alabama fans cried bourbon tears all the way home, and LSU remains on top for another week.

 

Road trip cuddles. Jack is the big black blob on the left, Ellie is the skeptical blonde on the right.

Segue.  Topic change.  It has occured to me recently that while I used to feature my adorable puppies here on a regular basis, I talk about them so little now that more recent readers might not even realize that I have the most amazing dogs in the entire universe.  Being that I have to come up with something to blog about EVERY DAMN DAY in November, I decided Sundays will be devoted to Angela's best friends.

For those of you not in the know, both Jack and Ellie are dogs of unknown heritage--a special holiday blend, if you will--that I adopted from shelters when I was living in Little Rock, Arkansas.  Jack came into my life when he was around 6 months old, and Ellie when she was 4 months old, and I've had Jack for 6 years and Ellie for about 5 1/2.  They made the move with me to Washington when I went to live with Colby and instantly ditched me as the coolest person ever and became completely infatuated with their new dad.  They still like me just fine, but if it came down to a choice about who they were going to save if we fell down two separate wells... I'm not liking my chances.

So, suffice it to say, deployments are always hard on them.  Ellie spent the whole day before Colby left, moving from one pile of suitcases to another, glaring at us warily and Jack still camps out by the front door every day around the time Colby typically comes home from work.  Sure, it's hard explaining deployments to kids, but try explaining it to dogs that have a combined understanding of about six words--most of which involve food.

GEAUX TIGERS!!!

I'm working a 12 hour day today, but am getting off just in time to race over to my friend's house and watch the BIGGEST GAME IN FOOTBALL HISTORY!!  At least as far as I am concerned.  #1 LSU will face off against #2 Alabama and SEC country is abuzz with excitement.  I can't even remember feeling this excited when we played in the championship game.

If you find yourself feeling apathetic about this matchup, football in general, or just need a little taste of the excitement to tide (but NOT Crimson Tide) you over until 7 pm CST, check out this amazing trailer video that I've been watching daily for the past two weeks.

We're the crew from LSU and we don't give a damn

We go to school, we break the rules and flunk (ahem) the damn exams

To hell with Mississippi

To hell with 'Bama too

If you don't like the Tigers

To hell to hell with you!

What Goes Down Must Come Up

Down: It has been an incredibly long week since Colby left, and I still have moments where I just want to stop whatever it is I'm doing and throw a good, loud tantrum.
Up: We're one week into this and that's one week less to get through.

Down: Colby's internet connection in Overtheristan is complete crap making it impossible for us to carry on a phone conversation over Skype.
Up: I finally figured out how to use the Skype app on my cell phone, so we're able to use the chat option like text messaging.  It's nice to not feel chained to my computer in order to hear from him.

Down: I left quite possibly the most embarrassing voicemail in my history of embarrassing voicemails for a propsective babysitting client.  I managed to 1) say "um" about seventeen times 2) refer to the two children of unknown gender who I would be watching as "her son" 3) sound as though I were about to hang up before launching into a whole new series of ridiculous sentences and 4) forget to say anything along the lines of "goodbye" before hanging up the phone and launching it across the room in sheer terror.
Up:  She called me back.  And I've got three other parent meetings set up for this weekend and early next week, as well as a job that will give me 15 hours over the course of Friday evening and Saturday.  Woo!

Down: On my Tuesday run, my knee started to feel twingy around mile two.  I kept running, and the pain was gone by the time I got home.  But then it started throbbing while I was in the shower, and has been sore ever since.  I've been scared to run on it, and tried wearing a brace yesterday, but the brace just hurt even more.  The pain has abated, so hopefully this is just a one off incident and I'll be back in business for my run today.
Up: My runs have been getting much better and are verging on enjoyable.  I've also been working on improving my speed, and am so close to getting my pace under 10 minutes, I can taste it!

Down: It's been about seven years in internet time since the new Facebook was released, and I still hate it.  There are so many posts from people I love that I never get to see, and while I used to get tons of hits and interaction on my blog from friends, now I get about 20-30 click throughs a day.
Up: I'm spending a lot less time on Facebook these days! 

What are your ups and downs this week?  I hope the ups are vastly outweighing the downs!

Thankful Thursday

I'm dusting off the old Thankful Thursday posts and reusing the idea this November.  Last year I said:

Then, it struck me.  I am the only one who can choose my attitude.  I can choose to sit back and let my annoyance overtake me, complain about my problems, have a miserable week, and rely on someone else to bring me happiness.  Or I can dust myself off, acknowledge my sadness, and also acknowledge how much GOOD there is in my life every single day, enjoying each day for what it brings me rather than being angry because of what it does not.

 I needed that reminder more than ever this week, and in my very first Thankful Thursday of the year, I want to give thanks for the people who made my life possible.  My parents.

I am so lucky to have such supportive parents.  I have never, ever in my life had to wonder if they would be there for me when I needed them, and even better, they've always been there even when I didn't realize just how much I needed them.

