Dear Body...

Dear Body,
You've been used. You've been abused.

But you know what? You deserve it!

You've hurt me more than I've hurt you. I'm typically not one to hold onto grudges very long. But I cannot forgive you.

Perhaps you cannont forgive me either.

We use to be close. Now, I am willing to take some of the responsibility for us parting ways. Yes, I use to run 5 miles a day. But, things change, you know.

I'm no longer the 20 something college student with hardly a care in the world.

No, I am now 31 year old, I have a kid, a marriage, and a stressful job. It seems you don't take this into consideration. I'm overweight, stressed, and sleep deprived.

You can't say I don't try. I AM TRYING!! I'm trying to reconcile. For the past month, I'm eating high fiber, low fat, and limiting my calories. I'm trying to excercise.

I really hope you start to appreciate my efforts. In addition to the above attempts at reconcilation, I'm also taking supplements to help YOU feel better.

You have never been reliable. You know what I'm talking about. Yeah, the whole fertility and miscarriage subject. Remember?

See that's the thing... I can't seem to get over that minor detail of my life.

I forgave you after the first miscarriage. I thought it would never happen again.

Then came the infertility, and this is when you started to fail me!

We tried, and tried, and tried, but you wouldn't help me. I went to the doctor. They couldn't help me. I can't say I was ever overly confident of the doctor, but I expected more from you.

I then fell into a depression. I gained weight. I thought you'd show mercy on me. And you did... for 8 1/2 weeks.

A "miracle" pregnancy. Remember that one? I was being prepped to go to the OR. Remember that nice dermoid cyst on my left ovary you created? Yeah, the one with fat and thyroid tissue? Yeah, that was fun. And they did a pregnancy test before surgery and, low and behold, after 2 years of TTC I was pregnant! And the whole pre-op department was cheering, and laughing, and happy for us? I just knew that pregnancy was meant to be!

Only it wasn't.

I've had it! The last straw was this past September. Another "miracle" pregnancy that lasted 12 weeks. The baby was alive hours before I miscarried! What the hell happened? Why was my cervix so thin? Now I can't even trust my cervix?!?

Is it a clotting disorder? Is it immunological? Is it PCOS? You have no answers.

I'm sorry to rehash all of this. I just can't trust you anymore. I suppose you can't trust me either.

But I will try, Body, I will try to respect you more. I am recommiting myself to you. We have to learn to live with each other. I will lose weight, and get more sleep, and excercise more. I'll take my vitamin supplements in hopes that we both gain something.

2008 is still new. Let's both make an effort to rekindle what we once had.

Thanks for Listening,
Jen

Think Before You Speak

If there is one thing infertility has taught me, it is to think before I speak.

For example, my friend who recently found out she was pregnant, has had some intermittent spotting. She knows, as do I, that it could be "nothing", or it could be "something."

I think the old Jen, meaning the fertile Jen, would have conjured up such wise words such as, "Everything is going to be fine," or the "If it's meant to be, it will be."

Now the less-fertile but wiser Jen really doesn't say to much to my friend in way of advice. I just let her talk... and tell her that I'll be there for her every step of the way.

See, I've learned... think before you speak.

The reason I bring this all up is I had an awful experience the other day. You see, my dear son turns 5 in a few short days. I can't believe that he's that old! It's gone by so quickly, and everyday he gets bigger, and smarter, and, well, less dependent on me. All of this is bitter sweet. I love to see the person he is turning into, but at the same time, it is hard to see him getting so big!

So, my friend and I have been looking for an excuse to get together. I've been getting everything ready for all of Matthew's birthday festivities (in 3 different states, mind you!). So, she volunteered to "help," as well just get together.

I was making little "goody" bags, and she was helping me stuff them. I was showing her the rather detailed Pirate cupcakes I'm planning on making for his class(pictures to follow!), as well as the other things I have planned.

To which she replied, "You can tell you only have ONE kid!"

Gee, thanks for noticing! Would you like me to lie down on the floor? Perhaps it would be easier for you to kick me if I get down for you?

Of all the idiotic things to say!

