Happiness Is; or, More Year In Review

Yesterday, Pissy gave me my first Peak reading of this natural cycle. (Day 18! Not bad for me unmedicated!) And last night, Lawyer Guy and I did what baby-making people do on Peak days. And two weeks from today, I think we all know what's going to happen:

I'm going to get my period on a beach in the Bahamas.

But at least I'll be on a beach. That will make me happy. And at least I'll have my bottle of Clomid close at hand and can start popping pills three days later with an actual sense of hope about my January cycle. That makes me happy, too.

As I think back over the past year, so much of it did make me happy. And not just the usual "Husband, Dog, Family" kind of happiness--some really great things happened in 2010! And whaddayaknow, here's a list of them:

- We got built-in book shelves and our pantry closet redone. Both of those things make me *so* happy. I open the closet and just stare at it sometimes or sit on the couch and look at the shelves. I love feeling like we are turning this apartment into a real home (and I love storage space in a way that only long-term New Yorkers can understand).

- I had the best birthday ever and the best birthday party ever! Turning 30 was kind of great-- good food, great party, lots of people who love me surrounding me, and the feeling that I am entering a new phase in my life.

- Lawyer Guy got a promotion at his firm. He had been feeling frustrated about aspects of his job the last few years, and this was such a reward. It helped restore his pride and sense of accomplishment at a time when he really needed to feel good about himself.

- I didn't fail out of school! I was actually productive and got some academic shit done! I have not yet permanently destroyed the scholastic dreams of any of my students!

- Two of my sisters moved to NYC, and I now get to spend so much more time with them. It's such a blessing to have them close by after years of being dispersed across the country.

- I spent lots and lots of time at the Metropolitan Opera, my favorite place in the city. Everything about being there makes me happy.

- We started working with a fantastic RE at a great clinic, and she helps me stay hopeful and optimistic by being confident in our future success and so damn competent.

- I got to go on a bunch of cool trips to cool places with my wonderful husband (our cruise; our Scandinavia trip, weddings in different parts of the country). I love traveling with him so much--we get to be a little more adventurous and spontaneous than in our normal lives. (We've also got some great trips in the works for this upcoming year that I'll spill about in a future post).

- I got to know some incredible women through the ALI community, to laugh with them and cry with them and know that we're all together when we succeed and when we fail.

- Okay, yes, and the husband and dog made me very happy, too.

There were also a lot of moments of quiet happiness this year not related to any specific events. Just times of walking outside and feeling at peace and feeling grateful for that peace because the memories of overwhelming grief were fresh. I think I'm coping better with all of this than I ever have before (or thought I could). And that makes me happy, too.

And Now For Something Completely Different; or, Home Improvement

I've been talking a lot about the work we've been having done in my apartment the last two weeks, and I thought it would be nice to show you some of what's been going on (and it's always fun to give a little peek into my secret life). It is taking much longer than I thought it would, but I believe that's a hazard of this kind of project so I'm trying not to get upset over it. As long as things are mostly taken care of before we leave for Scandinavia a week from today, I'll be fine.

First, we had a built-in bookshelves/media center constructed:


I really love the way this turned out! Being a literature student, my book collection is out of control and constantly growing, so we really needed some additional book storage space. Having this built allowed us to remove one tall bookshelf from our living room and to get rid of a crappy dvd stand Lawyer Guy bought at Cost.co or something years ago. This is so much more streamlined and adult! I love the staining of the maple and the wavy glass door (so we can use the remote without opening anything). The glare to the left is the morning light coming in our bay window, and to the right you can see our teeny-little fireplace. Oh, and the painting hung over the mantel is a wedding gift from some friends of my parents. It's a watercolor of the chapel at my high school where Lawyer Guy and I were married.

Our second project is a complete overhaul of our storage/utility closet. We have a large and rather deep closet near our bedroom that was being completely wasted. There were two little metal shelves in the back, and that was it. We piled crap on the floor willy-nilly. It was terribly unsightly and also impossible to locate anything we needed.

This is how the closet looks as of this morning:


Very much a work in progress, as you can tell. We had a second storage compartment cut into the space above the closet doors (the closet extended all the way up past the doors to the ceiling, but that was basically unusable space before). The drywall installer has been impossible-- not showing up when he's supposed to and taking far longer to do everything than he implied he would--so getting that hole cut has been the primary time suck of the last week. And his tools are what you see sitting at on the floor in there (all the crap that usually resides there is currently hanging out in the second bedroom).

After he's done sanding and painting (which, pray to God, will be Monday), our woodworkers will install shelves in a U-shape to make a pantry and storage space and doors on the cubby above. We'll have all our random crap so much better organized and will also be shifting non-perishables from the kitchen cabinets, freeing up storage space there as well.

