Are you kidding me?

I just went to the bathroom and what is on the tissue after I wipe? Blood. WTF? No, really: What. the. fuck?!?!?

It's only been 24 days since the last time that bitch came to town and I'm getting it again? Can't I have 4 more days of no tampons and cramps?!? Where's the warning? Where's the unbearable sore boobs and cramps that make me keel over for a week or two? Where's the extreme irritability?

Do I have to start fucking temping again to know when this bitch will show up?!

UGH.

Why am I blogging about this? Why, after well over 20 years of menstruating every single motherfucking month, am I complaining this month?

Because for the second month in a row, AF has caught me completely off guard. And even though I really thought I tried not getting my hopes up to *not* getting AF and having to POAS and getting a BFP, apparently my hopes were up high again because ONCE AGAIN this little bitch cried like the little bitch that she is. Who the fuck CRIES when they get their period?!

God, I'm so sick of this. I'm so, so sick of this.

I'm sick of the tears, the heartache, the emptiness, the pity parties. I'm sick of feeling like this! And just when I think I'm taking one step forward, I end up taking two steps back and it's infuriating!

My dad's 75th birthday

I've been feeling these shooting-like pains in my boobs for several days now. Maybe even a week or so. It's the same type of pains that I got before my BFP in early July. I've been trying not to get my hopes up too high, but I did tell S last night about them after he tried playing Squishy Ball with my boobs. He said that maybe we got it this time and things are working again in there.

Maybe.

I've also been feeling really ... odd lately. Like dizzy. And that, too, happened last time. But I've been feeling this... odd ... feeling for about a month so I think it has nothing to do with possibly being pregnant, but rather with stress and my blood pressure.

Oh and the fact that I can't stop eating like a 5 year old.

Poo.

In other news, I was planning to send my dad to Texas for his birthday. He'll be 75 in two and a half weeks or so. It's a big deal in my opinion; a big birthday. I wanted to do something special for him, something that could compete with his 65th and 70th birthday when we threw him surprise parties.

He won't be getting a surprise party this year, though. I refuse to be the family fucking coordinator that I've been in years past. Instead I'll worry about me and my gift to him and let the other narcissistic fuckers in the family deal with their own gifts... if they even remember it's his 75th.

Yeah so the plan was to send him to Texas because it's warm down there, which is good for his arthritis, and because my brother/his son is down there. So I coordinate the dates with my brother and we're all set to go but I didn't book the flight because of Ike. Even when I learned Ike didn't damage their home or property, I still didn't book the flight.

I must've known my dear brother would flake on me.

He emails me yesterday telling me that when Dad is down there, he (brother) can't take any time off of work because it's a new job and that I might want to look into renting him a small car so he won't be stuck inside the whole time. Um... fantastic. Cuz I can afford $350 for air plus a rental. Thanks for taking care of *something* asshat. I emailed him back and told him that I hadn't booked the flight yet and maybe I would wait until the winter holidays to send him. Brother emails back saying that that would probably be best because he and his little family are "FLAT" broke. Poor fucking baby. Maybe if your wife got off her ass and, I don't know, found a job, you wouldn't be so broke! Grrrr.

So I was pretty steamed because, like always, it boiled down to money - or lack of - with my brother, but he had to go about it in a completely assinine way. Fucker. Loser. Bastard.

I stewed for awhile yesterday over this because, like I said earlier, I really wanted to make my dad's 75th birthday special.

When I got home from work, it dawned on me that the thing he really wants is to spend time with people. He wants that all the time because he lives alone. But he's also *quite* cantankerous these days and frankly, I can't stand to be around him half the time because of it. Sad, I know - especially because I really do love and adore my father.

Anyway, I thought What the hell can we do to spend time with him, but make it something he'll really remember, something that will really stick out for him when he thinks of this 75th birthday?

I hopped online and surfed the net a bit before it hit me: JERSEY BOYS!

