Wordless Wednesday: Load 'em Up

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I use Google Reader to stay updated with the world wide web. I started out with Bloglines, and eventually made the big switch, since I am always signed into my G-Mail account while catching up on blogs and such.

Just made it easier.

Easier is good.

Since I have a slight OCD (ok, maybe major) with organization and categorization to keep things in order, I have all the blogs broken into categories. I have my food blogs, fashion/decorating blogs, gossip blogs, Braces Bunch girls in one list, etc.

I stuck myself in the "IF Treatment" category at the beginning of my blog journey, and it took me until I was 28 weeks pregnant to feel comfortable to move myself to "The Other Side" category. Now I rest in "Parents after IF" and I'm so glad to see so many of my blog friends in that same category!

In the past 6 months, I found myself needing to create a new category: "Pregnant after IF".

First, please, please, please know that I know and appreciate the fact that I can even put myself in any category that has the word parent in it. I want to move all the people in my "IF Treatment" and "Adoption" category to "Parents after..."

I just find myself in that limbo space where the green monster of jealousy rears its ugly head. Its partly because of the recent skin results, its partly because of the battle in my own head if I even want to add to our family, and it's partly because I know that we have less than a 1% chance of ever conceiving naturally. The whole idea of "Oh now that you've been pregnant by doing IVF, you'll have an easier time getting pregnant on your own" does.not.apply.to.me. I have to go into that explanation that we are dealing with male factor, so no matter how fertile I am, the chances are so incredibly slim it makes the pain of IF so raw all over again. Don't even get me started on the finances of it all....

And then I smile a wry smile, looking over at my walking little O-man and think back on the past week when I felt I was barely able to handle him. What on earth would I do with two?!

So these are just my minds thoughts, and as always, it helps to just write it out and let my feelings be what they are. I know I'm allowed to feel the way I do, but I don't want my friends in the "Pregnant After" and the "Adopting After" category to feel I am any less of a friend. I just have to put the green monster in check and work through these feelings and get them categorized in the right place.

Friendly Skies

I remember the long lines at security. I remember the horrendous 3 hour delay in the Atlanta airport. I remember the woman who cut me off in the breezeway. I remember having a hard time fitting my carry on bag into the designated space beneath the seat.

But I do not remember licking the floor of the plane. 

I apparently did though, and then gave Oman a kiss, because about 24 hours after we returned from our lovely trip to California--the Oman and I came down with some serious crud.

And I'm that person who has the sani-wipes and germ-x in hand at all times. So how is that possible?!

Ugg. We have been soo sick since Thursday. It has not been fun at all. I won't give you all the gory details, because I'm pretty sure I might get sick all over again just thinking about it.

These past few days I really felt challenged as a mom. There were not moments, but minutes, where I just couldnt figure out what to do. I was running to the bathroom, Oman was sch-ahh-reaaaaming, and I just couldn't keep up. I felt like a terrible mom. Moms are supposed to just know how to figure it out, right?  I mean good grief, I finally had to call my Mom and ask her to drive over 2 hours to come and rescue us because I couldn't even pick Oman up. (Thank you, Mommy!)

Mook felt so helpless being 2 states away for work. We haven't seen him for over 2 weeks, so I definitely heard the Hallelujah chorus playing in my head when his plane landed on Saturday.

So as I go back to eating my saltines and drinking my Gatorade,may this serve as a reminder when flying the friendly skies, make every effort to keep your tongue off the floor.

Suck My Duck

Oh the things that can be inferred from that title.

My thoughts regarding all this skin stuff: "Suck it!"
My thoughts about my exhaustion from being a single parent 5 days a week: "Suck it!"
My thoughts regarding being in a different time zone during Daylight Saving Time: "Suck it!"
My thoughts about Daylight Saving Time in general: "Suck it!"


Thank you for all your thoughts and abiding with me while I navigate this new phase...I'm definitely still in a mental space where I'm not quite sure how to take it all in--especially the family building part of it. My results came back and I have advanced a stage for one of the moles-so if I get any other growth back, I will need further surgery. The MRI is on hold (thank goodness!) unless I see growth for the cyst. I go back in three months for another check up.

So how am I dealing with it? I did what any person would do!

I hopped on a plane with a one-year-old by myself to travel across the country.

 
But it was so worth it.



O-man and I are currently out in Cali to help Rotten and family celebrate Miss C's first birthday. I absolutely love that the two kiddos were able to be with each other for their special days--I came out for sunshine, and when they came to us last month, they got snow!