So there you have it! A little glimpse at my tiny, space-free apartment and a run-down on the activities that have kept me confined to my home for the last week. I will be so excited when all these projects are over.

(I've also got to mention--for completeness's sake--that I finally got my peak reading this morning. So my doctor was right and that follie was ready to blow. LG and I are off to Shelter Island to stay at some friends' rental place for the weekend. I'm hoping we get a bedroom with a lock on the door!)

Don't Cry Over Spilt Wine; or, Choose Your Own Ending

Last cycle (cycle 4 post-miscarriage, for those counting), I made a decision. I decided I was taking a break. I was packing up Pissy and putting away the basal body thermometer and reclaiming my life and trying that hot new "just relax" technique that gets the kids all excited these days.

And then I cracked and went back to peeing on things. As you do.

This cycle, I made no pronouncements. I made no decisions. I made no declarations. Nope. I just forgot to refill my box of Pissy's peestrips. And lost my BBT at a hotel.

Look's like the break's on me.

* * *
I truly thought I was going to be fine on the m&m's due date last weekend. By this point, I understand that my first pregnancy was not meant to be, that something else lies in my future, that I've got to look forward rather than back. I greet every month with possibly misguided optimism, even if I don't always convey that here. And I don't even think to myself, "I wish I hadn't lost the baby" anymore, because I don't know who I would be right now if I hadn't lost the baby. Acceptance, right?

On Friday, Lawyer Guy and I had date night at a steakhouse before the welcome cocktail party back at the hotel. We had a great time and drank some wine and laughed together and I looked very pretty and all was well. Then we made our way to the hotel and met my friend the bride's family and her wedding party, and since I'd had pinot noir with the steak at dinner, I broke my 9-year streak of never ordering red wine at a party and got a glass of cabernet.

Fifteen minutes and one wildly gesticulating bridesmaid later, said glass of cabernet was empty and said cabernet was all over my hair, arm, chest, shoes, and the rather expensive, beaded, embroidery-embellished silk tunic I bought from a little one-of-a-kind shop on my trip to London last summer.

The bridesmaid felt terrible and frantically tried to find a 24-hour dry cleaner (none in Tampa, it appears), to dab the giant, blossoming stains with club soda, and to convince me it would come out when it was washed. But I knew the outfit was ruined (as indeed, it is) and was trying to hold it together until I could be alone. I didn't want her to feel worse about her accident than she already did.

After she left and I changed for bed, I pretty quickly began sobbing about my tunic, much to LG's dismay, and then somehow started keening "I miss the baby" over and over. The two things of course, as LG rightly pointed out, having nothing to do with one another. But in my mind, the fact that I was coated in cabernet rather than blood on the eve of my baby's due date had some deep three-in-the-morning kind of significance.

* * *
The break isn't quite as drastic as I made it out to be before. I had a few of Pissy's sticks left and was using one sporadically every few days, contrary to her methodical likings, as I waited for the new box to arrive. I took my temperature three or so times before losing the thermometer in Florida. And I added a new element to my already burgeoning pre-ovulatory routine: vitex (aka chasteberry root) in an herbal supplement, said to help regulate ovulation.

On Saturday, the due date, I went to the wedding. I wore my 30th-birthday purple petal dress. I danced to Madonna and Michael Jackson with my friends and Cole Porter and James Taylor with Lawyer Guy. I drank just enough and not too much. No one spilled anything on me. Everything that night was easy and happy and--yes--relaxed.

And then the next morning, with my very last peestick, Pissy gave me a Peak. On CD 16. About a week earlier than I expected.

* * *
This might turn out to be the ever-irritating story of The Accidental Break Cycle, Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Got My BFP. This might turn out to be the amazing story of a Very Sad Day and Its Very Happy Ending. This might turn out to be your run-of-the-mill story of The Girl Who Spilled Wine on Her Tunic, Cried About It, Went To a Wedding, Woke Up the Next Morning, and Got Her Period Two Weeks Later.

As always, anxiously awaiting that last page.

Temporary Sanity; or, Weekend Update

What a nice weekend! Lawyer Guy and I had dinner at the "secret" back courtyard restaurant a few doors down from our house on Friday night. On Saturday I went to a great yoga class and then had dinner in Manhattan with LG followed by a screening of His Girl Friday at Film Forum. Yesterday I went to a fantastic new church--progressive, friendly, with great sermons and beautiful music--and then read 500 pages of a rather ridiculous yet entertaining mid-Victorian novel and cooked dinner for LG, who was at the office preparing for a hearing. I got a little too ambitious and made pate brisee, with the intention of whipping up an apple and pear tart, but ran out of time for baking it. So the dough is in the freezer and I'll make the tart sometime this week.

I also... (drumroll please)... OVULATED!