My dad loves old school music. Hell, he loves *anything* old school these days! So why not take him to dinner and then to go see Jersey Boys?!?

I look to see when they're in the area and lo and behold, there's a show on his actual birthday. But it's a 7:30 show, which means both S and I would have to ensure that we be able to pick up my dad by 6 to ensure we find parking, etc. Plus it's a 2 1/2 hour show and that's pretty late for a school night.

So S and I decided that we'll take the old man out for dinner to Red Lobster (because he's been talking about going for awhile now) on his actual birthday, Oct 14th and give him his ticket to the show for that weekend, and then we'll all go see a matinee of Jersey Boys that Saturday. So he'll end up seeing us twice in one week.

So $280 (fuck me, right?) later, I'm finally set with - what I hope to be - a great 75th birthday gift to my old man.

I wanted to add the whole, Are you ready to be another grandfather to the mix, but sadly, that won't be happening for his 75th birthday. I just pray it happens in his lifetime.

Just when I thought that I was completely over the D&C and the fact I'm no longer pregnant and no longer going to be a Mom-to-be, I see something on TV that makes me react in a way that freaks out (me and) my wonderful husband.

We both played hooky today and after we did our laundry, we sat in front of the TV and enjoyed some fish and chips. On the TV was some show called The Doctors (I guess it's some Dr. Phil spin-off or something).

We didn't catch the whole episode and turned it on when they were discussing unhealthy food choices made by middle school kids. Then they went on to discuss hysterectomies. Yeah, I thought that was an odd transition, too.

So this woman, 42, goes on the show to tell them that she's terrified of getting a hysterectomy but that because of family history and the fact that she's got 4 kids - all delivered via c-section, her doctor is suggesting she get one.

They discuss the different kinds of hysterectomies - partial, full, whatnot. Then they bring on this Back to the Future type of machine that enables them to perform a certain hysterectomy with this robot and with minimal incisions and a faster recovery.

One of the doctor's asked the doctor representing the machine/robot a question about how they would get the uterus out after it was cut and then the doctor rep starts talking about how they would stick "something" (she named it the actual name but I don't recall the name and the host-doctor asked her to explain what the "something" actually was) in - basically like a rotor router (!!) that would cut up the uterus and then pull it out through the vagina.

I'm not sure why exactly, but their description just put me back to July 30th and I was laying on the gurney with both arms spread out and strapped down, naked under a thin sheet again. In about two seconds I relived the experience of the ice cold room and feeling completely lost; I experienced the nurses asking me to move my butt to fit better into the table's hole where I imagine they stuck something up into me and sucked out the embryo; I experienced waking up when it was all over feeling some of the worst cramps and knowing it was all over.

As fast as the words came out of the TV, the tears welled.

I couldn't stop crying - so much so that I did the angry cry... where I hold my breath and just shake in slow motion. S was next to me and asked what was wrong and just hugged me. And finally after I could breathe, I had to tell him that for some stupid reason, I was brought back to the surgery.

Uck!

Adoption

When I was younger and old enough to start thinking about being a parent one day, I originally didn't want to become one. I thought that there was no way I could bring a child into this world only for him to feel what I felt growing up. But as time progressed and nephews and nieces were brought into my world, I began to truly appreciate the gift that a child really is and I began to think about my future as a Mom. Some days I would want it more than others and as the years progressed even more, the yearning turned more into a definite need.

I need to be a Mom.

That need led me to start thinking about Adoption. And for years now I always thought that I would definitely consider adopting should I not be able to have a child of my own.

But why do I have to wait to "make sure" that there's no hope for birthing a child from own womb? Why do all the websites I visit talk about people deciding to adopt because they're infertile? I realize that many people do choose adoption as a last straw, but why?

I don't want to wait anymore. I'm tired of waiting. I don't want to go through another miscarriage and another surgery. I don't want to get pregnant again only to find out some horrific news. I don't want to go months and months and months without getting pregnant before they start testing or whatever they're going to do. I don't want to endure all that infertile shit.

