Break Dancing Has A Whole New Meaning

You can see the break on the left side of the Xray

I've done it. I have officially missed my first month blogging. I wanted to write, I did. I just didn't. I didn't do much this past month and a half really. Except turn 30 and in the process break my first bone. 

Let me explain. Since I was about 22, I had this crazy idea that when I turned 30 I would throw a outrageous 80s prom. Not a party with an 80s theme, but an actual prom that just so happens to take place in the 1980s. This year was that year, and after nearly a decade of talking and planning, I actually did it. I rented a hall, formed a prom committee to help me plan and decorate, hired a dj and enjoyed a magical night dancing under crepe paper steamers and foil stars. It truly was a fantastic party and everything came together perfectly. The only exception is, it was the one and only night I have ever tried to really dance in heels and now I am paying for it with a broken foot.

I have been completely non-weight bearing and on crutches for 4 weeks now and I have to tell you, it isn't fun. It's so hard not being able to walk down the block or drive myself anywhere or get myself a glass of water. But the truly depressing thing is not being able to take care of my precious Snow Pea. I can't pick her up, or sit on the floor to play with her, or chase her around the house. This is what I do. This is my life. I am a stay at home mom, if I can't care for my daughter what kind of life do I really have? I can't describe how heartbroken I was the first day I was on crutches and Eliana reached out her hand for me to hold as we walked and I had to tell her I couldn't do it. It was one of the most gut-wrenching moments of my life.

I am incredibly lucky to have a husband with a job that he is both good at and trusted to do from home so that he can be here to do all of the heavy lifting while I can't. I am very grateful to him for the insane amount of responsibility he has taken on since I have been forced to spend large parts of my day with my foot elevated. He has worked very hard to keep up with the laundry, the shopping, the cooking, cleaning and taking care of a hyper toddler while still attempting to do his own job and keep a roof over our heads. To say he is doing it all is an understatement. And while I appreciate all of this very much, it is also killing me. Not only does it drive me crazy when he does things in a different way or a different order than I would (and this true of almost everything) but it kills me that he is now the sun and the moon for Eliana, and I am just an orbiting satellite. As the working parent, my husband also gets to more often be the "fun" one, the one that comes home after a day apart and have new energy to play and laugh which leaves me as the at home parent to be the one she runs to most often when she needs something. But now that I can no longer give her the things she is asking for, and I can't play with her in the rough and tumble way a toddler thrives on, I feel more like an accessory than a real parent. 

One thing I have learned in the past 20 months I have been a parent is that time flies and each new stage of her development is only new for a few weeks before the next new stage begins. Being completely unable to stand on my own two feet, I feel like I am missing so much of the fun and joy of this time with her. This is time I will never be able to get back. Once she goes to the next phase, this one will be just a memory and I'm afraid I am only getting to experience it from the fringes. Just this afternoon, it was decided that a trip to the grocery store would be more efficient if I stayed home and kept my foot up so Eliana and Chad are out doing the errands she and I normally do together while I stay here with my laptop. I hate feeling like I am missing out on my daily life but all three of us are learning to cope.

Right before Christmas, we rented a wheelchair so that I could participate in our annual tradition of strolling along  our neighborhood's "Candy Cane Lane" and enjoying the lights. Since I was on wheels, my lap became Eliana's seat and we cuddled together while she pointed out sparkly lights and cutout snowmen. We've also successfully navigated a couple of trips to Disney this way which has been a joy. Eliana and I have even figured out a way to hold hands while I'm on crutches by me extending my index finger for her to grip on to. It's not perfect but it has definitely made me appreciate these little moments. I'm not sure how I feel about my daughter being the only kid her age that knows how to say "crutches" or that anytime she hears someone say "ouch" she responds with "foot! Mommy's foot!" but I do love that she came to me the other day and gently patted my broken foot and gave it an "all better" kiss. I'm so worried about missing time with her and sweet girl that she is, she's just concerned about me feeling all better. 

I think the greatest benefit I've gotten from breaking my foot, is my new found appreciation for having complete mobility. I never realized just how much I took it for granted, how much we all do, until I lost some of it. I am definitely counting myself lucky that my condition is a temporary one. I still have a hard time being forced to take a back seat in my own life. I actually look forward to the day I can carry laundry up and down the stairs or go to the grocery store and buy ingredients for the week's meals. I especially look forward to the day I can run, jump, play and dance with my precious little girl again. Until then, I am doing my best to cherish the quiet moments- cuddling her on my lap as I read a book, having her bring me cup after cup of pretend tea and singing her favorite songs with her as she shows off her dance moves. I just hope she's a little less clumsy than her mother and that her dance moves never have the same results mine did. ;)

The Infertility Oscars

This past Tuesday, October 2 was The Resolve Night of Hope in NYC, or as they have been affectionately referred to by some, The Infertility Oscars. After all, The Night of Hope truly is the infertility community's red carpet night. Doctors, advocates, bloggers, drug companies, journalists and therapists all working within and somehow touched by infertility, come together to share hope and honor those who have been making a difference in the community. I was honored enough to be among them and receive the Hope Award for Best Blog. 

