This Time Last Year; or, Champagne Wishes and Baby-Filled Dreams

"This time last year" can have such a sad ring in our little corner of the internet: This time last year I thought things would be different. This time last year I thought 2011 would be my year. This time last year I had hope.

I'm remembering what I wrote at the end of 2009. At the end of 2010. How I looked back at years filled with loss and sadness and desperately clawed my way to whatever measure of peace and fulfillment I could. How I tried my damnedest to dwell on lovely vacations and home renovations and every happy moment with Lawyer Guy in order to fight back the darkness that threatened to overwhelm me.

I'm sure I don't need to say how stunningly joyful 2011 was and how gloriously grateful I am that this was, in fact, finally "our year." For me, there is an additional element of reflection, though: the cycle in which Smudgie was created started on New Year's Eve 2010. At every OB appointment, when they asked "When was the date of your last menstrual period," I remembered crying in the Bahamas as I watched the fireworks over the harbor. I remembered holding LG's hand as tight as I could and challenging the future to do it's very best to break me. And I remembered the surge of strength I felt in spite of my tears, knowing that I'd learned how to survive. And once that sort of reminiscence begins, it's hard to stop: I think of my first yoga classes two years ago, how I finished every session crying silently in shavasana and would walk home in the cold and dark praying that all we needed to get pregnant again was a little exercise.

For those of you with new babies or big bellies this year, I hope you spend New Year's Eve drinking in their sweet faces, their beautiful kicks: the most intoxicating champagne I can think of.

And for those still waiting and wishing and despairing, I hope 2012 is the year in which life finally turns sweet again. I'm proof that it can happen more suddenly than you'd believe.

Happy New Year.

Hope and Hunger; or, How I Spent My Winter Vacation

So here we all are. Back together again. New year, same us. Four days in and I'm all ready to sum up 2011 with one word: Hungry.

That's probably because I began an intense 28-day detox/cleanse yesterday, the day we traveled home from the Bahamas, and I have had no wheat, soy, eggs, corn, dairy, alcohol, caffeine, packaged foods, or added sugar in the last 24 hours. I started taking 150 mgs of Clomid a night the day before the cleanse began. So I'm malnourished, hormonal, and travel-fatigued: yup, about ready to rip off my own arm and eat it raw with just a little salt. After I finish typing this post, I'm off to the grocery store to stock up on all the things I'm allowed to eat during these weeks of torture disguised as self-improvement.

But I'm hungry for a lot of things right now, not all of them carbs. I'm hungry for success and accomplishment and satisfaction. I want to feel good about myself again, inside and outside (but today, strangely, mostly inside). I want to feel again like I'm the girl who goes after her dreams and wins. I want to look at my reflection with pride instead of disappointment.

But where was I? Of course, How I Spent My Winter Vacation. In all the lovely ways one would expect: with lots of reading and sitting by the pool or beach and drinking rum cocktails and dressing up for dinner and getting a massage and even hitting the gym multiple times. True to lovely form, my period showed up on New Year's Eve, which part of me wanted to take as an awesome sign that this was the LAST period of 2010 and there won't be any in 2011 and part of me wanted to take as a dreadful sign that the next year will just be one failed cycle after another.

But it wasn't a sign of anything except the fact that I'd ovulated 14 days before and wasn't pregnant, so I stopped thinking about it as soon as I could.

That night, we ate at a great sushi restaurant and then Lawyer Guy played blackjack while I drank and cheered him on (I don't mind watching other people gamble--even with our joint money--but I don't like doing it myself) and then we got more drinks and watched the fireworks over the harbor at midnight.

And I remembered that last year, I felt such relief when the calendar switched over and in the days later, even an incredible joy. Losing our m&m at the end of 2009 was such a deep stain on the year that I couldn't wait to change the clocks and switch the date to something that was bound to be better and happier. I had a whole year to get pregnant again, and I was certain it would happen.

And now I've got no certainty and not always much optimism, and I felt such failure as the yachts all around us started blowing their horns and people were cheering. One whole year later with nothing to show for it and me no closer to my dreams.*

*And of course there's much to show, and of course I'm closer every day, but that didn't matter at the time.

