We’re several days into the November cycle, and I’m wondering why we decided to try again without some sort of aggressive plan in place. I’m sure I had a reason… now what was it? I’m taking my prenatal/folic acid/low-dose aspirin combo religiously, but it doesn’t seem like enough. I’m not being proactive. Why am I not being proactive? I whine about wanting a baby, and yet I’m not moving toward the goal in any definable way.

And I’m sick of being overweight. Yet I continue to eat ridiculous amounts of food with zero exercise. I want someone to make a plan for me, and then make me stick to it… is that too much to ask? I whine about being fat, and yet even as I type, I’m thinking about going through the Wendy’s drive-through on the way to work.

Have a nagging headache that’s been hanging out with me for going on two weeks. Feeling generally out of sorts & just plain grumpy. Bobby and I skipped church yesterday, and I know that is contributing to my dishevelment. I’ve come to reply on the Sunday morning service as a method of pushing the “reset” button… I feel guilty and aggravated at myself for not going.

It’s just like eating crappy food… I know that skipping Sunday morning or stuffing my face with french fries & chocolate makes me feel bad, but I do it anyway. Gotta love intentional self-sabotage.

Lately, I’ve been that sketchy girl… you know, that one who tells you she’s coming & then may or may not show up. I ask Bobby if he wants to see a movie — when he says yes, I change my mind. I’m avoiding people in real life and in the blogosphere. Why, you ask? Well, I couldn’t exactly say.

I annoy myself. Bleh.

After 1.5 yrs of weekly sessions, I’ve stopped seeing Dr Jerry. I feel like I’ve taken that relationship as far as it can go for now… well, until I bottom out again I suppose. It had just reached the point where I felt like we were spinning our wheels — over the last 1.5 yrs, I’ve talked about motherloss and babyloss and religious baggage ad nauseum. The poor damn horse is dead… I guess I’ll quit kicking it for awhile.

Not that I’ll quit fixating on those topics, of course… just not gonna pay to do it in a formalized therapy setting.

I’m so glad that my sister’s baby is here. I didn’t realize how much I was dreading the birth process — the call that it’s happening, the labor & delivery wing of the hospital, watching with sad eyes, hoping that one day it will be my turn. It all happened so quickly that I was able to keep the demons at bay for the most part. There were a few moments of self-pity, but I buried them in activity… bringing food to the hospital, balancing hospital visits with my little job, & buying silly things like a giant pink bow for the hosp room door.

There was one time, when I held Sadie and looked at her tiny, perfect face, and I truly felt overwhelmed and inadequate. Healthy, perfectly formed and functioning babies are such an unbelievably complex phenomenon… that the science of multiplying cells can (and does in cases where my uterus isn’t involved) become a breathing, sleeping, warm little human. I felt a wave of doubt that I’ll ever be able to accomplish such an incredible feat — that, like winning an Olympic medal for pole-vaulting or being one of those circus girls who balance on a galloping horse, that maybe growing a little human is something that my body just isn’t meant to do.

Bleh. Don’t like that thought. Moving on. You see, this is what I do right now. I tamp down sad thoughts like tobacco in a pipe.

I still really like my job. Not crazy about the pissiness of working with women again… you know, the whole gossipy, whisper-whisper, back-stabby thing… seriously, I wonder if there’s a female-monopolized workplace that isn’t catty as hell?!  But the kids? Love ‘em. My day:laugh ratio has increased dramatically — they’re just so stinking *funny*.  Like one little boy came in the other morning hugging a cowboy boot. Not a pair of boots… just one boot. His frazzled dad explained that he wouldn’t leave the house (or the car) without it. Or when we’re talking about body parts, and I ask where their bellies are… one little boy responded that he left his at home.

And I know they probably hug on all their teachers, but it absolutely warms my heart everytime one of them launches themselves at my legs or crawls into my lap. Such dear little critters. Dogs can sense fear…. so maybe the kiddies can sense that I’m in love with them. Ya think? :)

Sadie, meet Blogosphere. Blogosphere, meet Sadie.

Just talked to Jennifer… she was admitted this afternoon. Sadie should be arriving sometime tomorrow morning at 35 wks.

I feel like I’m on a runaway train that’s barreling through a pitch-black tunnel at 100 mph. With no headlight. Yeah. That about sums it up.

Holy freakin’ crap, people.

As of last week, Bobby and I were officially cleared by RE#3 to try again. He wrote a prescription for progesterone suppositories starting 3 days post-ovulation, and instructed me to call the minute I get a positive pregnancy test so that the obsessive ultrasounds can begin.

He said that he’ll be as aggressive as we want him to be — if we want to start various fertility drugs, he’s game. We told him that we wanted to try sans drugs for at least one month, then if it doesn’t work, come back for Phase 2.

