Bea

where my husband is grateful for public health care

A reader (hi Eddie!) commented yesterday that he hoped things were going well (wink wink, nudge, nudge) while we waited for the, hopefully inevitable, call from the health system. And then it hit me that I hadn’t really thought about trying or not trying since I got the letter.

I think a big part of me has just put a ‘tick’ next to that thing on the to-do list, that thing about making a baby, and in my mind I figured that something was in the works so I might as well get on with other things while I wait. That alone, the compartmentalizing of that to-do item, is WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD.

Do you know how many minutes, hours, days I have spent worrying, counting where I am in this cycle, looking at our social calendar, my work calendar and trying to figure out whether this month, this month right here and no other, will be THE MONTH? Countless, that’s how many. There is not enough Botox in the world to counter-act the two lines that have been created between my eyes from concentration and worry.

There is part of me that feels like time is ticking. Not ticking by like I’m losing time, but ticking down to THE CALL. Its like I have an unknown finite amount of time to get things figured out, set up and sorted so that when THE CALL comes through I’ll be ready. WE will be ready.

It’s probably the most calm, cool and collected I’ve been in a long time. And for that, my husband thanks the Waitemata Health Board.  whr

Disclaimer: (because you knew there had to be one) the calm and serenity you witness here today is not legally binding, and therefore can NOT be used in evidence should the author throw herself into super-analysation mode and commence obsessing about ….anything. It’s a woman’s prerogative.

if home is where the heart is, what's this place?

If home is where the heart is, sometimes my home is not where I am. I miss a Tim Horton's drive-thru, a car with a dozen more cup-holders than you'll ever need, browsing Old Navy, having friends to drop in on that have known you for years. 

I know that if we moved back to Canada, it would mean starting all over again. Those friends, they have lives they've been building for the past 8 years too. Tim Horton's would soon be taken for granted, as would the cup-holders and Old Navy. But there are days when it looks like so inviting. When taking the road that I think I know looks good and warm and inviting.

It's these sort of thoughts that tell you it's Sunday night. I'm planning for another week of balancing work, training and business and it's looking a little overwhelming. 

What's your trick to staying sane when the 'to-do' list is longer than the 'done' list? 

just to make you happy

 Thanks to Maggie @ MightyGirl

oh brother.

1978 - I was 5 and he was 4, we played together because that's what you do at 5 and 4. In the backyard, breeze blowing, watched by my grandparents.

1992 - I was 17, he was 16. My parents worried, me confused, he was in the hospital for having self-destructing thoughts. He wouldn't talk to me, look at me.

1996 - I was 23, he was 22. Both of us students, neither of us talking. If asked, I'm not sure that we even knew each other's telephone numbers.

2004 - I was 30, he was 29. He came to my wedding, with his girlfriend, but I don't remember talking to him. 

2008 - I was 34, he was 33. I ironed his suit, he gave me a hug. I stood at his wedding, his girlfriend now his wife, and witnessed both their wedding and his happiness. He thanked me for my help. I glowed with pride. We hugged goodbye.

and you want me to double that?

Here's a brave thing to admit: I've committed to doing a standard length triathlon on December 13th. THIS YEAR. Because I don't have enough to think about already.

A few years ago, before we even thought about having a family, I bravely said 'I'd like to do a standard length triathlon before getting pregnant'. I had already completed a few sprint triathlons, could push myself to do a 10k race if I had to and have always found the swimming part easy. As in, '3 hours straight swimming is so much FUN' easy. 

Then we started on this family pathway and things, well, they got side tracked. Put on the back burner. Lost behind the couch. Exercise became just one more thing on the 'to-do' list, instead of something that I had always enjoyed and looked forward to. 

My lovely friend, and now training partner, mentioned this triathlon on December 13th. And we talked about how we could do the spring distance in December, and then work our way up to the standard length for April 2010. 

When we looked at the training plan for the sprint race our reaction was 'p-shaw, we already do that and more now, where's the challenge?'. We must have had a couple of drinks, because the next thing I know we've agreed on the standard length and now just have 12 weeks to get ready. TWELVE weeks. 

This morning we did our first 'brick' workout as a bit of a benchmark for where we are now. We decided the sprint distance would be a good marker. 500m swim, 20k bike and 5k run. One hour and 20 minutes later I was seriously questioning our sanity. That was SLOW and HARD and....ugh the work that needs to be done.

December 13th means 1500m swim, 40k bike and 10k run. 

Now that I'm on the couch having had a good breakfast and a little nap, the 'good' angel on my shoulder is whispering sweet nothings in my ear:

But you've done hard before.

You've done hard, and then LOVED it.