Not long after Resolve emailed me to inform me that I had won, I realized I would need to give some sort of acceptance speech. I was equally thrilled and terrified. I don't talk about this much here, but long before infertility became my focus in life, I was a die-hard theater student. I spent all of my childhood, teens and at least half of my college years either in an acting class or onstage in some way. I, like most aspiring actors, have often practiced my academy award thank yous in the mirror. However, having long ago moved on to other passions, I have never thought I would actually be on a brightly lit stage in a pretty dress, thanking my husband for his support in helping me achieve this honor. But now thanks to this blog and the incredible love and support of the infertility community, there I was trying to write my heartfelt and grateful remarks without going over the time limit that would get me cut off by the "wrap it up" music. 

I had drafts of what I would say in my head for weeks. I'd think of a meaningful sentiment randomly throughout the day and make mental notes to include it. Finally the night of the event, I sat in the cab with Chad, furiously re-reading and revising my handwritten remarks. I had covered everything I wanted to say and timed myself enough to know it would stay under the minute and a half I was allotted. The only problem was I couldn't get through my rehearsals without crying. I just meant every word so deeply there was no way I could stop myself from getting choked up. I know it would have been ok to cry but I didn't want it to make me lose myself and prevent me from saying what I needed to say. 

In the end though, it didn't matter. I cried that night many times, but not during my speech. I cried during cocktails while Chad and I were speaking with Jennifer Ludden, NPR Correspondent and Marisa Peñaloza, NPR Producer about the powerful effects of positive journalism covering infertility. I cried during the awards watching the Pampers "Every Little Miracle" ad. (Click and keep a dry eye, I dare you) I cried during dessert speaking with fertility clinic nurses and hearing just how deeply they cared about the work they do and their patients. I teared up during speeches, hugs and in the middle of conversations. It was amazing to be in a room full of people that were simultaneously so professional yet so equally emotional and passionate. I remember so many incredible discussions and heartfelt moments from the night, but I don't have a clue what happened during my speech. 

I walked onstage, thanked my presenter, turned to face the audience, spoke the first 3 words I had written down and completely lost my place. So I just went with it. I said what was in my heart. Since I actually had written my remarks out and practiced them, I felt like I had managed to cover just about everything I wanted to say but in not quite the way I meant to say it. After I walked offstage, I was buzzing with excitement and a bit of confusion. How did that go? What the heck did I say up there, exactly? Did I make a fool of myself? I wasn't entirely sure.

After some reassurance from Chad and fellow bloggers Jen (http://thisismorepersonal.tumblr.com/) and Jay (http://the2weekwait.blogspot.com/) that I hadn't mucked the whole thing up, I breathed a sigh of relief and enjoyed the rest of what was a beautiful and incredibly inspiring night. I thought about typing up the speech I had written for you here, but since Chad was wonderful enough to capture it on video, I would rather share with you the speech I gave. 

I again, can't thank this community enough for all it has have given me. And although very few of my friends or family have ever seen my blog, I am incredibly grateful to each and every one of them for the incredible love and support they have shown me and Chad as they have learned about our struggle. I am a lucky girl. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart. 

Somewhat Wordless Wednesday: Party Planner

Planning for Snow Pea's 1st birthday is officially underway! Eek!

Mommy Guilt

This past weekend we learned that Snow Pea is allergic to eggs. Poor girl loves them, gobbled them up like candy, but before she had finished her meal hives began appearing around her mouth, chin and jawline. So we did what any reasonable parent would do and took them away then immediately called the on-call nurse at our pediatrician's office. She gave us instructions on what to watch for and administering ben.adryl if necessary and reassured that most kids outgrow this type of allergy but that we should stay away from eggs right now. We were nervous, checking on our breathing throughout her entire morning nap, but honestly her reaction was very mild. The bumps were gone no more than 15 minutes after they appeared and she never fussed or whined to indicate that they were bothering her in any way.

I have still had the incident on my mind though and wanted to follow up with her actual pediatrician to discuss what to expect, what to stay away from and whether we should think about allergy testing. The doctor was nice, helpful and informative and she made me feel guilty as hell. She said that her office doesn't recommend eggs at all for babies under a year, and that introducing them before a year can actually cause the allergy. She also said that this allergy can be very serious and may lead other even more dangerous allergies like peanuts and that she could be allergic for life due to early exposure. So what I heard was "your daughter is allergic to eggs and it might be very dangerous and she'll have to live with it forever and it's ALL YOUR FAULT."