We kissed, and I started to cry a little, and I know LG was worried and a little frustrated that we'd been having a good time and all those inconvenient feelings had to rise to the surface, so I pushed them back down and looked back over the water and thought to myself:

"Okay, 2011. Do your worst."

Which was perhaps the sort of blithe dare I should have learned by now not to make, considering all the evidence I have of fate's awful sense of humor (and all the fairy tales I read as a kid). Maybe, at about 2 minutes and 30 seconds into the new year I doomed myself to twelve months of disaster. But I still feel invigorated when I think the words to myself. I feel strong and competent and resourceful and all the things I want to be because it's abundantly clear that 2009 couldn't break me and 2010 couldn't break me and 2011 won't either, whatever the tricks it has hidden in it's New Year's top hat.

New Year's Non-solutions; or, The New Year of Hope and Achievement

I won't be around to post on New Year's Eve-- since I'm leaving TODAY for the Bahamas (yipeee!)--so I thought I should take this time to update my Non-solutions from last year with new Intended Achievements and Intended Explorations. As a reminder-- these are not things I "resolve" to do or to change about myself, but a mental grocery list of sorts for what I would like to accomplish or enjoy in 2011. Only things that I can actually achieve with some effort are included in this list (i.e., no NYC Marathon for me!).

2011's Intended Achievements:
- Resolve final incomplete grade
- Pass Oral Exam
- Begin (and ideally submit) Dissertation Prospectus
- Create Systematized Budget on mint.com
- Complete Whole Living 28-day Detox
- Create a Weekly Meal Plan (and stick to it)

2011's Intended Explorations:
- Cook one Entirely Vegetarian Meal per week.
- Run a 5k
- Visit Europe and Napa w/ Lawyer Guy
- Join either the Park Slope Food Co-op or a CSA
- Rediscover Love of Knitting

Last winter, I dubbed 2010 the Year of Hope and Achievement and at the time the hope was that I would achieve a baby. That didn't happen (obviously), but I still feel good about the hope that still lives in my heart and the growth and happiness I was able to achieve in often difficult situations.

So why not roll it over to next year? 2011, you are hereby named the New Year of Hope and Achievement. You may not give me everything I hope for, but I certainly won't go down without a fight

Looking Backward; or, Last Year's Wishes

I gave up on the idea of New Year's resolutions a year ago. The fact that nothing I wanted out of 2010 could be gained through resolving to gain it just showed up the emptiness of the concept. I want a baby. Obviously. More than anything. And I will do whatever it takes to get one. And that might not be enough. And I don't have much control over when it will happen, if it ever does.

Sucks. But that's life.

Instead of resolutions, I made a series of posts about my wishes and my plans for the new year. And I figured I'd look back now--just a few weeks away from flipping to another new calendar--to see how things panned out.

Let me be blunt. My wishes didn't come true. I did okay with some of the less specific ones (like wishing that I'd appreciate my body for the things it can do rather than what it can't), but I just threw those in so I wouldn't seem totally grabby and But-I-want-it-NOW-y anyway. The big stuff, the real wishes, those didn't come true.

(Well, I guess technically I did get pregnant this year, too, which was Wish #1, but considering I never even got to feel excited while looking at the pee stick, I'm calling that one a draw).

I'm not even going to bother with writing out a new list of wishes this year. Just look up the old ones and plug in "2011" for "2010" because they're all the same. Oh, but you can change the first wish to "Get pregnant with a healthy baby that doesn't die or have serious genetic abnormalities."

When I look back over my plans for the year, though, the story is different. I did pretty well! I broke the plans into two different categories: Intended Achievements and Intended Explorations. I purposefully set pretty modest goals for each category (not "Lose 20 pounds and Run a Marathon," for example). And I managed to accomplish almost everything I set out to do.

I completed all of the scholastic tasks I set for myself, with the exception of taking my oral exam. But I have a date set for that in May, so I'm feeling pretty good about my progress.

And I accomplished all of my Intended Explorations! I started a regular yoga practice--I may not be an expert yet, but I've grown stronger and more flexible and I've stuck to a work-out program for almost a year. I did go to Scandinavia with Lawyer Guy, and we made an effort to check out the Brooklyn culinary scene. Not bad!

