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.

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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.

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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.