I got off the phone and just felt so terrible. Like I had screwed up, made a huge mistake and jeopardized her health for life. This perfect little girl trusts me every second of every day to take care of her. To change her if she's wet, to keep her from getting hurt, to feed her when she's hungry. And in doing those things for her there are so many decisions to be made: Do I use cloth diapers or disposables? Do I rush in the second she cries or let her try to soothe herself? Should I give her a dose of ty.lenol when she's teething or stay clear of medications? What foods should I give her for lunch today? All of these little moments seem to have a huge weight behind them. And when things go well, when I choose to let her self soothe and she's asleep again in less than 5 minutes, I feel good about the choices I'm making. But when they go wrong or worse, when someone puts their opinion into the mix, that's when the mommy guilt sets in.

I can't help it sometimes. I know I'm doing my best. I know that I love my daughter more than anything and that I am being proactive about raising her but the damn guilt is always just around the corner waiting to get me. When the egg incident first happened, I felt a twinge of guilt but I reminded myself that she was fine and that now we know and prevent anything worse from occurring. But talking to the doctor poked a hole into my mommy confidence. I can still hear her saying "well we don't recommend that at all, but what's done is done". That phrase took from feeling like an involved parent looking out for my child's best interest, to a heap of guilty feelings. I felt like I had made the worst kind of mistake. I felt that when it came to caring for my child's health, I had failed.

I've since talked myself off the edge of the guilt ledge, thanks to a lot of love and support from my husband and my lovely twitter family, but I can't say I won't blame myself if it turns out she does have a lifelong food allergy. And I have to say I kind of resent the world for creating that thought in my head. Of course I know that as her parent, I have more influence on her life than just about anyone else, but I am not the only influence. There are so many variables in the universe that I have zero control over and her immune system is one of them. But somehow everything we do or don't do as parents is blamed for everything that happens to a child. If something is wrong with your baby, the first thing people jump to is what you did to cause it. Your child has reflux? You must be feeding them the wrong thing or not burping them well. Your child has colic? You must be overstimulating or understimulating them to make them cry so much. Your baby still doesn't sleep through the night? You must be spoiling them or not spoiling them enough. It's enough to drive anyone crazy!

So my kid is allergic to eggs. Did I really cause it? Do I really have that much power and influence over her body? Maybe. But do I have to feel guilty about it? Do I have to writhe in sadness, thinking I've destroyed my child's life? No. I need to let myself off the hook a little. I need to remember that no matter how hard I try, I will make mistakes. I don't have to be a perfect parent because there is no such thing. And more than that, there is no definition of a perfect parent. For every "proven" opinion out there there is one in direct opposition with the same amount of research behind it. I've heard from countless people in the past few days telling me that their pediatricians recommended starting eggs and even peanuts before a year instead of after. So who's right? I'll probably never know. But what I do know is this: I am a good mom, this probably won't be my last case of mommy guilt and it might be time to find a new pediatrician.

8 Month Attitude

December 15 and my 1st post all month? Not to mention 6 days after the actual event I am blogging about. Wow, I think this is my worst case of blog procrastination yet! In my defense though I also haven't been brushing my hair or wearing make-up quite as often these days. You see I am now the mother of an 8 month old. And what I didn't fully realize, is that a baby this age is almost nothing like the one that came before it.

When you're embarking on parenthood you brace yourself for all the typical new baby stuff everyone is obsessed with warning you about: sleepless nights, spit up, colic, and I felt ready. I knew what to expect and I lucked out with a baby that slept relatively well, didn't scream or cry too often and virtually never regurgitated her meals. And as she grew she just got more fun, more sweet. My absolute favorite thing in the world has been her covering my cheek in slobbery kisses right before she goes to bed and sleeps for an uninterrupted 12 hours. Or at least it used to be. Because that is not my baby anymore. Now she has attitude, and plenty of it!

I have always been a teeny bit anxious about what parenting will be like as my kids grow up. There are so many obstacles to face and guide them through. Raising kids isn't easy and there are bound to be moments when my kids don't like me, when they don't want to give me a kiss goodbye or eat the dinner I spent all night making them. I knew it would come one day but I had years until I really had to worry about that, right? WRONG. The only thing my once sweet, happy baby seems to have done for the past week is whine, scream and yell.