There are so many examples of this, but just this month, they'll be coming to my house for the week of Thanksgiving, and then, because timing didn't work out for my procedure to be done while they are here, they're coming back one week later, so that I won't have to be alone at my house following my anesthesia.  Then, to help me save money and make it possible to visit my best friend and my sister in January and February, they're letting me leave my dogs at their house while I'm home for Christmas, and then my parents are coming BACK to Charleston in February so that my mom can come up to visit my sister in NYC with me while my dad grandpuppysits.

I didn't even have to ask for that--they just offered.

We don't always see eye to eye, and we are different in so many ways, but when it comes right down to it, they are two of the most supportive people in my life, and they have always been my rock.  And for that, I am more grateful than words can say!

State of the Uterus Address

When we last left off in this saga, I had seen a reproductive endocrinologist (RE) for an HSG to make sure all was well with my internal lady plumbing, and he informed us that while my tubes were all clear, there seemed to be something covering about 40% of my uterus--probably polyps or fibroids that will need to be removed.  He also had trouble locating as many follicles as he had hoped to find in my ovaries during an internal ultrasound, so he wanted to do a little bit more testing.

I had bloodwork for my FSH and AMH (both hormones that can help determine the quality and quantity of your ovarian reserve--eggs still present in your body and waiting to be released), and while my FSH came back on the high end of normal (you want a low number), my AMH was pretty deplorable, basically confirming what the doctor had suspected after the ultrasound.  I've got old lady ovaries.

The typical, healthy woman of my age would have 10-20 follicles at that point in each of her cycles--at my age, I should be closer to twenty.  I had eight.  And chances are good that the quality of my eggs aren't stellar, meaning that when the winning egg is released every cycle, it's just the frontrunner at the Special Egg Olympics.

Colby also had some retesting done and his analysis came back with the exact same motility and morphology as the first test (poor) and an even lower count.  So, basically, we are both defunct, and it is a surprise to exactly no one that we still haven't gotten pregnant after 14 cycles of trying to conceive.

We were desperately hoping that intrauterine insemination (IUI) would be an option for us because it is a fairly non-invasive procedure, not to mention boatloads cheaper than invitro.  However, our doctor was very clear with us that we just aren't good candidates for IUI.  Due to the process they use to retrieve the sperm and prepare it for insemination, they usually lose about half, and with Colby's low concentration and even lower count of good quality sperm, combined with my geriatric ovaries, the doctor doesn't feel that it would be effective.

So.  IVF. With ICSI.

We're still mulling over our financial options, but it's going to be terribly expensive just for the procedure, and then another $2000-5000 for medications.  I've been reading message boards and blogs about women who have gone through this, and while I'm learning a lot, it's also scaring the crap out of me.  It's painful.  It's emotionally draining.  It puts strains on marriages.  And most terrifying of all, it doesn't always work.

I'm trying very hard to stay positive about this.  With any luck, come March or April, we'll be starting down a new road that will hopefully lead us to our baby, but I just wish I could know for sure that this was going to work out, that it will all be worth it in the end.

I guess we're infertile.  Damn.

This Is Halloween... Wait... No...

Oh my God... HOW IS IT NOVEMBER?????  I can't even deal with this year.  Obviously, I hope the next four months go by quickly, but at the same time, I feel like time is already whizzing by so quickly that if it goes into even more of a warp mode I'm going to be a dried up old hag tomorrow.  (No jokes please, I know I left that one wide open.)

Anyway.

Yesterday WAS Halloween, and I got dressed up and went trick or treating with Pauly D, Obi Wan Kenobi, a Lily Cat, and a VT Lion.  It was... pretty cool.  There were a few other adults wondering around the shopping center in costume, so I didn't look like a total loon.  My favorite family costumes were the Angry Birds (kid was the red one, mom was the blue shotgun one, and dad was the black bomb) and the Wizard of Oz (mom was the Wicked Witch, dad was the Tin Man, kids were Dorothy and the Scarecrow).  It was a great time, and as always, I drove home thinking about what I would be next year--I've already got a couple of ideas!

Honestly, I really dislike Halloween in general--I don't like the decorations (Most of them are gross and only loosely Halloween related--a crime scene?  Really?  Uh, Happy Halloween??), the music is kind of stupid, I don't like opening my door to randos to pass out candy--but it's all worth it in the end, because I LOVE dressing up.

Anyway, another holiday is checked off the list, and I guess I can admit to my blog family that I have been listening to Christmas music since this weekend.  I usually wait until November 1st to crank up the holiday tunes, but this year, I decided to give myself a special treat and get started early.  I can also admit that I signed up for NaBloPoMo!  I haven't done this for a few years, so I'm looking forward to the challenge of posting EVERY BLESSED DAY this month, and hope you won't get too sick of me.

Did you dress up for Halloween?  Any other NaBloPoMoers out there?