If I can have a child biologically – fantastic; but why do I have to ensure that I cannot have a biological child before considering adoption? Why can't we just adopt now and play the rest by ear?

Financially, it's not a good idea. We're not poor, but I really do not think we could afford two children right now. Not at the same time. I mean if we had to, of course we'd figure something out - but it wouldn't be easy. But what the hell in life is?

So I've been throwing around Adoption to S lately and he's not too keen on the idea, I don't think.

I remember when we first started dating; we had "the talk" about wanting children, etc. I felt like my clock was ticking extremely fast back then and didn't want to beat around the bush. Fortunately we were both on the same page with both agreeing to want to have children. I also remember a talk about adoption back then, too. And I distinctly remember him saying that he didn't think he wanted to go that route, that he really wanted to have a child of "his own" and if it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be.

But, of course, I didn’t think having a child would be a difficult process – especially when every single woman in my family has had multiple children. Yet here we are 8 1/2 years later and we still don't have a child (though we’ve only been really trying for nine months). And here I am at 36, having gotten pregnant but also having to have a D&C.

If there's one thing I've learned from my recent ... shit ... it’s that I just want to be a Mom. It truly does not matter to me whether or not that child comes from my womb or not. I just want to be a Mom.

And that's what I told S the other day when I brought up the Adoption subject.

Of course, he wants to keep trying the old fashioned way and insists that I’ll get pregnant again soon and that everything will work out fine… and while a part of me is sure he’s right, a bigger part of me still wants to adopt and say FUCK IT to the baby making process. There are so many babies out there that need a home and are in desperate need for a parent right now! And I desperately want to be a parent yet here I sit waiting and waiting and waiting for my time to come.

I know it’s still early. I just had the surgery a month and a half ago. Chances are pretty good (I believe) that I will get pregnant again and then I’m sure everything will be perfect and I’ll have a baby and I’ll become a mom and live happily ever after…

But until then, I’m still going to keep my eye on adoption. It can’t hurt, right? Well, not anymore than not being a mom hurts.

Yep, I’m gonna keep my eyes on blogs like these - http://theygrowinyourheart.wordpress.com/ and http://apathoftheheart.blogspot.com/ - and try to better understand the whole process of adoption… just in case. And from what I can tell, it seems like there’s more African American newborns available here in the US – and at a “cheaper” expense. And since we’re an interracial couple, maybe our chance to adopt quicker is greater than others?!

I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud.

But I would love to hear any stories or advice or anything if you have any – regarding adoption. And if you’d rather not discuss in a comment, let me know and maybe we can exchange emails.

Heavy stuff

I've seen the inside of hospitals more over the past two years than I care to ever see again.

My dad got to ride in a fancy ambulance yesterday.

He was crossing the street to wait for the bus and somehow lost his footing. At first, his right hand stopped his fall but as he felt a ton of pain, he lifted his right hand up and kissed the concrete with his face, nose first. His left hand, after all, was too busy protecting the onions, plums, and tomatoes he just purchased at the grocery store.

He called me from the ambulance about an hour before my work day was originally supposed to come to an end. I left right away because we've had horrendous flooding and I had no idea how long it would take me to get to the hospital.

When I arrived, he was getting an MRI on his head.

Four hours later, we finally left the hospital and dear old Daddio is now the proud owner of 13 stitches in the palm of his hand (ouch!), and a big old cut in his nose along with some scratches.
He's OK. He's fine. He's just... not getting any younger and completely and utterly alone.

And yesterday was just another reminder of that.

------------------------------------------
In other news, I'm meeting up with my nephew's big sister tomorrow for dinner. She contacted me last week about my nephew... reaching out to me because she doesn't know what she's supposed to do about him.

She's worried, she knows I'm worried, and she's hoping I can provide some answers, some help.

She's not my biological niece, but I still consider her my niece - even though it's been over 10 years since we've sat down and had a meal together.