Re-reading my hopes for the year and seeing that I was able to fulfill so much of what I set for myself is a nice little boost in a depressing season. My wishes didn't come true, but that doesn't mean I was unsuccessful in everything in my life. I'm going to make a similar list for 2011 in an upcoming post with similarly modest goals. I may not feel the incredible surge of pride that I would if I resolved to swim the English Channel or finish my dissertation by next year and then succeeded. But when what I want most feels so out of reach, it's nice to have a few goals I know I can accomplish.

Consolations; or, Excitations (But Not Good Vibrations)

Three things have happened in the last few days to give me more optimism about my situation.

1) First (and most excitingly) I asked my favorite professor to be my Oral Exam committee chair, and she agreed!

(For those unfamiliar with the doctoral process, Orals are the qualifying exam that mark the point between coursework (classes) and the dissertation. At my university, they consist of three reading lists of 30-40 texts a piece (so roughly 100 works total) that you choose in conjunction with your three examiners (the professors who are your advisers, who administer your exam, and who will probably read your dissertation). You base these lists around your research interests, read and draw connections between them for several months, and then at the end there's a two-hour Oral Exam, wherein your examiners ask you questions about (potentially) any of the books you were responsible for reading.)

I am legitimately stoked to start reading and prepping for my Orals. Months to devote to delving deeply into Romantic and early-Victorian narrative poetry and novels just sounds like an awesome way to pass the time. My adviser is both brilliant and kind, and I am thrilled to be working with her on Jane Austen, Lord Byron, Walter Scott, and a bunch of other late-18th/early-19th century writers.

I had sort of seized on early February as my potential Orals date, but my adviser thought I could (and should) finish earlier. So now my mental endpoint is November. As in 9 months from now. As in, if I'm not pregnant right now. Which is great! Because if/when I get AF this month I can console myself with the fact that I don't have to delay my exam.

2) The second thing that happened is a result of my Lenten resolution to do nice things for pregnant people. I spoke with my friend E who (some of you may remember) gave birth the day after we found out we'd lost the m&m. E and I had a long chat, we talked about her baby boy, her difficulty breast-feeding because of thrush, and what it's like being a mom.

E also mentioned that her husband (a lawyer) is losing his job and has to find another one. They're looking everywhere--NYC, Colorado, even the Middle East. He was laid off just two years ago after the economy tanked, so this is not something they wanted to go through again, especially not with a new baby. E now most likely has to go back to work very soon, rather than getting the year at home with the baby that she wanted.

And instead of thinking yeah, but at least you have a baby (which in certain moods I might have), I thought I'm really glad I'm not in that situation. I was reminded of the fact that we've all got struggles that try us in different ways. And I know that I can handle mine.

3) The final thing that happened is so insane I hesitate to even mention it. So here goes: yesterday, at 4 dpo, I became convinced that I'm pregnant. I know. Madness. A little cramping does not a pregnancy indicate. I think I've forgotten what a regular 2ww feels like, since I haven't had one in almost six months. And then I woke up a little early this morning to pee. I don't even need a pee stick to make this diagnosis, right?

This is complete insanity that's going to bite me in the ass so hard it'll leave teeth marks. So it's a good thing I've got reason #1 to keep my dreams in check.

Back at One; or, Be Gentle, It's All So New to Me

My 1 year anniversary is coming up in March. Not my wedding anniversary (we're going on 3 years) or a grad school anniversary (this is my 4th year) or an apartment anniversary (we've been in Park Slope almost 2). Nope, I'm gearing up for my 1 year anniversary of trying to conceive a child.

First year TTC anniversaries are momentous things. They usually mean a full complement of blood work and semen analysis and a visit to the friendly neighborhood RE. But mine won't. Mine will most likely mean another pee stick in the fertility monitor, another temp charted on my fertility software, another night of hoping this one works and this one sticks. And another blog post (that one I can guarantee).

Because I won't have been trying to have a baby for 12 months. I won't be on my 9th cycle of fucking with purpose. I'll be on my second month, second cycle. A total newbie!