Now that she is 8 months old and more aware of the world around and all that it has to offer, she is constantly bored. The things that used to make her laugh for an hour, are now old news after 2 minutes. I used to get a ok amount of items crossed off my to-do list each day, but now I feel like a circus performer frantically attempting to entertain my daughter before she has yet another nuclear meltdown. And boredom isn't the only thing that invokes her wrath. If she's hungry, she will yell and whine until food is produced and if it's not food she likes, she doesn't stop at spitting it out, she screams and blows 'raspberries', spraying the broccoli and carrots I spent an afternoon steaming and pureeing for her all over my face. She does have exceptionally good fine motor skills which she has further honed by eating cheerios, picking them up one at a time with her fingers. But you can't give her one unless you're prepared to give her an entire box, because if they're gone, it's DEFCON 1 and screams are imminent.

And it's not just daytime that's reserved for hysterical screaming. Oh no, now 2am has become a popular time for all-out, scream at the top you lungs cry-fests. The night before last our entire household probably slept 3 hours in between all the tears. I got better night's sleep when she was just a few weeks old and waking to nurse all night. At least then she could eat and drift back off for another solid 3 hours until it was time to eat again. She hasn't been nursing in the middle of the night for a while now, but it's not surprising that she's suddenly waking up hungry again, considering she sprays more of her dinner on to my shirt than ever makes it into her mouth the past few days.

Before you ask, yes we have thought about teething. We're keeping an eye on her gums and I think that it does have some part to play since she has yet to sprout any teeth, but it doesn't seem to be the only reason for her personality changes. Some of it, I think, is just her growing up. And that is so much more difficult for me than being able to blame it on teeth. I'm just not ready for this! She gets annoyed at me now. My sweet, easygoing baby gets mad and whines if she doesn't get her way. And most heartbreaking of all, she stopped giving me kisses. She used to get so excited to plant her mouth on my cheek, she'd smile and giggle and reach for my face over and over again. Now she not only refuses to give me even a single non-smiley kiss, she shrieks and turns her head if my face gets too near hers. It's killing me! I thought this wasn't supposed to happen until they were older and didn't want to look un-cool in front of their friends. It takes all of my strength not to take it personally and cry when I ask for a kiss and she growls and pushes me away. I know it's part of her development and that these things will ebb and flow, but still, it stings.

To be fair, attitude, opinions and independence aren't the only milestones she's achieving at 8 months. She has also mastered the art of clapping! When she started waving just before turning 7 months, I predicted that clapping would soon follow and sure enough it did! Her first real clap was during the 20 minute snippet of The Muppet Movie she saw with us. She was absolutely enthralled by it dancing and bouncing in my lap and then all of the sudden clapping out loud to express her joy. Now she does it to show her appreciation for good book, a nice rendition of "Itsy Bitsy Spider" or the hilarity that is Mommy putting anything on her head that shouldn't be there (Silly Mommy! Blocks don't go on your head but I applaud the effort you're making to keep me entertained.) It isn't kisses but it is incredibly cute and I have to admit love the sound of her tiny hands smacking together. It is one of my greatest joys lately.

And speaking of greatest joys, even at her whiniest, Eliana is still mine. Earlier this week, Chad and I were out to dinner with his colleagues. They were nice enough to move the reservation early in the evening so that we could bring the baby before her bedtime. Eating out with an 8 month old is no easy feat. As we took her turns trying to feed her, change her diaper in tiny bathroom stalls and digging through her diaper bag for any object that might somehow appease her for more than a second, I thought to myself how much easier this dinner would be if it were just me and Chad and how happier I am eating cold food so that I can take care of my amazing daughter than I ever could have dreamed. Yes, I get annoyed at her screams but my very next thought is always how incredibly grateful I am to be hearing them. After years of hearing people complain about their cranky babies and thinking to myself how incredibly thrilled I'd be to have a cranky baby of my own, I'm lucky enough to finally be proving myself right. I seriously love her more than I could ever express. And it doesn't make sense considering everything I just said but I love her crankiness too. I love that it gives me an opportunity to get to know new parts of her personality, I love that mid-cry, I can still trick her into a smile if I time my peekaboo just right. At least once a day I get overwhelmed with love and have to scoop her up and smother her in hugs and cuddles, telling I love her over and over again and lately it's when she's in a whiny mood that my love comes gushing out. She doesn't want to kiss me, that's ok. It breaks my heart a little but it's ok, because she can't stop me from kissing her double to make up for it!

Why So Blue, Baby?

My baby girl is now nearly 10 days old, and for the first week of her life I was floating so high on a wave of happiness, I began to wonder whether the granddaddy of postpartum symptoms, "the baby blues" would visit me or if I had somehow lucked out and dodged the volatile emotions of the post-pregnancy hormone crash. Over the past few days I have seen that I am in no way that lucky, and I have been a hormonal, crying mess for quite a few of my waking hours.