I just hope I can give her some guidance to helpfully help out my nephew.

------------------------------------------
This is all pretty heavy...and I suppose it all can be more 'reasons' why I'm not yet a mom or mom-to-be yet.

I'm still here.

I've been neglecting this blog.

I'm just kind of tired of the negativity and the complaining and the sadness and the anger. What's done is done and it doesn't matter how much I bitch and moan about it, I can't change anything.

That being said, I've decided to start focusing my energy on writing fiction again. It's been years and years since I've written anything. And I really do miss it because it was a great way to escape and it was something to look forward to. And with the abilities to turn a blog into a book (see Blurb.com), why not go for it?

Plus it gives me something to look forward to, something to focus my energy on other than baby making.

And if I happen to get knocked up in the process, splendid. If not... well... maybe we'll need to talk about adoption.

I realize it's only been a month and a half since the surgery but I guess my point is that I'm not going to get all worked up over trying to get pregnant. I'm not tracking shit, I'm not taking my temperature in the morning, I'm not peeing on ovulation sticks. Been there, done that and I won't go through that again.

We'll have sex when we have sex and if that results in a pregnancy, fanfuckingtastic. If not, there's other ways to become a mom.

I guess it's just time to move on.

Feel free to check in here periodically, but I don't think I'll be posting daily anymore... you can always check out my fiction blog at fictional-characters.blogspot.com. It's currently set to private, but I may open it up one day (or you can ask me to email you an invite allowing your email addy to read it... I'm just a bit apprehensive about people stealing my work which is why I have it set to private right now).

On being an Aunt

I've been one to always believe that things happen for a reason... but when it came to my pregnancy ending, believing in a reason was very difficult. For the most part, I keep trying to tell myself that it was because something bad would’ve happened had the pregnancy progressed and that my body and the Universe knew this so ended it before I could fall even more in love and before life could be breathed by the little one. But I hate that reason. I hate that reason because the fact of the matter is that this is just not fair.

I've waited so long to be a mom.


I've sat by and watched what to do and what not to do.


I've seen horrendous mistakes made by others and I've tried to learn from them.


I've seen the gift of a child given to people who simply should not be allowed to procreate.


I've acted like mom, only to be shunned with title of Aunt.




Understand something: I'm proud of my aunthood. I remember becoming an aunt for the first time 21 years ago and my life completely and utterly changing. All of a sudden I had a purpose in life - and that purpose was to do whatever I could to protect "my kids" from enduring pain that wasn't needed.


So I stuck to that vow - even living with one nephew for five years. And I'm proud of my aunthood, I really and truly am.


But is being an Aunt all that I was meant to be in this life? I love the job and I take pride in it, but will I not get my chance to be Mom, too?


I'm not giving up hope entirely on becoming a mom... but in the meantime, I'm needed as Aunt. It's time to put the cape on again.


And while I strap on that cape, I can't help but wonder if this need for my Aunt Powers is another 'reason' why I'm not in my 2nd trimester and preparing for motherhood? Can I not do both jobs at once?

Yesterday was Grandparents Day.

Did you know that?

It's funny because when I was pregnant, I figured that I would share news of the pregnancy with everyone around my birthday. I didn't even realize the day after my birthday was Grandparents Day. How fitting would that have been to tell our parents that they were going to be grandparents (again for my parents) on Grandparents Day?

Maybe next year.

So my period is over with. Just as soon as it smacked my ass down, it went away. Funny how that works sometimes. Good riddance, I say.

Now it's time to play the game of trying to get pregnant again. Yip-fucking-pee. While I enjoy sex - a lot - I have no desire to try to time things perfectly and hold my breath when AF is due again. God, it's such a tiring fucking game.

I'm not going to chart and take my temps either. I'm done with all that. If it happens, it happens. If I end up 50 and childless, I guess I wasn't brought here to be a mother.

As with many things in life, time will tell.