Miscarriages restart the clock. After all, the process worked (well, it didn't really if the goal was a child in my arms rather than a vial full of "products of human conception" in a lab somewhere, but you know what I mean). Pregnancy #1 was achieved. #2 is a different beast.

Most of the time, this feels like a good thing. I'm glad to let go of the accumulated disappointment and despair of March-December 2009. I'm glad to be starting over, a nice low number on the calendar and plenty of reason for optismism. It'll take 3 months, right? Sure, why not. It does for other people.

Other times I think--what if? What if it takes a full year? What if it takes 9 months and then I lose that one, too? And suddenly, I'm seeing second anniversaries, third anniversaries. Suddenly, I'm seeing how couples wind up waiting two or more years before trying any treatments, something I swore once upon a time I would never do.

But most of the time I don't think about the what ifs. And it's not just because they'll fuck with your head.

I'm new to this whole thing, remember? I'm counting on beginner's luck.

6:30 a.m.; or, Spring 2010

Break is officially over. I leave in a half hour or so to teach my first class of the new semester, and tomorrow I take my first class.

There's so much I didn't accomplish over the break. There's so much I let fall by the wayside last semester. So even though I don't feel 100% (do I ever?), even though I still have too many days when I want to hide in bed with the covers blocking out the sun, I've got to get moving and get productive.

On the positive side, I tell myself there's no way Spring 2010 can suck as hard as Fall 2009 did. At least I'm only teaching one course now, instead of two.

Happy Thursday, everyone.

My Little Mr New Years; or, Ovulation Goes to Your Head

I want that New Year's baby. You know the one--chubby and dimpled with his ridiculous top hat and 2010 sash? Yeah, that one. He's mine. I want to hold him in my arms in late September and think about the winter snow that swirled the night he was conceived.

We're full throttle with the baby making right now. I didn't ovulate after all over Christmas (when I had my WTF-egg-whites freak out), which is good because that means that this is a normal cycle and my body is doing its job: Day 20, egg whites, four High Fertility readings on the CBEFM, and a girly hard on for my husband like you wouldn't believe.

I'm still waiting for that Peak reading, but I've had zero midcycle spotting-- for the first time in two years. We're talking mid-cycle "spotting" that required a full pad, could last as long as 10 days, and sometimes bled through to my clothes. And now--zero!

I'm unable to shake my hopeful assumption that this is the month. That this time it will work out. That this is our baby.

Maybe I don't want to shake it. Maybe after 10 months of near constant anxiety, I'm ready to just be happy and hopeful. Somehow losing my m&m has me convinced more than ever that this is going to work out for us, and sooner rather than later.

So call me a dumb blonde, but I'm going to ride this optimism thing until it pans out for me.

Happy New Year

"Visualize a being you are responsible for," she said.

I thought of my m&m--a little pink shrimp curled around its own tail with big black spots for eyes, safe in a gelatin sac.

"Think of something you can do for this being. Some way you can improve your care of it."

Hope, I thought. I can have hope.

I breathed in (baby) and breathed out (hope). I'm not very flexible and I'm not very strong, so sometimes I thought more about my body, more about the pain of the stretch or the stiffness of the joints, than about my breath. But whenever I remembered, I breathed in (baby) and breathed out (hope).

Lying on my back in the dark, eyes closed, the room still, the m&m floated through my interior vision, a crystal champagne bubble on a field of black.

"And now, let that image go."

The sac drifted away, melted into darkness. I felt my cheeks wet, but I didn't try to keep it with me, to hold it back from where it needed to go.

Goodbye.

Hello.

Of Mice and Men; or, My Best Laid Plans

Okay, I lied (just a little) in my previous post. I do have some--let's call them "intentions" for 2010 beyond the babymaking that lies in the realm of the wished and longed for. I still refuse to call these "resolutions," because that term implies to me a desire to radically unmake or alter or shift or switch the current course of one's life, and that's not what I'm planning to do. I don't need to lose 50 pounds or change my career or move to a new state. I just need to advance a little farther along the path I've already set for myself.

So that being said, here are two categories: Intended Achievements and Intended Explorations.