The good news is I am still head over heels in love with my little girl. And my husband for that matter. If it were up to me and I could make the real world stop, I would hide away with the two of them in a little cocoon for a week or more, not interacting with anyone or anything else. I just want the two of them near me every second and I want everything else to stay at a distance, just for a little while until I feel like me again. But alas, the real world continues to move whether I want it to or not and this is the first morning that Chad has been back to the office. I am actually doing ok with it, mostly because I know he is only staying half a day and then working from home in the afternoon.

The thing making this period of baby blues hard on me is the loop of emotions and thoughts that I just need time to cope with. Not long ago I wrote this post about how excited I was to finally meet my precious Snow Pea, but also about how much I would miss being pregnant. I had no idea just how much I would miss it though. It was my identity for nearly nine months. I don't think it's something you even realize at the time but being pregnant becomes a part of who you are and how the world sees you. It's a lot like leaving a relationship or a job, once it's over, you have to adjust to a new description of yourself, a new role and I miss having "pregnant" be one of my descriptors. I spent years trying to attain that role and I cherished every second, now I am sad to say goodbye to it. I miss being out and feeling that special glow of attention that the belly attracted. I miss talking with friends about the latest symptom or developmental milestone. I miss the special moments with Chad or by myself just rubbing my belly and feeling the life inside. When she was in my belly, I felt every squirm, every hiccup. Chad could lay his head on my tummy and hear every thump of her little heart. I was never alone. No matter what I did or where I went she was always closer to me than anyone had ever been. We were connected.

One of my favorite times of day the past nine months was our mornings together. Each day, me and my belly went for a walk and although I often used that time to catch up on phone calls with friends and family, it was also a special time for me and Snow Pea. I loved seeing my belly grow through my various workout clothes, loved rubbing my tummy as I walked, love the smiles I received from neighbors out tending to their yards as I strolled by. Even more special to me, I realized this morning, was my post walk shower. Every morning, I cranked the Journey station on my Pandora and serenaded my sweet girl with goofy 80's rock ballads, imagining how she would respond to them once she was born after hearing them in utero for so long. For the entire 9 months of my pregnancy I always felt that connection, I always felt her presence, but in the shower this morning I realized for the first time since she was born that I was in there alone. I could sing all I wanted but, Eliana, asleep in the next room, wouldn't hear me. It was a bittersweet realization because I absolutely adore having her in my arms but I also miss having her in my belly. I sometimes still rub my tummy out of a nearly year long habit and feel wistful at the absence of her presence there.

I think part of what makes me miss being pregnant so much though, isn't just the feeling of missing her, it's the way I made the transition from being pregnant to not. I thought I was over it. Days after her birth, before I even left the hospital, I was so elated and so relieved to have my sweet baby in the world, in my arms that I truly felt at peace with my unplanned, unexpected c-section delivery. She was here and that was all that mattered. But now that the dust has settled and the hormones have crept in, I feel robbed of the full childbirth experience and of the time immediately following her arrival into the world. I am planning to write her full birth story soon, hopefully when I am feeling less weepy, so I won't get into a lot of detail now, but I will tell you I was incredibly close to a vaginal delivery and everyone involved did all they could to make that happen, but it just didn't work out. And I am eternally grateful that she is here safe and sound, but I can't help but long for that birth experience and feel jealous of those that have had it.

The worst part of a c-section and what no one ever told me, is that as soon as the baby is free from your body, they shoot you full of drugs that leave you completely out of it, just short of comatose. Which means that I have only the vaguest of memories of those first few moments of her life. She was also born quite a few shades too pale with some swelling on her head on difficulty breathing, so she was taken to the nursery for care and observation and rather than spending those first hours of her life with her and Chad in our own little world, choosing her name and forming a family bond, I was alone and drugged while Chad tried to balance his time between visiting me and her on two different floors of the hospital.

Before you start to worry about me and my mental state, please know that I don't spend every second feeling this way. I am not feeling depressed or irrational. Just blue. It has only been two days of weepiness and it's not constant or overpowering. I do more than cry, I still smile and laugh throughout the day too. I am eating and sleeping and taking care of myself. I don't think there is anything wrong with me, I am just coping with the craziness of these hormonal changes while also coming to terms with a couple of valid, emotional changes. But I have a great support system and some decent coping skills thanks to dealing with the emotions of infertility and the crazy hormonal swings that come with fertility treatments, and this too shall pass. I am just keeping my eye on that light at the end of the tunnel, knowing that I am definitely not the first to have baby blues and that I will come through to the other side of them very soon.

