Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

Had my parents lived and not divorced, they would have been married 39 years today.

Don't let anyone fool you. The divorce of your parents at any age is difficult. I was 29 when my parents got divorced and it was rough on all of us.

Truthfully, I don't know why they stayed married as long as they did. They got married September 20, 1968 in the living room of my Uncle Larry and Aunt Bunny. They separated June 1998 after my grandmother passed away and divorced December 1999.

On their first anniversary, my father asked my mother what she wanted as an anniversary present to which my mom responded "A divorce". A scant month later, I was on the way and my mom's request wasn't granted.

The first decade of their marriage was passionate. They fought a lot and they loved a lot. I still remember seeing my dad kissing my mom. The second decade, it's like the love was gone. They fought constantly and viciously. The threat of divorce was ever present. However, in the last decade, they mellowed and were more like roommates than a married couple.

I think that deep down, they did love each other. When my dad died in 2002, my mom was grieved. She wanted to go to the service both to support me and to honor my father. But she felt, rightly so, that my dad's family would be nasty to her and she really didn't want to cause a scene.

A few days before she died, mom was in the middle of one the last periods when she was awake and sort of making sense. The cancer had reached her brain and most of the time, she was pretty addled. She was talking to me and Moo when suddenly she said "Your dad went to the store and he's been gone a really long time. I wonder when he'll be back?" My dad had been dead for almost 2 years at this point and I did what any person would do. I told her he was ok and that he had run into someone he knew and was talking - something that my dad did on a regular basis. She said, "Well go tell him to hurry on up home." I told her I'd go tell him and I left the hospice for the evening. I prayed as I went home that my dad was watching out for her.

Happy anniversary momma and daddy... I miss you both so much.

Teleportation

(warning: Poop will be discussed in this entry. If you are quesy or unable to read about other's pooping habits, please turn back now)

I started taking Metformin AKA Glucophage this morning. Per my previous post, my OB/GYN thinks that most of my issues are from PCOS and PCOS as we've learned is the probable reason for my weird periods, lack of ovulation and long luxurious beard.

Metformin is a drug that you do not want to start suddenly. Per WebMD - the greatest medical website for hypochondriacs like me - side effects may include:
"Nausea, stomach upset, diarrhea, or a metallic taste in the mouth may occur at first as your body adjusts to the medication."


So, right now, I'm nauseous, have pooped 3 times this morning and have a weird metallic taste in my mouth - kinda like I've been sucking on aluminum foil all morning.

I think i'm nauseous mostly because of the metallic taste. It's nasty and even a Coke - my beloved drug of choice - isn't covering up the taste very well.

As for the poop, it would seem that my body is teleporting poop from 3 other people. The total poop output is WAY more than the food input. And this isn't the type of diarhea that you think you can just poop a couple times and then be done with it. This is the type of poop that you hold on and brace for impact. The type of poop that you wonder what will pass from your nether regions.

Funny as Hell

Funny as hell


Knowing is half the battle...

I got a call from my OB/GYN office today. It was the nurse for my gyno. They got my blood work results from the 21 day progesterone tests. It appears that I am not ovulating.

The first step in all this is to start Metformin - otherwise known as Glucophage. It's a drug primarily for Diabetes treatment, but there's been a good bit of success in using it with PCOS patients (I wanted to say "victims").

I took Metformin for about 3 days a couple of years ago when my internist suggested it. I didn't take it with food and I also began taking it 3 a day. the resultant upset stomach made me stop it. I've since found that you should take it with food and should ramp up - taking 1 pill a day, then 2 then finally 3 instead of abruptly just taking all of it!

They're gonna do this for about 3 months and then we'll add Clomid for 2-3 months. If that doesn't work, they'll refer me to a reproductive endocrinologist. I already know who they'll refer me to, but I know that I want to go to another guy instead.

They've also advised me that the loss of even 20 pounds would drastically help my chance of fertility. Since I've been losing weight on my own now for a few weeks, I'll begin ramping up my work.

At first, I felt depressed. It was confirmation that I was a failure. But then, I realized that this is a chance to make a real change, both in my health and in my chances for a healthy pregancy.

The Bitch is Back!