My birthday

So yesterday was the big day - turning yet another year older. Blech. The upper 30s aren't sitting so well with me for some reason.

Friday night was spent having dinner with some gal-pals that I've met and befriended over the past year and half. I've never been one to have a group of friends, but it was a nice experience and one I hope to encounter again.

Yesterday, my actual birthday, was spent doing absolutely nothing. Really. I didn't even shower! ;) S made homemade waffles for breakfast, homemade cheeseburgers for lunch, and then ran out for White Castle (my favs) for dinner - after baking from scratch a chocolate pudding cake! Plus, HE CLEANED THE KITCHEN! :)


I took one nap, played on the computer, watched some tv, and then before bed, received a massage from S. :)

It was a very nice, do-nothing type of day... and it was Plan B for the birthday.

S originally planned to take me to go apple picking and hayrides, then spend the night at a hotel but because of the bad rain he figured it would be too muddy out to enjoy the apple picking. Plus, I had the worst period of my life on Friday so he pretty much assumed I wouldn't want to do much of anything on Saturday.

We still get to do Plan A, just not on my actual birthday. I'm very much looking forward to it, truth be told.

The only 'problem' with my birthday and the way it was spent was that I caught myself a couple times envisioning what it would be like if I had a kid or two by now. I'm 36 after all. I think my mother was only a couple years from becoming a grandmother when she was 36.

When I was laying in bed for my nap yesterday, I actually envisioned a child or two - both under 5 - running up and jumping onto the bed with me and shouting, "Happy Birfday Mommy!" When S brought out the cake with the lit toothpick (at least he tried), I caught myself thinking that a child should be singing Happy Birthday, too.

I guess that's why I'm not the biggest fan of birthdays... you spend (well at least I spend) too much time reflecting on what could've or should've been. Meh, it is what it is though and what I do have - an incredibly supportive and loving husband - is simply awesome. I really can't complain so instead I'll just say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

TGIF

I didn't sleep well last night. I've got consistent cramps and lots of bleeding. And I stupidly didn't use tampons because I didn't think I was supposed to for my first period after the surgery. I don't know why I thought that and even S told me to just use them, but I didn't. So the bleeding and the cramps were pretty hard to deal with whilst sleeping and I actually woke up crying because I thought I had bled everywhere!

How old am I again?

Ugh. Today I'm wearing tampons. Fuck pads. I can't believe I went a good twenty years of menstruating with pads! I can't believe I didn't start wearing tampons until just about five or six years ago?! I don't know how I did it!

Anyway, enough of that.

S told me yesterday that I sounded better. He said I sounded like the sweet girl he fell in love with and married. Yeah, I've been pretty miserable the past month. First I had to deal with the loss, then the surgery, then healing. Then I apparently had horrid PMS... so much so that I apparently turn into a different person and actually sound different.

I believe him, too, because oddly I feel better about us today. I'm ashamed to admit that the last couple of weeks, I actually thought that I could leave my husband and just be by myself for the rest of my life!

Ack, it's just good to be back to me again and it's good that it's finally Friday!

A new day

Yesterday turned out to be a rough day for me as proven through my reaction of getting my period. But today's a new day and that means the world, once again, is my oyster - something I learned from my dearly departed grandfather as he used to say, "Everything is new because today's a new day" after answering his own question of "What's new?"

God I miss that man. So, so much.

Sure I have my period which means no pregnancy right now, but it also means that everything is in working order and my chances of getting pregnant again are pretty damn good. It also means that some, if not a lot, of the irritability should dissipate. And that's damn good news for everyone involved! ;)

Maybe now I can lighten up about my 36th birthday in two days... it is, after all, just a stupid number and lord knows that I don't *feel* like I'm inching closer and closer to the big 4-0.

Anyway, here's to a new day where everything is a new!

Unexpected

It's funny how you can spend time thinking how you might react to something if it were to happen and then when it happens, you react in a completely different way - or in a way that surprises you.