But really, I have been anxious to tell a certain someone to "Suck it!" and more specifically to "Suck My Duck!"

This is my new friend, Patrick--the certain someone who I've been waiting to meet in person. A bit of a back story: Rotten has a pretty sweet collection of Rubber Ducks, and when I found out that one of her friends was on a mission to find her the smallest Rubber Duck in existence, I decided that I, in fact, would find the smallest one in existence. What can I say? I love a challenge. And lucky for me, so does Mook. My darling hubby ended up finding a Rubber Duck that is made for a dollhouse--and it is TINY!

And just to really rub it in, we made a shirt for me to wear to C's birthday party yesterday, knowing Patrick would be there.  

The party was great, the company is even better, and just to top it all off: O-man is once again, trying to show off for his woman. He has been toddling at home along the furniture, but he has really been walking here! I love it! And Miss C started walking at our house. How cool is that? He's also learned how to drink from a straw, and how to dismount off the couch without going head first into the floor!

So while I may not be finished feeling like I need to tell the universe to "Suck it!", I feel refreshed and renewed being in the sunshine and surrounded by great friends (and their great families!) Happy Birthday, C! We are so glad we are here to celebrate with you and watch you two trouble makers have fun!

The End?

Heavy stuff ahead. Got some coffee? A glass of wine?

To preface the rest of this post, last May I posted this

I didn't give too many details at the time--it was all sort of shocking, I guess. Let me also say, that I know that the diagnosis I got that day is one that is given to people every day--it could have been worse.

What was concerning was the mole that was removed was the size of a nickel and had grown at a rapid rate--as in, it wasn't there one day, and the next it was.

And the fact that it was in my groin area--well, that was just a little awkward and at the same time a bit of an ironic symbol.

So it was removed in May, and by October I noticed the scar had turned a shade of brown--the mole was growing back. Well, I sort of wanted to avoid it. But it kept pinging in the back of my mind, so I called in December, and as with most dermatology offices, I was going to have to wait eons for an appointment.

I checked in early for my appointment on Wednesday, and really had no nerves about going in. I love my doctor--she has great bedside manner and is very, very sweet--so I was actually looking forward to seeing her.

She wanted to check the mole area first thing, and then moved on to the full body scan. She called out notes to the nurse as she did all this--all of the lingo not meaning a lot to me. So when the nurse left, my doctor sat down.

A sitting doctor always makes me nervous.

She explained that she was concerned about the mole in my groin growing back. She explained that she'd need to remove it again, and go even further into my skin this time. Ouch. She went on to say that she found a dark mole on my scalp, and it's sitting next to a cyst. I also have growth on an old mole on my back, and ten new moles.

My heart rate started to go up at this point--I knew there was more to it. She proceeded to say that its possible that I'll need to have an MRI based on the biopsy results (hoping I get them today or Monday at the latest) and that she strongly recommends we never attempt IVF again. 

In my original consult with her last year, she asked me a lot about my medical history and family history, so she could try and figure out why my moles were growing at the rate they were. Honestly, I didnt even think to mention IVF, because sometimes I don't think to categorize that in my "history"--I always think of surgeries, broken bones, etc. But I'm glad I did--it was like a light bulb went off in her head. She asked about the hormones I took and an estimate on how much. I wanted to laugh and say,
"You don't have enough room on my chart to write it all down!"

Ahhh, IF--you sock me in the stomach in the most unpleasant ways.

She does not claim to be my RE or have an extensive background in infertility and I appreciate that. She's just giving me the facts that are in front of her--and that includes my body and how it seems to be reacting to the large amounts of hormones I took.

The fact that Mook and I hadn't definitely decided if we'd add to our family, it was just hard to hear that I may, yet again, have outside factors determining what the next steps will be.

Ugg, its hard to even talk about. I just wasn't in the mind set to think about it--and all of these IF feelings have just come rushing back--not to mention the fact that I may have to worry about something going on with my moles.

Have any of you all experienced this? Not necessarily with moles, but with another medical situation that has caused you to re-evaluate your plans for a family or adding to it?

So does this all mean the end of our journey?

My heart says no. But all this is helping me come to terms with the fact that going back to our RE won't be happening. It actually just reaffirms the fluttering in my heart when I think about adding to our family by adoption. Not that this is happening anytime in the near future. Not that it will happen at all.

But I'm just not ready to close the door to everything....