Because I'm TMI-ey like that (and because I know all you pervs totally want me to overshare with you), I must point out that LG and I had sex every day last week. No, hold your applause, it's appreciated but unneeded. And of course I did have my mandatory freakout that we were having too much sex, as our BFP cycle we had sex only once during my fertile period. But then I reminded myself that if LG and I are having fun, that's the most important thing and I really shouldn't look a gift...um...horse in the mouth.

So now here I am, starting the last week of my twenties. Starting another two week wait. I feel really good. Today I doubt that I'm pregnant, but I feel good. I've got my birthday weekend to look forward to (and my meetup with SuchAGoodEgg here in NYC!). Things feel okay right now.

I can pretty much guarantee that after my 30th on Sunday I'll fall into the 1ww vortex of hope and despair. And AF's due to show on Mother's Day, which should be a nice red cherry on the top of that Sunday.

But for now, like I said, things are okay.

(And coming to a blog near you soon: potential birthday sparkle dress pictures!!)

Show Tunes in the Shower; or, Tell the People, Mr. Buble

You guys would not recognize me right now. I am in the high-flying manic phase of whatever DSM-IV psychosis I've been experiencing for the last four months.

I was singing "Oh What a Beautiful Mornin'" at the top of my lungs during my drive to teach this morning. Shit-eating grin every time I looked out the window. Wiggling in my seat during office hours. And then Michael Buble's "Haven't Met You Yet" came on the radio on the drive home, and I realized that song is all about surviving miscarriage and IF and getting your forever baby and whatever Michael, it totally is okay? And you might not have realized this, but nearly 30-year-old wannabe-baby-mamas driving Volvos on the BQE are totally the intended audience for this song. And for the singing and car-dancing inspired thereby.

And I'm sure part of the reason for my case of the jollies is blue skies and sunshine and mourning doves building their nests on my window sills (until Lawyer Guy notices them and whips out the broom). But the other part is this:

Peak! On CD 19! Ovaries, I love you! Body, you're forgiven! Husband, you don't realize it yet, but your bones will be jumped tonight! Baby, I can't wait to meet you in December!

In the back of my mind, I'm adding just a little to the mental file of "Why It Would Be Less Than Ideal to Get Pregnant This Month" (otherwise known as, "How To Comfort A Menstruating Woman")

But screw all that, for now. I'm going to let Mr Buble sing us out.

Something Like Success; or, It Starts

Isn't this a pretty sight:

Today's a "this isn't going to work" day. Today's a "things can't be that easy" day. Today's a "don't get your hopes up" day.

But I ovulated, so that's a start.

Making Connections; or, That Was Unexpected

It's no secret (and probably no surprise) that I've been feeling rather lonely the last four or five months. My friends who want kids right now are pregnant. My non-pregnant friends don't want to be yet. My husband feels upset when I'm upset, which forces me to temper my disappointment and anguish at each negative test or new cycle. And he doesn't really understand my pain--a baby is something he's willing to wait for, not something he needs with every atom in his body.

So I've been lonely.

And then a close and special friend of mine (one of the married but not ready for kids yet types) called me up. I had previously confided a little in her about my husband and my thus-far thwarted efforts to conceive. And she called to let me know that J, a mutual friend of ours, had recently spilled that she too was having a bit more trouble than she expected getting knocked up.

I've known J a while and like her a lot, but we've never been especially close. But I contacted her anyway and we met up last night for a bottle of wine, some chips and salsa, and a long evening of soul-baring and cervical mucus-centric discussion. What a relief it was to share this with her.

She's on her 6th cycle, I'm on my 7th, we each have best friends who got pregnant the first try, we're each hosting baby showers and struggling with the infuriating, frustrating, startling, frightening, overwhelming, maddening range of emotions that come with this process. We both fight feelings of jealousy, envy, and down-right resentment at the difficulties we're facing--mixed with moments of reflection and glimmers of acceptance.

And we share the same strange mental block-- the inability to imagine ourselves looking at a positive pregnancy test or the belief that it will ever happen...even while we fully know and accept that one we WILL have children, through whatever means possible.

It helps to feel slightly less lonely.

Another relief: the Cle.arblue E.asy monitor detected peak hormone levels today. Day 25. Still, I'll take it.

Let's hope my husband's crap week at work doesn't put him entirely off babymaking tonight.

I Should Be More Careful; or, Day 17

Day 17. No egg whites. CBEFM still reading low. Am I not going to ovulate on schedule this month (generally before day 22)? Or at all?

Part of me kind of wants me to not ovulate...because then I can go into the doctor next month and start testing and figure out what's going on get me knocked up through whatever means possible.

And part of me really, really wants to ovulate. Because if I don't...then maybe I have a problem and this isn't just normal, oh-it-takes-the-average-couple-at-least-six-months stuff.

I started to cry in the car this morning on my way to teach. Just thinking--I'm broken, I'm broken.

This fucking roller coaster.