All good things take hard work, sacrifice, focus. You CAN do this. 

Imagine the cake you'll be able to eat after all that training.

 SHE HAD ME AT CAKE. Ok, not really, but nice side-benefit.

Twelve weeks it is.

It's just one of the things on the to-do list before Christmas. What's on yours before we see 2010?

time management

Time is critical. Isn't that always the case?

I've got a list as long as my arm of things I want to achieve before Christmas. In fact, a good portion of that list needs to be done before I hit 36. Which is before Christmas. 

As a result of this time crunch, I've been making some serious efforts to automate as much of my life as I can. Bill payments etc, direct debited. The household chores, scheduled one per day. Groceries? Ordered online.

As you may know from some of my photos, I have long-ish hair. That is naturally half-assed curly and straight and so can take some time to make presentable. Do you know where I'm going here? No? This is where I'm considering going:

Imagine the time saved!

What time saving tips can you share? A minute or two, here and there, makes all the difference!

The Letter

Ah, Waitemata District Health Board. How you amuse me so. What, with your 6 month window for a possible appointment and thinly veiled sarcastic assumption that I would not call you if my situation changed. 

"Please inform us if you no longer require your appointment as we have an excess demand for patients awaiting treatment."

I AM ONE OF THOSE PATIENTS AWAITING TREATMENT. How can I advise you that I don't need the appointment that you have not yet given me?

None-the-less, I am thrilled to be on the waiting list. After all, the waiting part is what you get with free health care. And put that next to not-free health care, and the waiting list looks pretty good. And really, just as well. It's not like the money's rolling in and we've got tons to spare should I find myself knocked up, even though we're working on the money part of the plan too. 

Just in case, if any of you have had a referral gynecology appointment with the Waitemata DHB, pipe up and tell me how it went, won't you? I'm an information junkie, and any experience you have to share will be soaked up like a dry sponge would soak up that glass of wine I just spilled. 

calculators: why math and I have never been friends

It's a well known family fact that I don't like math. Which is a bit unfair, given that math in my mind is all calculus and algebra and not dollars and cents (which is  math I DO like, and apparently and am fairly competent in). 

As a teenager, my inability to get along with math led to an annual trip out to Radio Shack, or Sears, or another generic department store to find the best scientific calculator money could buy to help me through another year of calculations I would never use in my adult life. I went along on the shopping trip because it was one of the few times of the year that I spent with my Dad alone, and for him I think it was because he felt like he was sharing one of his passions with his off-spring. 

Despite my early aversion to math, I'm still finding myself attracted to calculators but of a different kind. And while a couple of weeks ago the calculator I found was most definitely an enemy, this weeks calculator is a little friendlier:

Those are numbers I can march proudly towards my 36th birthday with. Because, after all, it's just a numbers game, right? Heck according to this, sometime in 2010 we will have a 100% CHANCE OF CONCEIVING. I like those odds, however odd they are. 

We're still waiting for the letter from the public health system regarding a referral to their ob/gyn unit and a likely laparoscopy. And no, I haven't called Fertility Associates yet. Lots of excuses, some involving money, and a big one that I can't discuss right here. 

The calculator though, if you're interested, was discovered after completing the fertility survey here. Go ahead and complete the survey if you're been trying to conceive for a while. It took me about 20 minutes and made me feel like I was being all scientific-y.

so that's what it's like when readers don't agree with you, or each other

Last week, on a whim, I took up on Jane Yee's invitation to write a post on her blog while she was away relaxing on the gold coast. I offered to go to the gold coast for her to help her keep the blog her own, but valiantly she declined. Ah well.

I wrote the post here. I was not ready for the number, or variance, of responses. 

Last count was 69 comments, and I'm the first to recognise that's a number that has yet to be reached right here chez bea. And as for the comments?

Cyberaxx was a great start, and a truly lovely analogy for this odd journey we're on:

And in general, the comments were lovely, encouraging and although they didn't all share my point of my view the comments were thoughtful and well written. To be fair, there was a couple that made me take a sharp in take of breath:

Ouch, those stung. And before you point it out, yes I know that this is what you get when you put your thoughts out to share with the general public. But still, ouch. Maybe the post wasn't clear that I actually do want a family, but still that's a lot of judge-y going on. 

Kids or no kids, it's your choice. I'm not here judging you because of those choices. I am not here to quiz you about why you make the choices you do. I'm just here to support you in whatever way a friend can. 

And on that note, I need to take a breather. I have to thank Jane for allowing me to stand in her place for a day, but even more than that I have to thank Hubby (comment number 66) whose comment started like this:

If you have the time, read the rest of his comment. Because readers like Hubby are why I blog.