Weighty Realizations

Today is results day. My one hour glucose tolerance test for gestational diabetes test was last week and this morning I went in for my bi monthly OB appointment, knowing that I would also be getting back the results of that test. I, of course, like anyone else, hoped that I would pass so that I could avoid the longer, more involved 3 hour glucose tolerance test and strict gestational diabetes diet. I felt pretty optimistic this morning that I would get good news though, and enjoyed my drive to the office as I stared in the rearview mirror at the gorgeous snow covered mountains behind me. Now that I have been to my appointment, I have good news and bad news.

Throughout my pregnancy, it has been important to me to keep my weight gain within the recommended limits. I haven't been counting calories or obsessing over what to eat, but I have been mindful of it, and also been staying active with daily walks (usually twice daily if my schedule allows it). I have a had a few tiny jumps in weight gain, and although my numbers have been higher than I expected at some OB visits, I have always stayed within the range. After my last OB visit, I resolved to be easier on myself mentally and not worry about whether my weight gain was a pound or two higher than expected since, while occasionally on the high end, I have still consistently stayed in the healthy range.

I haven't gotten much bigger since my last appointment and I've been told by a few friends that I still don't even look pregnant except for my round belly. I am still able to cross my legs, move around easily and even wear some pre-pregnancy clothes (including at least one pair of pants!) With this appointment being right after the holidays, I fully expected my number on the scale to be a bit higher than what is expected in a two week period. But having this in mind, I was prepared and I felt good. I was not, however, at all prepared for what actually happened this morning. I stepped on the scale totally ready for a higher than normal 3 pound jump, but instead I shot up 6! In two weeks! Which puts me over the recommended weight gain for this stage of pregnancy. In fact, after today, I have just about reached my total recommended weight gain for the entire pregnancy, and I still have 12 weeks to go. I did not handle this realization well. At all.

As soon as the nurse left and I had time to process what the scale had said, I got a little teary eyed. Then Chad hugged me and tried to soothe me and I teared a little more. Then I tried to articulate why I was so upset and a full tear made it out and rolled down my cheek. Then the OB came in and asked what was wrong and I lost it. Full on cry fest in the exam room. It was mortifying but I couldn't make it stop. I told her my concerns and after looking at my chart, she agreed that, yes I was gaining too much. Well, that didn't help the sobbing. She kept saying it would be ok and that I'd just have to eat well and exercise from here on. Which pissed me off because I have been doing that! I will admit, I have not eaten nearly as well or exercised as much over the holidays, but I also have not been stuffing my face with fries and milkshakes and I have still gotten a few good walks in.

The whole thing just made me feel so bad about myself. I have worked so incredibly hard to get here and I was already failing as a mother, not taking good enough care of myself or my baby. I just couldn't stop crying. And for some reason, me crying made Dr. Inconsiderate keep talking about it. All I wanted her to do was stop. The more she talked, the more I wanted her to shut up. I kept trying to pull myself together but her chit chat about how it was bad but not that bad and I could turn it around and slow things down and yadda yadda yadda just kept me from being able to take a deep breath and calm down. I know she was trying to help, but really she was making it worse. Finally she left the room to get my glucose test results and I was able to get it together a little bit.

The great news is I passed the glucose test with flying colors. No gestational diabetes for me and no need for the 3 hour test. The bad news is, I am on the carb/sugar restricted diet anyway for my weight gain. The only things I have consistently craved since day one has been cereal and fruit. I am addicted to apples, tangerines, pears and grapefruit as well as just about anything made from grain or rice with milk poured over it. Turns out that my biggest pregnancy cravings, while they haven't been fast food or doughnuts, are still my biggest downfall. These foods are filled with pound packing carbs that apparently are sabotaging my healthy goals. So now I have to give them up. Which really doesn't bother me nearly as much as the risk of hurting mine or Snow Pea's chances at having the rest of this pregnancy and the following labor/delivery being as healthy as possible. But it still kinda sucks.

I am also incredibly embarrassed that my emotions got the better of me while at the OB's office. I keep daydreaming about going back to do this morning's appointment over again, this time without looking at the scale or having the subsequent melt down. I had other things I wanted to talk about and go over but once the weight conversation started, pretty much everything else was out the window. Luckily, when I go back in two weeks I will be seeing Dr. Casual again and I know that his much more laid back and non-intrusive bedside manner will be much easier to deal with so that I can discuss other things and not worry as much about any of this.

I am trying really hard not to beat myself up about this. I have told Chad I will need his help emotionally to get through the hit on my self esteem, and while I know he has no idea what to do or say, he has really been there with kind, encouraging words and a few wonderfully long hugs. For that I am incredibly grateful. I also can't help but feel guilty for being so upset. Last year, I would have killed to have this be my biggest problem and cried that someone else was crying about gaining extra pregnancy weight when all I wanted to was to be pregnant. And when I remember that, it puts everything into perspective a bit. Am I unhappy about the extra weight? Yes. Would I trade this unhappiness for anything else? Hell no. So, I might go over the recommended weight gain. So, I won't win pregnant woman of the year. So what? I have realized a dream I once feared may never happen. I have a healthy baby growing inside me and that is SO much more important than some stupid scale.

