Bea

holy hell, my comfy home is now a house of horrors for children

Without wanting to a make a whole song and dance about it, we are currently trying to rent our home so that we can try living somewhere new. This is despite loving our neighbours and neighbourhood, of course, and is because we are creatures who grow moss if we stay in one spot too long. That, and we're trying to see how many address books we can get our families to buy before we settle down. Hoo-boy, is it ever driving my mother nuts.   Entertainment that money can not buy.

The other day we had a very lovely couple come and look at our home. They made all the right noises, said how lovely the home was etc. etc. 

And then they said they had a 2-yr old and 3-yr old.

All of a sudden, my home became a DEATH TRAP FOR CHILDREN. Everywhere I looked I saw hazards that made it obvious we don't have kids:

Voila! One INCINERATOR OF SMALL FINGERS.

And perfect for your little ones, one DECK-WITH-NO-RAIL OF DEATH

And wait, just when you thought there could be no more : POOL OF STAGNANT WATER FOR DROWNING                                                --->

Don't get me wrong, all the death traps are legal (the best kind of death traps!)  and only need a fireguard, railing and emptying to make it child friendly (right? TELL ME I'M RIGHT?!), but man was it ever a sharp wake up call to the changes that we would need to make should we find ourselves expecting a small guest....and I'm not talking about a gnome.

Not surprisingly, the lovely couple did not rent our home and instead chose something that would not kill their offspring more closely met their needs. And of course we're expecting another lovely, childless, couple to rent our place instead. Or, you know, one person to rent. All it takes is one. 

But now I'm thinking about our new place - with it's fancy railed deck, no pools of water and lack of fireplace  (do not get me started on the whole NO HEATING situation) - and so looking forward to a bit of a fresh start. Maybe I'm superstitious, but I can't help but think that this place is a big stagnant for me right now, that I'm holding on to the experiences of December and February and expecting the worse when I should be planning for and expecting the BEST of things to happen. Because the best does happen to fantastic people every day. 

Heck, it's a long weekend. And if that doesn't say LOTS OF SEX, well then, you're just not reading between the lines. 

kickin' the definition of family to the curb

Two years ago this month, after a particularly fantastic day with our nieces during a holiday in Florida, David and I made the crazy decision to 'try for a family'. It was hardly as clinical as that, and certainly not done with a rational conversation. It was, more,....ahem...in the heat of things, so to speak, that we took the, er, plunge.

Now, don't get me wrong, we hadn't been drinking copious amounts and weren't thinking that a baby would be a laugh. No, in the cold (actually warm, is was Florida after all) light of day we got excited at the thought. Giddy with the possibility of having our own kid to play with, swim with, who would be a cousin to our nieces. I took my nieces on walks and couldn't help but daydream about doing the same with my own little girl (or boy, either would be just great).

Back home, the fun continued. We were relaxed, easy going about it all. And then I turned 34, which felt way to close to 35. And a couple of months later I asked our doctor about fertility tests. And then 6 months after that David agreed to testing too. And just at the point that laparoscopy was mentioned, I was pregnant.

Whaddayaknow, here we are now at 2 years and there is no baby to laugh with. But that doesn't mean we don't laugh. And does it mean that we're not a family? Can two people, plus three cats, equal a family? My answer is yes, because a family is more than just a baby and two parents and goodness knows that there is a lot of families out there that have left the Cleaver's behind to eat their dust. I have someone to come home to, to talk to, who is looking forward to me coming home. We're a family, just a small one at this stage. 

I once had someone at work claim that because I was single I had no family to consider should I be made redundant, where as he had more to worry about because he had a kid. And ok, I'd freak out too if I had a kid and was being made redundant, but that didn't mean that because I was single that I wasn't worried about it - I was a family, of one. No-one was going to come to my rescue, there was no-one else who was going to put food on my table, I had to provide for myself. And I did the same for David when he wanted to start his own business, because he's my family. And he's done the same for me when I needed a break, because that's what family does. 

We know families that are blended, that have single parents, that have no parents, that have no kids and even that have two biological parents who are still married. And they are all families, with their own definition. Like lots of people out there, we're just trying to figure out how we'll get the family we're meant to have and defining our family as we go. 

straight from the closet - domestic goddess

Why is it that you only hit your holiday stride after a week on holiday? Perhaps I just take that long to de-compress and become a bit more normal.