Intended Achievements in 2010

1. Finish my course work for my PhD, including all incomplete papers.
2. Put together my Oral Exam committee.
3. Draw up my Exam lists and begin reading.
4. Take my Exam (possibly deferred depending on certain life changes that may necessitate taking a semester off next year. No more needs be said).
5. Help my husband more with housework.

Intended Explorations in 2010
1. Develop a yoga practice.
2. Travel to Scandanavia
3. Visit at least one new restaurant in Brooklyn each month.

So there we have it. What I wish and what I intend, what I'll accomplish and what I'll explore. Modest but important goals that I anticipate successfully completing.

Not a bad way to start the Awesome Year of Hope and Achievement, no?

When You Wish; or, The Anti-Resolutions

I'm not making New Years resolutions. What's the point? I can't "resolve" to get pregnant. I can't "resolve" to carry a healthy baby to term. So much of what I hope and long for is outside of my control. I get that. I'm even starting to be (just a little) okay with that.

So these aren't resolutions. There are wishes.

1. I wish that I will get pregnant in 2010.

2. I wish that my body will nurture and protect a healthy baby.

3. I wish that I will accept the timing of this pregnancy--however long it may take to get there--with grace and humor.

4. I wish that I will remember my life--the every day of school and teaching, of loving my husband and talking to my friends--is just as important as the dreams I have for my future.

5. I wish that I will accept my body for what it can do and what it can't do; that I will love it even when it takes 30 days to ovulate or switches up my luteal period, or gives me BFN after BFN, because its the only body I have, it's a gift from God, and it didn't fail me (or I it).

6. I wish for 28-day cycles with ovulation on day 14. Like clockwork.

Since I'm wishing for things, and all.

Edited to add: Merry New Years Wishes to all!

Ring Out the Old; or, 2009: The Year of Not So Bad

I was planning to post 2009: the Year of Suck today. But I'm sitting on my couch, watching the snow blanket the city, enjoying the quietness and peace of the weather and the fire in our fireplace. Lawyer Guy is home from a week-long business trip, we had a delicious brunch, we're listening to the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack and we're planning to spend the afternoon baking cookies. Life just feels too good to dwell on the Suck.

So I bring you 2009: the Year of Not So Bad, my intended follow-up, instead.

- I presented my first paper at my first professional conference and I didn't make a total fool of myself.

- I traveled with my husband to Rome and London.

- My sister just below me in age (I have three younger sisters) moved to NYC after ten years in Montreal, China, and San Francisco.

- That same sister got engaged to a really wonderful guy who makes her very happy.

- My husband's job remained secure and he received a raise during a tough economic time.

- I realized I enjoy teaching, despite its challenges.

- I've had a really good hair year. Seriously, my colorist's done a great job, it's growing out nicely, and it's very soft and shiny.

So that's been the good. And I'm honestly appreciative for all of it (especially the hair part--it's taken me years of restorative treatments to get to this point. And I'm only slightly kidding about this).

I'll still post on The Year of Suck, probably when I'm feeling pissy and cranky and fed up with life. That day is not today.

Coming up: 2009: The Year of Suck and Plans for the Awesome Year of Hope and Achievement

Ring Out the Old; or, Ring in the New

As the heavy haze of anguish started to lessen a little in the days after learning we'd lost the m&m, I turned to my favorite activity: mathematical calculations. Now, don't get me wrong, I am no mathlete. I didn't even make it past pre-Calc in high school (my talents lie in more literary directions). But TTC for--jeez, is it 10 months now?--has turned me into something of a human abacus, if everything you need calculated comes in increments of 9.

So, I started adding: one week + four-to-eight weeks + 18-to-24 days = no chance of getting pregnant again this year. Awesome. I felt sad, defeated, useless and empty. No 2009 pregnancy left for me. No babies in 2009.

Well, fuck 2009. What did it ever do for me, anyway?

So in honor of 2010--which I have determined will be the Awesome Year of Hope and Achievement--I'm doing a series of blog posts about New Years. I'm looking forward to that day in a way that has nothing to do with balls dropping, corks popping, or kisses at midnight (though I will enjoy a few of those, I'm sure). I'm ready to clean out the muck of sadness, anxiety, and inadequacy that bedeviled me all year. I'm ready to make things new.

Stay tuned for: 2009: The Year of Suck