I started my period today - yes, Aunt Flow is visiting us for the holidays!

In light that Moo and I are trying to start a family, this is not how I wanted to start the Labor Day holiday.

Any woman who says that she feels more like a woman because she menstruates is insane. You heard me.

Bleeding out of my lady bits doesn't make me feel womanly. It's sticky, weird and gross. There's nothing even remotely dignified about it - for 3-5 days, you wear a diaper or a bit of fluff stuffed up your twat to take care of things. Doesn't sound like too much fun does it?

Additionally, there's the fun of PMS, cramping, diarrhea, nausea, bloating, and bitchiness.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy being a girl. But I could do without the bleeding. Right now, the bleeding is a sign of failure. Most other months, it's just a nuisance.


I doubt that menopause will depress me. Some women feel less womanly after menopause. To me, it would be a relief to have that portion of my life over.

But right now, I'll keep on writing down the day I start and I'll keep on timing things cause I want a bambino.

Pleasure and Pain

This is Connor. He was born on Friday, August 24, 2007 to Moo's first cousin. Moo and this cousin are only a few days apart in age and looked a lot alike as children.

Connor's parents had some trouble conceiving. His Mom had two miscarriages before this pregnancy due to problems with Rh factor. They even used the same lubricant that we're using now (Preseed - it doesn't kill sperm like Astroglide and KY Jelly can).

Seeing little Connor was amazing. We got him a little black onesie that had a white skull and cross bones on it. Very goth and cool :)

But seeing him. Holding him. Seeing my husband hold this little creature that looks so much like Moo as an infant was painful beyond words.

All I could think as I held this little boy was how much I wished that this were my child with my husband's nose and dark hair.


I wish that I could say with 100% certainty that one day this website will hold photos of my husband holding our son. I wish that I could say that we'll get pregnant soon and all this will be a funny tale to tell our kids. But I just don't know.

I want this to be a picture of me holding my son. Hopefully, it will be soon.


Why this blog is called what it is...

Since 2002, I've lost both of my parents, been disowned by my father's family, disowned my father's family. Bought a house. Sold a house. Lost 1 job, quit 2 others and feel like quitting the one I'm in now. Additionally, Moo has lost 2 jobs and then worked as a contractor before becoming a full time employee at his current job. Meanwhile, you know what the world's been like since 2002. So, to say that my life has been stressful is an understatement.

After my mom passed away from a brief but terrible stint with lung cancer in 2004, I had what I refer to as a "mini nervous breakdown". I was put on two separate anti-depressants - Effexor and Wellbutrin. I was never suicidal or homicidal. It was just really hard for me to see that things could ever get better again. which is strange, because I tend to be a "the cup's half full" kind of person. I just had no idea who I was any more. I wasn't someone's daughter or granddaughter anymore and I had been those things so intently and so completely that it all just turned into one big wreck.

Also, I was pissed. Absolutely pissed off that my parents were off in heaven having a great time and I was here mopping up. I was stuck here doing all the hard crap and they weren't here to help me. For the first time in my life, I felt REALLY ALONE.

I went into therapy for about a year. This is one of the better things I've done. My therapist was a lovely lady, but I found myself not wanting to disappoint her. I found myself distancing myself from her and not wanting to get too attached to her. Finally, I just stopped going. I didn't feel better when I went. I could deal with things better and going to therapy just stirred things up that weren't bothering me anymore.

Things did get better. I found myself not wanting to sleep all the time and I've lost some weight which makes me feel better.

I think everyone needs a nervous breakdown. They are highly underrated ways of making you evaluate your life and who you are. I am no longer just a daughter. I'm a wife and perhaps one day, a mother. I'm a good friend. I'm a good person. I am a lover.

Additionally, I feel closer to God now. I've had some deep personal experiences with Him now and I've felt his presence in my life at some of the most difficult times in my life.

Redneck Wedding



A few years ago, I went to a redneck wedding. Let metell you a little bit more about this beautiful day...