The old biological tock has been tick-tocking and has manifested itself via some rhubarb muffins this morning, the completion of one project and near completion of a second. I've so enjoyed actually working on something that has a product at the end, one where you can see the progress while you're working on it. Ok, and something that's for a little person. 

               model required!

The second project is a smock or apron for crafting and general mucking around. It's my first project using a pattern and it was an experiment to see if I could. I ran out of binding for the neckline and ties at the back, but you get the idea.

pockets for sweets, glue, spoons etc. 

I love the idea of making something unique and not available at your local store - plus the added bonus of extra love included. 

in need of a high-school guidance counsellor

One of the reasons I took this week as a holiday was to try and figure out what I want to be when I grow up  do when my current contract ends in January 2010. It's a very fortunate position, to be sure. The company I contract to is willing to hear me out on my dreams and wishes and help me work towards achieving them. All I have to do is tell them what I want. And that there is the stick in the spokes of my career bicycle. I don't know. 

The following is a list that I conjured up yesterday of things I could do:

1. Continue doing my current role

2. Quit and become a house wife *

3. Blog full time

4. Write a book while blogging full-time

5. Manage the office I work in currently 3 days per week, write resource material 1 day per week, and work a 4 day week

6. Write resource 2 days per week, and do 50% of what I do now 2 days per week

7. Write resource and articles 2 days per week, do 50% of what I do now 2 days per week

8. Have a baby, and put off the decision for another 9 months**

9. Start Personal Training 2 days per week***, write resources etc for 2 days per week

10. Teach 1 day per week, write 2 days per week, manage 1 day per week

11. Write a book

12. Write a cook book

13. Learn how to cook

14. Become a Rabbi ****

15. Sell houses

16. Knit teeny weeny sweaters for teeny weeny people

17. Sew teeny weeny dresses for teeny weeny people

18. Re-train to become a web guru

19. Become a property developer, and blog about it

The irony of all of this is that part of my current role is helping others to figure out what they want to do and find a path for them to achieve it. Of course, I work in just one industry doing this but still, why can't I figure this out for myself.

I have no memories of wanting to be a ballerina, or fireman, or superhero as a kid. I didn't go to University with an end in mind. I didn't think about how I wanted to live and what I wanted my life to look like. I know that there are lots of people in the same boat. But know that I have the opportunity to think about it, man, does it ever give me writers block. 

And, seriously, am I really complaining about the fact that my employer is ASKING me what I want to do with my life? And that I don't know? WHO DOES THAT IN THIS ECONOMY? The opportunity is overwhelming. Oh, woe is me. 

However will I decide? Have you got a magic way of figuring out this stuff? If so, tell me! Don't leave me alone with this decision, I'm hardly grown up enough to do it on my own. 

* David would have a heart attack if this happened. As would our Bank Manager.

** Comedy gold!

*** Requires me to get my ass in to gear and drop the 10 pounds extra I'm carrying

**** This one comes from my high school guidance counsellor, maybe he was right all along [yes, I'm female and anglican, but these are progressive days, right?]

breakings news on ovulation '09

Ok, not breaking news. Not interesting news. But news in the sense that it is, well, new. I finally had a conversation with my doctors office about the blood test last week. The following is a near-enough accurate representation of the conversation:

Me: Hi, I'm calling for the blood test results from my blood test last Wednesday

Dragon lady receptionist: Well, we don't call you, we're not meant to chase you, you have to call us

Me: Uh, ok? So, I'm calling about the blood test results

DLR: Dr. W is out at the moment

Me: Uh, ok? Is the nurse available to talk to then?

DLR: I'll SEE

Quick cut to elevator music and no explanation

Nurse: Hi can I help?

Me: Yes please, I'm calling about the results of my blood test last week.

Nurse: We left you a message at home.

Me: Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't get the message.

Nurse: We need you to call in, we can't chase you.

Me: Yes, I understand that. 

Nurse: So what is it that you want to know?

Me: My blood test results, please.