Hard to Believe

I suppose it's official, I'm pregnant. So why can't I get my brain to believe it yet? My body certainly believes it with constant waves of fatigue and nausea, making it difficult to accomplish an entire day's worth of "to-do's". But I still can't seem to accept it. Every time I feel queasy my first thought is "YAY! Nausea reduces likelihood of miscarriage, this is great!" My next thought though is always along the lines of what I ate recently and whether my green face was actually caused by that or worse, completely imagined. Same with the exhaustion. I first think about how great it is that Snow Pea is making me so tired with all that growing going on, but then I re-think and wonder if I am just staying up too late. I know this is ridiculous. I am genuinely nauseous nearly everyday, and I can easily sleep 10 hours each night and still take a 2 hour nap every day. This is really happening. I am just stuck in the "too good to be true" mindset.

Well that's not entirely true. I have had flashes of acceptance and mind blowing reality checks. There's been moments when I have seen a glimpse of the magnitude of this huge reality and been completely dumbfounded at the realization that I will be a mom, I will be completely responsible for a living human being, a human being that is currently growing inside my body! It is a lot to fully comprehend, kind of like understanding how vast the universe really is. You think you understand until you really stop and think about it and then it dawns on you that this is something so much bigger than you or anything that has ever happened in your life.

Of course these moments can't last forever and I have found myself back in the realm of wondering if all this bigger than me, amazingness is going to be pulled out from under me again. Anyone who follows me on twitter knows I had a bit of a freak out when my nausea went away for a few days before my last ultrasound. (thank you again by the way for all the words of comfort during my craziness) I know morning sickness is one of the hardest things to deal with for most pregnant women and I know I am naive to think I won't be hating it after another month of daily queasiness, but right now it has become a mental security blanket. I had so many other symptoms the last time around and they felt like such a slap in the face after I learned the pregnancy wasn't viable. So now I am carrying around the nausea and the old wives tale about lower miscarriage risks, like a soft cozy teddy bear. If I even for a second think that I wish my tummy felt better, I remember that it means my Snow Pea is healthy and smile instead.

Besides the obvious mental protection I'm doing by not fully believing this is real, I think some of my difficulty with accepting it all is normal. I've spoken to moms who had no trouble conceiving (may they know how blessed they are) and they say it didn't feel really real until they were showing or felt kicks or experienced some other big moment. And other than immediate family, very select friends and of course anyone who follows me on my blog or twitter, no one knows about Snow Pea so that makes it seem more surreal too. I think that once I reach some of these milestones I will be able to believe it more, but I also have a feeling I will still have those "Wow this is too huge to wrap my head around" moments too. Because wow this is huge! I just hope I am as ready to be a mom as I always thought I was.

The 4 C's: Cramps, Crankiness, Cravings & Crazies

I wish I had an update that AF had arrived, but no such luck. And it seems that all of this waiting has made me a little crazy, envisioning AF as less of an "aunt" and more of an evil trickster faerie that enjoys toying with me.

Today it seems that she has doused me with her infamous mood swing dust. I have gone from almost smiling to all out ugly cry face in 30 seconds flat this afternoon, and not for any significant reason. I was also irrationally annoyed and snappy with Chad yesterday. This could be a good sign, right? I'll be honest, it has been easy to push me to the emotional edge these past two months, I mean it's not like you have to push far- I live pretty close to that edge lately, but still I do feel a bit more hormonally moody today. I also have had some intense junk and chocolate cravings. A fudge brownie sundae sounds like a great dinner option right now. And maybe I am just imagining symptoms but I swear I am starting to feel some tummy cramps too, unless it is just all those crunches I did this morning...

Once a paranoid symptom checker... Even when the symptoms I am hunting and hoping for are AF and not pregnancy symptoms I can't help but over-analyze every mood, every twinge, every craving. Old habits really do die hard I guess. But it does seem as if I am starting to see all 4 C's in the symptom checklist, cramps, cravings, crankiness and crazies. If these really are pre-AF symptoms, then in just a few short weeks I will be back to paranoid symptom checking for pregnancy.

Wow, that really just hit me for the first time. Yes, I am still annoyed and slightly bitter that it's been taking so long for the evil AF faerie to pay me a visit, but I am so excited that once she does finally show, this FET is on! No cycle of BCP beforehand, no egg retrieval just a few quick checks of my uterine lining, a couple weeks of meds then BAM! transfer time. Wow that really is exciting! And I am so ready to do it.