When I POAS last Friday and clearly got only one line, I wasn't really upset or anything. I wasn't really... anything...if that makes sense. I just accepted it and moved on and had no real thoughts about it. It is what it is, after all.

Moments ago, however, I just went to the bathroom and when I wiped, I saw pink on the tissue. Apparently the gates are opening and AF is deciding to visit now - three days before my birthday. Why not, right?

Anyway, when I saw the pink and then looked at my panties and saw a blurry smudgy spot of red/brown, my heart practically sank and tears immediately formed in my eyes.

And as I type this, I'm finding it almost hard to breathe as the tears fall out of my eyes.

One after the other.

I wasn't expecting this reaction whatsoever.

I can't stop crying.

It's like it's really real now. Yesterday I was reminded of the D and C when I got the bill for it. Today I get my period.

It really did happen.

I was pregnant one day... not so long ago.

I was really going to become a mom finally.

For four weeks, it became more and more real that life was growing inside me and I was finally going to become the mom I've wanted to become for so, so long.

And then one day, the doctor told me there was no more hope for growth. The doctor told me he was 100% sure it was over.

Just like that.

After 7 months of trying to get pregnant... it was all over.

And the next day I had the surgery.

And now, 34 days later, I'm finally menstruating.

And the tears flood my eyes again.

:(

I just truly was not expecting this sort of reaction.

Day 35

Ugh. I've never had to wait this long for my period and it really sucks. I'll POAS Saturday if still no AF.

I got a second notification yesterday regarding my insurance not covering the D and C. I was in near tears when I opened it up and saw the charge for the procedure - $6900. For fuck's sake. And I'm sure they won't cover it because it probably reads as an abortion. That's the most sickening part of this.

Whatthefuckever.

S is going to talk to the insurance as soon as I sign a HIPAA release form stating they can discuss it with him. Hopefully something can be worked out.

I'm tired of complaining... so if I don't post much these days, that's why - I'm waiting for some good news.

Labor Day

Well it's been 33 days since the surgery and still no sign of AF. I did POAS Friday and it was, without a doubt, only one line (negative). In a way I was relieved because at least it means that when I do get a BFP, it won't be a false positive... right? But in another sense, I was a little down because it means I still have to play the Waiting Game.

And I'm just not a big fan of the Waiting Game.

I've never had to wait this long to get my period. I (obviously) had very regular cycles when I was on the Pill for umpteen years - and up till I got my BFP two months ago, my cycles were still very regular, never going over 30 days.

And here I am at 33 days.

I won't POAS again until my birthday on Saturday, though because any other PMS or BFP symptoms just aren't there: My boobs don't hurt; I've had cramps here and there but only for a couple minutes at a time and very sporadically; I've always had a pretty keen sense of smell so yesterday's raunchy reaction to potatoes (they were cooked like risotto) wasn't too abnormal I don't think; I've always had sporadic heart burn so who knows if that's a 'symptom'.

S says the doctor told me it could take a couple months for my body to realize that I need to get my period again so all I can do is wait.

I suppose it's for the best anyway as I haven't been getting much sleep lately due to where I live. Have I bitched about that lately?

Yeah, I hate where I live. I hate my neighbors, I hate the commute, I hate everything about where I live except for one thing - my husband. If it weren't for him, I'd be outta here yesterday.

Ugh.

We have so much shit to do today because yesterday was spent as if we were hungover due to getting no sleep the night before... not because we wanted this to happen but because the neighbors below us decided to have a party till 5AM and then one of the party goers realized her key was in the house with all the passed out drunk people. It's enough to make me vomit so I'm not going there. I'm just fucking tired of being this old and living but a bunch of people who should be in a fucking frat house or something.

So today when we should be doing nothing but relaxing, we have to clean clean clean and go out and do some laundry. And it's fucking hot out again.

God, am I just a big ol' ray of sunshine these days.

I really need to change my tune. Really and desperately. I'm sick and tired of doing nothing but bitching lately... it's draining.