Nurse: Ok....let's see. Yup, you had blood taken last Wednesday [THANK YOU CAPTAIN OBVIOUS]....what was it you were looking for?

Me: I had a conversation with Dr W regarding an unusual cycle and she wanted to check my FSH, LH and Progesterone levels

Nurse: Yeah, they all look fine.

Me: Fine?

Nurse: Yes. You ovulated. So if you're period is late, you're pregnant [oh, the BENINE HILARITY OF IT ALL]

Me: Ok, thanks. I'm not pregnant. But thanks for the results. 

Nurse: Ok. Bye.

And that's IT. No conversation about why I was bleeding for 15 days. No, what to do next. No, would you like to see the doctor. At $35 per 15 minute session, is it ok for me to expect more?

when history repeats itself OR I am my mothers daughter.

In November 1974 my mother was 28, nearing 29. I was just a couple of weeks shy of one years old. My brother, well, he was still in utero and my mom was just in her third trimester*. She was also standing , next to my Dad**, in the customs and immigration line at the Toronto airport. 

My parents were not fleeing a terrible life in England. They had a good one complete with a house, good job and tons of family members near by just lining up to take care of those grandchildren. They left for the adventure, to try something new and with the agreement that it would just be for a year. 34 years later, they're still there. Life has been good to them, to be sure, but they've also worked hard to make it good.

Those first couple of years were tough, so says Mum. Two small kids, no family to look after them, trying to get a handle on new health, banking and tax systems. Dad at work, Mum at home. There was no email, no skype, no cheap phone call deals. She called my Grandmother once a month, and sent letters constantly. 

The reason for this story, no, not story. The reason for telling this history is to remind myself that it could be harder for us. Sure, we moved as far away as we could (although that's not why we chose NZ***) but we do have all of these modern conveniences that mean I can sit down and have a coffee and a chat with my mum, look her in the eye and grill her about her early experiences. Video calls? Likely the saviour of my sanity on the really hard days. 

I'm proud of the choices my parents made. Because of their willingness to take on a challenge, I had an idyllic childhood. I walked to school, biked to the beach and never worried about being unsafe. Never felt unsafe. In my memory, the sky was always blue, the summers hot and winters cold with snow. I went to good schools, had good friends, and was never tempted to rebel. Why would I? Things were GOOD. 

I know, it's not really a page turner this story, but it is my story. And I guess this is about realising how lucky I am to have a boring nice story to tell. No strife or trauma, no uphill battle both ways to get what everyone else was getting. And if my children can tell a similarly boring story about days at the beach, good schools and opportunities taken, I will consider my job done. 

Bluewater Bridge, in Sarnia (my home-town, my parents new-town)

*another post, another day; my mother also struggled with fertility! Ah, the loving torch being handed from mother to daughter. 

** Mum had the kids AND the luggage. Go figure. 

*** Top Tip: make sure you check the home heating situation before you emigrate, who knew that the majority of homes in NZ have NO CENTRAL HEATING. Not me. 

holiday induced panic

It's the first day of the week, and it's glorious. Really! Ok, the holiday from work this week may have something to do with it, and coffee and toast in bed this morning certainly didn't hurt. But, the lack of rush to get things done over the weekend in preparation for the week, and now the lack of rushing through the day definitely does the blood pressure some good. 

I thought I'd spend some time this week trying to figure what I want to be when I grow up since I'm 35 and getting the feeling that it's high time I figured it out. And then I'd pack the house for the move at the end of the month (yes, we're moving, but I can't talk about it until afterwards, I get THAT stressed about moving). And then I'd finish knitting the sweater I began a couple of weeks ago. And maybe make a skirt that I bought the pattern and material for oh...about 4 months ago. And get a haircut. And got to a spa for an afternoon ( I KNOW how lucky I am). And skype with my parents. And write letters to my nieces. And sell my car. And buy a new car. And maybe call the doctor about a referral to a fertility specialist. And then, all of a sudden, the week looked really busy. 

Deep breaths. Innnnnnn. Annnnnnnnnd. Oooooooutt. 

Calm Down.

Chill.

And that's when we took a walk to the beach and basked in the unexpected 20 degree surprise by the sea.

And suddenly, I stopped to panic so much.