Now, I know what she meant. It appears as if I have to much time on my hands. I have always had the tendency to over-do things... to take on more than what is needed. But the truth of the matter is, if I had 10 kids, I think I would do the same for all 10, because that's just what I do. I like to think I'm kind of a "Martha Stewart" type, minus that whole insider trading thing. I love home-making and being crafty, and all of that stuff. I was like this before I got married and before I had Matthew. Having a kid is like hitting the jack-pot when you're crafty, because there are so many opportunities to create things alone, and with the child.

Now, this friend knows what we've been through. I know she didn't mean to be cruel.

I wish I could have come up with something witty after the remark was said such as,"Yeah, in between working out of the home part-time, crunching numbers to see if we can afford fertility treatments and/or adoption, doing house-work, researching infertility treatments and adoption, and, oh yeah, taking care of my ONE kid, I like to be crafty."

But I didn't. I kind of tried to ignore what was said, and move on.

Just move on.

A Very Crafty Christmas

Greetings to all.

It's 12:30 am. I've just wrapped up all my crafts that I'm giving out as gifts.

Check me out!

Here is a cook book made out of one of those dollar cheap "brag book" type photo albums. Perfect for putting your 4 x 6 recipe cards in!


I gave a cook book and a tin of fabulous cookies to Matthew's teachers:


Just so you think I'm not totally cheap, I also got them a Panera gift card!

Matthew helped me make these ornaments for his Grandma & Nana:

You can't tell by the photo, but Matthew made sure there was a whole lot of glue and glitter on those bad boys!

My niece loves June from "Little Einsteins." So, I got her a shirt and made a matching hair bow:



And another for my youngest niece (you know her... the one that was born a few days after my latest miscarriage).



Also for this same niece, her nursery is Winnie the Pooh theme, so I made an attempt at painting and decoupaging:



So that's what I've been up to lately.

To be honest, I don't know why I take so much on. I'm now left very tired and with one huge mess on my hands!

In the long run, I think it's all worth it. I really do enjoy doing these things. If only I had a maid to come clean up behind me!

Well everyone, I think this will be the last post from me until after Christmas. Like I said yesterday, Santa is coming to our home on Saturday... and we're leaving to go visit the family in Chicago on Sunday. We're planning on coming home either next Wednesday or Thursday. It's going to be a very busy week.

Through all of this, I've really tried to keep the meaning of Christmas alive in our home. That's a hard thing to do with an almost-five-year-old. It's also a hard thing to do when your own spirituality has gone through the wringer.

This time of year, I do try to focus on the simplicity of the Christmas story. How beautiful it is. That God would humble Himself, and come to earth to dwell among us. That he loved us, and me as an individual that much.

I heard a song on the radio in the car the other day. Literally had me in tears. It went something like "He lived and died so that we may all live together with Him forever."

He came to earth so that we may ALL live together... as in my family, as in my 3 babies in Heaven. I will see them someday in Heaven.

Anyway, sorry to get all "churchy," but it struck a cord.

So, to end this post, I wish everyone the joy and peace of Christmas. May this find you well. And good tidings in 2008!

And I'll leave you with a final bit of commercialism:


Merry Christmas!

Stating the Obvious

I've been avoiding blogging about this topic. Partially because I've been very busy here... Santa comes on Saturday the 22nd to our household. So nice of him to accommodate Holiday travelers, don't you think? So, I've had to bump up getting things ready, because our Christmas is a mere 2 days away.

I haven't been on the Internet much over the past few days, nor have I been watching much TV. But that didn't let me escape the latest breaking news. Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant.

My initial reaction was that the media must have gotten it wrong... Britney's knocked up again, yes I could see that... but her 16 year old sister? They had to have gotten it wrong. But, apparently not.

Of course, I went "there." She's 16/not married/she's got her whole life ahead of her/she's in high-school! While myself, I'm almost 31/married/have a Bachelor's degree and am contemplaing going to grad school/am a mother and desperately want more children.

Doesn't seem fair, does it?

I did a quick Google search. Every year 750,000 "women" ages 15-19 get pregnant. The fact of the matter is, this happens all the time. It's just that she's a celebrity, and now is the poster child of teenage pregnancy.