Honestly, I just didn’t feel like trying this month. The super-great ovulation monitor worked beautifully this month, giving me a little have-sex-NOW! egg on Day 17. But I didn’t. See, I have this fear. I’m afraid that I’ll get pregnant again, and miscarry again, and these unfortunate events will coincide with my new niece’s arrival. I need all my mental facilities available for the next few weeks (months?)… and in my considerable experience, BabyLosses have a way of making me really emotional and really mentally not ok psychotic.

Crazy, post-BabyLoss Sarah + sister giving birth = big effing disaster.

I suspect that I’m making up excuses on some level, because I’m just afraid. I feel, in a deep-down place that I try not to acknowledge, that I may never have a baby. I’m watching Jennifer during these last few weeks of a healthy pregnancy, and I can’t help thinking that perhaps I need to accept that it’ll never be me. And I need to figure out how to be ok with that.

Jennifer and I have been better in the last couple of weeks than we have in months. When she opened matching jewelry boxes for Sadie & Maggie, she cried… the twirling ballerina & strains of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” evoked memories of Mama’s jewelry box that we played with as little girls. And her heartfelt emotion & immediate understanding of why I chose that particular gift healed much of the hurt that has been just under the surface for both of us. I threw myself into every detail of the brunch… I wanted to show her that I love her, that I love her new little one, that I’m still Sarah down underneath the sadness of being a Lost Baby Mama.

So next month, Bobby & I will try again. And maybe it’ll work. And maybe I’ll be pregnant by my 32nd birthday. And maybe our baby make it. And maybe I’ll be a mother by my 33rd birthday. Maybe?

Hosted a baby brunch yesterday for Sadie, who’s arriving in only 12 days… Jennifer’s blood pressure is elevated, so they’re inducing 3 weeks early. So hard to believe that there’s going to be a new little girl here in just a few days…

My co-hostesses were both sickly… cousin Merrill was banned from coming by her doctor (which just plain sucked), and then Sue started running a fever Saturday morning & was quarantined in her room during the festivities. Apparently pregnant women & high fevers don’t geehaw.

But the brunch went really well, I think — we had quiche (spinach/feta and bacon/ham), bagels with assorted cream cheeses, apple coffee cake (made from scratch by Susie-Q Homemaker :)), cupcakes, fruit, and mimosas. Much to my surprise & amusement, the alcoholic mimosas with champagne were gone long before the non-alcoholic with ginger ale. You go, you cute little Southern lady imbibers!

The living room  decorations. You may remember the pram purchase during Pregnancy #2… well, it went to live in the attic for a while, but reemerged this week as the perfect location for baby gifts.

Dining room window. I’ve been dying to do the baby clothesline idea since I saw this post (which is pretty much the prettiest baby shower I’ve ever seen).

The food. You can probably tell that I’m a big fan of Martha Stewart’s pom-poms, yes? :) They’re just so fluffy, and you can do them in whatever color of tissue paper you have. And Princess Maggie, wearing one of the three princess dresses she got for her birthday… cracks me up!

And finally, the invitations (which technically should have been first, I guess)… I’m a freak, so I handmade the invites & the envelopes. Found this great book full of creative ideas & even templates — fun stuff. You can’t really see it in the picture, but there’s a tiny silver baby-feet charm on the ribbon. I loved the pink felt stickers used to seal the envelopes — the sticker packs included birdies (pictured here) , bunnies, & flowers. So stinkin’ cute.

]]> http://stillthinkingagain.wordpress.com/2009/10/25/baby-brunch-complete/feed/ 5 Sarah oct16 062 oct16 063 oct16 065 oct16 088 oct16 089 copy oct24 003 http://stillthinkingagain.wordpress.com/2009/10/13/tv-junkie/ http://stillthinkingagain.wordpress.com/2009/10/13/tv-junkie/#comments Tue, 13 Oct 2009 16:45:10 +0000 Sarah http://stillthinkingagain.wordpress.com/?p=2676 ]]>

You know, I should probably be embarrassed about how many tv shows I’m watching these days, but I’m completely unrepentant. DVR has changed my life, I tell ya. Anybody else have a tv habit?

Here’s the current line-up:

Monday:
Lie to Me

Tuesday:
Biggest Loser
The Forgotten

Wednesday:
America’s Next Top Model
Law & Order: SVU
Criminal Minds
Eastwick

Thursday:
Flashforward
Survivor
Project Runway

The tree  man’s my bitch. Muahaha. No really, though, he backed down from his murderous plan fairly easily, and agreed to prune instead. I didn’t even have to show him pictures to prove what an important role the tree plays in our lives (and trust me, I had them ready). So the ribbon o’ death has been removed, and our lovely little ornamental cherry tree has been granted a stay of execution.

I feel much better, ya’ll. I literally went out a while ago and gave my tree a hug. Like, literally.