The vitamin D started to kick in. I really did take a deep breath. And began to feel like I was on holiday.

blah blah ovulation tests blah blah sex book blah blah

Today marked the last of the 7 ovulation tests I had bought last week. Now the pregnancy tests sits on its own, literally waiting in hope. Ok, kinda, but not really. Of course, it would be out of this world to be pregnant, but I'm feeling like this isn't it. With the wacky start to the cycle, it's likely this cycle won't be the one. And I'm ok with that, really. A break is a good thing, right?

Anywho, just in case you are intersted, here are ovulation test #6 (on the top) and #7 (on the bottom). Number 7 is very light, not that it means anything here*.

handy dandy time wasters

In other news (there's other news?), after taking a cursory look at the 'Making Babies' book I tossed it aside in exchange for something way more interesting and entertaining: Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex. The author, Mary Roach, is simultaneously entertaining and, at times, comical and still manages to make the science sound interesting. It's rare that I veer from fiction as I'd rather get lost in someone else's world than the real thing, but this has been such a welcome departure from 'managing your infertility'.  

So, run down to your library, grab a copy and prepare to be entertained AND gather heaps of topics for your next dinner party. You're bound to be invited again with this kind of talking matter!

* or, apparently, the doctors office. There's been no word on yesterdays test, and I was way to busy to phone them today (and maybe that's a good thing?)

When in doubt, poas.

After some time for reflection on my last doctors appointment, I did what any normal woman would do. I spent $23 on 7 ovulation sticks (with free pregnancy test included!). The doctor seemed to think that I should have been ovulating just about the time I saw her, but I have my doubts about the counting of cycle days she was doing. By my count, the 7th of May would have been day 14 and so I took peeing on a stick on the 8th of May.

I'm a habitual late ovulater, and while I've had a couple of months here and there that have seen me ovulating bang on cycle day 14 it's a rare one. I have a sneaky suspicion that I might have ovulated WAY too early in this cycle like cd 8 or even 11. I only think this because of some ewcm spotted on those days. Seems unfair, as I was still spotting and cramping on cd 8 and still cramping by cd 11. Hardly the stuff of a romantic run up to baby making. 

And since you're probably already bored of reading about my ovulation woes, here's a picture of the last 5 ovulation tests (cd 15-19, from top to bottom):

Nothing remarkable here: no ups, no downs.

 (p.s. you can click on the photo to make it bigger if you're REALLY interested)

Today I'll be heading to the blood lab to have some blood drawn. The doctor has ordered this to look at:

a) progesterone, this will tell us whether I have already ovulated or not

b) follicle stimulating hormone (FSH)

c) lutenising hormone (LH, the very thing the pee sticks are looking for too)

d) oestradiol (or Estradiol for the Americans among you)

Dr. Wikipedia has a very handy graph that shows where these hormones are meant to be during any time of your cycle:

So I guess what we're looking for today is a drop in pretty much all of the hormones except for progesterone. Because, if the progesterone is rising or high than this might well mean, well, you know. 

 

Last point, this month marks 2 years of wild no protection sex. 2 years! Does it seem a bit odd then that this is the book the doctor recommend me to read?

Maybe we should have had this 18 months ago instead? I dunno, maybe I'm just a little cynical. 

surrounded by genius

I don't know how I lucked out, but man did I ever grow up with some amazingly talented people. Two in particular stand out at the moment. One is my brother who by day is a very enthusiastic music director for a school district, and by night (and day) is an extremely talented musician and scientist -a music scientist if you will. 

The other is a woman who I met when we were both 5. Over the following 13 years we became best of friends weathering the trials and tribulations of growing up in a small border town. We even were in the same ballet class during the early days. While I moved on to girl guides and swimming, Lucy continued a life-long passion for dance and is now a phenomenal artist and choreographer. Her work is inspiring and a constant reminder of how much the human body can represent the human spirit.

Lucy is now 8 months pregnant. She also has a wicked sense of humour. It is with great pride, joy, and laughter that I have to share this video with you of Lucy warming up. Yes, that's right. She's 8 months pregnant and moving her body in ways I could only dream of. It's a touch of envy, with a whole lot of 'holy crap that's awesome!'.