After the initial shock wore off, I've been doing some thinking. While I don't think the circumstances are ideal, I must commend her. She could have made this all go away very quietly, without anyone knowing.

Instead of casting stones, I am trying to not be so harsh of my thoughts of her, and to anyone else I usually deem less than worthy of motherhood.

See, I'm getting wiser with my age... I'll be 31 in less than a month.

2008 has gotta be great!!

Bring It

In case anyone is wondering why I'm blogging at 5:45 am EST, well it's because I've been up all night cleaning up vomit and catching up on Project Runway via Tivo.

DS is sick. The throwing-up, stomach virus type of sick. I'm not feeling that great either. I wonder if my turn is next.

My point of this post at this hour is that I love this. I love being a mom. Mind you, I know I have been so lucky with my little guy. He'll be 5 in January (OMG!), and he's had all of one ear infection in the span of his lifetime. He was never colicky as a baby. He slept through the night at 8 weeks.

He's always been one happy, easy-going, healthy boy. I'm so blessed.

So, on nights like these, I feel like I'm earning my badge of motherhood. I was actually kind of smiling as I was cleaning up puke, and tucking him back in bed. He begged me to cuddle with him... something he has been getting away from. Lately, I have to steal kisses.

I've been getting a little tired of people complaining about their babies. About how they're so sleep deprived. That the baby is so fussy, and this and that. Now trust me, if this keeps going on night after night, I sincerely doubt I will remain so perky. It was very considerate of my son to have chosen tonight to get sick, since I don't have to go to work this morning.

All this being said, I love being a mom. Even when scrubbing the bathroom floor for the second time in the middle of the night. Even when doing two loads of laundry at 4 am. Even when tucking my child in, giving him cuddles, and telling him everything is going to be OK.

So, if having another child will require harsher working conditions, crappier hours, and dealing with a disgruntled baby all day and night, I say bring it.

Greetings from Chicago

I'm back in my home town this weekend. Yea!! It's so nice to come home sometimes.

I decided this would be a good weekend to visit, as I won't be coming home over Thanksgiving. Or, at least I'm not coming home for Thanksgiving. Why you might ask? Because I'll be working a single shift on Thanksgiving day, a double shift on Friday-Sunday. It's gonna kick my ass.

What I wouldn't do for a baby! Hopefully, the extra money I earn will help a little.

Speaking of baby, I saw my new niece yesterday. She's 7 weeks old. I felt really prepared to hold a new baby. I felt enough time had passed since this miscarriage that it wouldn't hurt that bad.

I was wrong.

It was all I could do to fight back the tears. I didn't cry (thank God), but it was hard. No crazy impulses to kidnap the baby (I hope you all know I'm kidding when I mention that... but sometimes I wonder if I am a little unstable!). It was difficult holding something that I should have in March... a few short months from now.

I know I need to get over it. I wish I could. Holding this precious new baby made me realize how badly I do want another child. It is worth the struggle and the hardship. But am I strong enough? Am I strong enough to try an IVF cycle... hope I get pregnant... and then hope I don't have a miscarriage.? Am I strong enough to ride the roller-coaster of adoption?

God, I hope so.

... and time goes by...

I have so much to be grateful for. Really, I do. But is it wrong to have a pity party now and then? I went to the dentist today for my routine 6 month cleaning. Every time I go to the dentist, they ask me the same question... are you pregnant or trying to get pregnant? Once again, I answer, "Still trying." The same answer I gave them back in November. Prior to that, I took a year off from going to the dentist, just because I didn't want to be asked that question again, and give them the same, disappointing answer. I then came to my senses, and realized that I must make dental hygiene a priority!

Today was the second day of giving myself injections, to hopefully stimulate my ovaries to produce a few, but not too many, good quality follicles. Let us hope.

I realized that this time last year I was pregnant. I was hopeful. I was in love. My 3rd pregnancy lasted from the day I found out (May 8th), to the day it was confirmed that it had ended (June 6th). Here I am one year later, no further along in my journey.

I guess that really isn't completly true, though. I still don't have a baby in my arms, but I have changed as a person. I can only hope that, in the long run, it is for the better.

Perhaps by my next dentist appointment, I can tell them, "I'm finally pregnant, already!" A girl can dream!