It was held at the beautiful American Legion hall in lovely Mableton, GA. It was on a Saturday afternoon and most of the guests stayed after thereception to pay bingo. This was the bride's first wedding so she was wearing white. I still wonderhow she got a form-fitting "mermaid" style dress that fit her properly since she was only 8 months pregnant at the time. Her maid of honor was her oldest daughter - who also happened to be the groom's oldest daughter. The maid of honor and bridesmaids all wore lovely matching HOT! PINK! LAME! hoochie mama dresses with LOTS of cleavage and were VERY short. My mom swore that one of them flashed her naughty bits as she flounced down the aisle.


The groom and his grooms men all wore white tuxes with HOT PINK ties and cummerbunds. They also complimented their attire with the ball cap of their choice. They also partook of a large amount of "chaw" or chewing tobacco during the ceremony and each held his own red SOLO cup of spit during the ceremony. The minister of this holy ceremony wore a GOLD! LAME! robe and looked like an Elvis impersonator. I found out later that he does that on the side. However, on this day he was there in his official capacity.


The bride came down the aisle on her father's arm. Most of us were distracted by her belly which gyrated furiously as she walked down the aisle. Obviously the unborn child decided that since he would be the first of his parent's children to be born after wedlock that he would celebrate by turning somersaults in his mama's tummy.

Harry FARKING Potter ... SOB!!!

Hopefully by now, everyone's read the last HP book. If not...


SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...SPOILER ALERT ...


I have to say that I've enjoyed the HP series. I started reading them at about book three (Prisoner of Azkaban). I originally read it out of spite. I thought all the adults getting all wiggy over a kid's book was ridiculous. And then I read book one (Sorcerer's Stone - Philospher's Stone for the Brits), and I got all wiggy over a kid's book. I quickly ran thru books 2 and 3 and was ready when book 4 made it's debut with all the other folks at the bookstore.

The seventh book takes us back to Privet Drive and a more mature infinitely more jaded Harry. The Durseley's are as bad as ever, but Dudley definitely shocks you with his separation anxiety as well as his willingness to let the Wizarding world protect him. It's as though he's becoming a bit more openminded.

The loss of Moody wasn't altogether unexpected. It seemed apparant to me early on that most of the "Old Guard" must be removed to enable Harry to meet Voldemort. Someone is almost always there to help rescue Harry in every other book. I felt that Harry had to face this final challenge on his own.

The death of Hedwig was devastating to me. I love animals and I bawled for a solid 30 minutes after I read this. I put the book down and told my DH that this was "a terrible book and I don't want to read any more of it!" after reading about Hedwig. However, I decided to move on after that.

I somehow knew that Fleur and Bill's wedding wouldn't go unnoticed by the Deatheaters - this wasn't all that shocking.

What was shocking was the boring, dragging, everlasting, camping trip that came after. Good grief, I feel like JK Rowling could have stripped out at least 100 pages of this drivel. What a boring section.

I won't tell you how the book ends in the event you aren't finished. I'm fairly satisfied however with the ending. Everything wraps up well enough that I don't have too many lingering questions.

What if?

What would happen if we couldn't have children?

I've thought about this - seems like people ask me what other alternatives we'll consider if we can't - so it's not a totally new query for me.

First and foremost, I'm unwilling to do anything drastic to get pregnant. By drastic, I mean that I'm not willing to do In Vitro fertilization. My reasons are:

1. It's too damn expensive and there's not a great chance that it would work. There's never a guarantee that if you get pregnant that you'll carry the pregancy to term. But with IVF, the best that you can hope for is a 30% CHANCE of even getting pregnant. Additionally, it's 10K to 15K for EVERY attempt.

2. Sometimes I think that if God meant us to have kids, that he'd make it easier. And while I'm always overjoyed at the success of others with IVF, I feel like we will accept this decision of the cosmos if that's what it is.

I kid my husband that if we can't have kids on our own that I'll go to Guatemala and adopt a kid (or two!) and can't he just visualize the Christmas card from John, Amanda and the kids Pedro and little Guadelupe?

The truth is that we'll be happy whether we are given children or not.

I have been blessed beyond all others with my marriage. My parents didn't have an inkling what it meant to be married happily. They never were. But I am.

John and I are suited to each other exactly. He says that there's no one else like me and that he's happy that I am with him! I think that he's perfect in every way and I long to be a better person and better wife so that I'll be worthy of him and his love.

Ours is a marriage that I think will be complimented by children.