Now I need the evil AF faerie to show! But how to get her here? The tooth fairy is after teeth, so maybe if I leave a negative HPT under my pillow tonight she'll send her "monthly gift" to me by morning? It does seem like she has already started sending her favorite gags my way. I just need to be sure she knows that even though her presence is welcome and wished for now, I have no desire to see her heartbreaking glare or any of her tricks after this transfer. I am ready to put this crazy silliness of mine to use having fun with my kids, and I will gladly put the other 3 C's to use during the 9 month process of bringing my child into the world.


***UPDATE*** As I hoped the AF faerie came last night! I don't feel like quite like a kid on Christmas, or even one that just had a visit from the tooth fairy since is a mixed blessing of sorts what with the cramps and all, but I am pretty excited. I have my first appointment for this cycle this afternoon! That's TODAY! YAY I'M STARTING FET!!!!!

My Mirror Has Two Faces

Well now that I am into my IVF cycle I am officially seeing a doctor more times a week and taking more drugs than I ever thought I would in my entire life, and today those numbers went up yet again, only this time it is in no way fertility related.

It all started with a typical cold about a week ago. Just your basic, run of the mill stuffy nose, post nasal drip, sore throat, body aches. But as it cleared up it left my tongue feeling slightly numb. I didn't think too much of it at first, I still had some sinus congestion and figured all that extra mucus was probably just messing with my taste buds and leaving my mouth feeling off, plus I had been forced to breathe through my mouth for a few days and that always causes weirdness. But when the numbness still wasn't gone by the end of the week I started to wonder. I did some asking around with Dr. Google and on twitter and decided to call my RE to be sure it wasn't a reaction to the Lupron (facial swelling/numbness can be a symptom of a serious allergic reaction). I was so nervous that this would be the case and my cycle would be canceled. Thankfully he ruled a reaction out pretty quickly and we confirmed it when I went in for my weekly appointment on Friday morning. By then the numbness had gone down considerably and was back to just being on the tip of my tongue.

Saturday though was a whole new world. That's when the entire left side of my face started feeling numb and stopped working! When I tried to eat, smile, or put on lipstick I realized that the left side of my mouth was not quite cooperating. Then I realized I also couldn't raise my left eyebrow and Chad noticed that my left eye wasn't blinking. It was a simultaneously hilarious and frightening sight to say the least. By the time we realized just how paralyzed my face was it was really late and I was very tired so Chad and I both decided to sleep and then decide how to proceed in the morning.

Well this morning came and at first I felt completely back to normal. All feeling had returned and I was feeling good. So good that i broke into a great big smile , a great big HALF smile. Yep, I thought I was healed overnight but I was very wrong. So we called the Nurse hotline offered by our insurance and described what was happening and of course she recommended seeking medical treatment so off to the ER we went. Apparently facial paralysis is not a good thing and we were whisked through to a room very quickly, where I was also quickly diagnosed with Bell's Palsy.

It sounds like a scary name, but it's actually very common and very random. It's comes out of nowhere and then usually goes away on it's own as mysteriously as it came. It's basically a compressed facial nerve that cause temporary facial paralysis on one side. They believe it's caused by an viral infection but there is no 100% way to determine what caused it. I just know that it's not serious and it goes away on it's own most of the time.

Of course I was yet again freaked out that this would somehow impact my IVF cycle but so far things are still going according to plan. After calling my RE to confirm that it is OK for me to take additional meds with the ones I am currently on for IVF (and also having a nice little giggle about my distorted face), the ER doctor prescribed me a steroid to assist the repair of my facial nerve and an anti-viral medication for the whatever may have caused this to begin with. I also have to use artificial tears for my non-blinking eye so that it doesn't dry out and get infected. So that's 3 drugs to add to my list. Oh and I start my stims tonight, so add 2 more. Which means this week I will be receiving an injection in my thigh, an injection containing 2 medications in my stomach, orally taking 2 different steroids (one of them 3 times a day), and another oral dose of an anti-viral medication 4 times a day. Whew, that is a whole lot of drugs in one little body.

There is no way to know how long this Bell's Palsy thing will last. Dr Google, and the ER doc both said it can be gone in days or in months. My sister in law knew someone who had it for 2 years and other people I have talked said it went away for their respective friends and family members after a few weeks. I am also slightly nervous about the small possibility that this will not clear up completely. Chad did some searching and found out that George Clooney, Pierce Brosnan, and Katie Holmes have all been affected by Bell's Palsy, and I don't know if you see it but don't they all have slightly crooked smiles?

Honestly though I am trying to stay optimistic and hope this goes away as quickly and completely as it came. But for now I can do an uncanny and hilarious "Two Face" impression, although don't expect to see me in any photos until this clears up, I don't want to break any cameras.