FET #1, or Clearly We Have Lost Our Minds

I have gone back and forth a hundred times about whether to blog about round two of our baby-making efforts. On one hand this whole experience has a much more laid-back feeling that the events surrounding the girls' conception, and a part of me likes it being a private, nonchalant experience. But at the same time I do from time to time look back on our experience with IVF, from the technical (what dose of Lupron was I on again?) to the emotional (four years ago is such a foggy memory) and I like the idea of being able to look back on potential-baby-number-three's beginnings as well. I would make a comment about how I hope others reading this benefit and it's all for the greater good or something, but that's not really my motivation. I know I'm not reaching a huge audience here, and I'm totally ok with that.

We did not take the decision to attempt to have a third child lightly. We agonized over it for literally years. Is this the best thing for us? And most importantly, for our girls? Things now are so easy (for lack of a better word) with the girls. They sleep all night. They are potty trained. They go to school. They feed themselves, entertain themselves, and are able to explain what they are thinking and feeling. So the temptation to maintain the status quo is there for sure. But... there's always been a but. Obviously, we have paid to keep these other two embryos frozen for a reason. I have always liked the idea of a big family. Of the thought of a household filled with lots of little voices singing "happy birthday to you" and lots of stockings lined up in a row on Christmas eve. And the thought of the girls leaving the nest at the same time, the thought of dropping them off at college and coming home... yes, I know it's 14 years in the future, but I also know how fast these first four years have gone... that thought KILLS me. I think about it way more than I should. Plus I think the girls would make amazing big sisters, and that any little soul who stumbled into our midst would be super lucky. Not that we are perfect, just that we have lots of love to spare. Would I be ok with life as a family of 4? Yeah, I'd be ok. But I would always spend the rest of my life with that little "what if" buzzing around in my head. I'm ready to try. 

So off we go. If you will remember, when we left off we had two children and two cryopreserved embryos. About 2 months ago I went for an appointment at CRM to talk to our doctor about the FET (frozen embryo transfer, for those playing along at home) and get an idea of what to expect. Of course the protocol is much less demanding than it was for a fresh cycle of IVF. Yesterday was my hysteroscopy- done under general anesthesia- and my uterus got an "all clear" from Dr. Loy and company. As soon as the biopsies that they took come back (next week) I will get my final consult and start the drugs! Probably about a month of shots. I don't mind the subcutaneous ones at all, but the PIO (progesterone in oil) are an intramuscular and I am not sure how I'm going to manage that this time. When I was doing my fresh cycle, the school nurse where I was teaching was AMAZINGLY generous and did my PIO shots for me. Hoping I can either figure out how to do them myself or luck into someone equally as awesome to poke me in the butt with a giant needle for a couple of weeks. Then the transfer, probably in October, and voila! Either pregnant or not.

I do want to say that in the interim here, we have NOT made any attempt to get pregnant spontaneously. I have to admit, I feel a little obligation to those wee totsicles. Not to mention that those are perky 31 year old eggs, as opposed to my crusty decrepit 36 year old eggs. So if we get no results from the FETs, that will be the end of our baby making. Which leads me to another question that everyone, including the lady working at the post office today, asks me. "So when are you popping out another set?" Ahem. This will be a SINGLE embryo transfer. Not that we don't adore our twins. We totally do. But I would be lying if I told you that the first year was all sunshine and roses. Combine that with the higher risk of complications from a multiple pregnancy, and we will be doing one at a time. The only snag is this: when they froze our embryos, they froze them TOGETHER, in a single straw. So they will have to be defrosted together. If only one survives the defrost, then it's a no brainer. If they both survive, however, we will transfer one and re freeze the other. Yes, unlike chicken, you can defrost and refreeze a blastocyst, however it can cause fragmentation and there is no guarantee that it will survive a second thawing. 

So there it is in a nutshell. For now life is about enjoying my girls, enjoying having a little time to pay attention to my house when the girls are at school, and trying to keep my dog from chewing his own legs off. Which is a story for another day. 

Thanks for reading. :)

30 Years of Truth: Day 13

I think this is where this blog derailed. This question was so hard for me to answer that I just kind of dropped the 30 day challenge... like 2 years ago.

Day 13: A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough-ass days.

It's not that I can't think of any. It's that I can think of SO DAMN MANY, so many tough days and so many artists I have connected with along the way, I don't even know where to start, who to thank first or last. My musical tastes are SO diverse it's hard to narrow it down to a genre, much less an artist. For me, Miss DiFranco wins the honors because she has gotten me through tough days for so very many years, her music has become a real emotional touchstone for me. Her lyrics and subject matter have stayed relevant to me as her albums have followed my journey through young adulthood's righteous indignation, new steamy loves, what it means to be female in a "man's world," romantic conflict, searching for the meaning of my existence, growing awareness of political injustices, and even parenting in this day and age. I've seen her live a handful of times and it is always a thrill for me.

I can't even name a favorite album, much less a favorite song, from Ani's catalog, but a handful spring to mind as ones that have gotten me through some of the toughest days. Studying Stones? Dilate? Not Angry Anymore? Wish I May? Tamburitza Lingua? Knuckle Down? Present/Infant? I have yelled them all at the top of my lungs, sung them into the mirror, choked on them between sobs, screamed them from roof tops. I have whispered them into the waves, repeated them as a mantra to myself alone. Her music has been cheaper and more effective than any other therapy for me.

So thanks, Ani. If I had the opportunity to talk to you, I'd sure I'd be speechless. You've pretty much said it all anyway.

Tie Dye Personality Test

It wasn't MEANT to be a personality test. Or any kind of test for that matter. It was just meant to keep us busy for a while on a Saturday when Dearest had to be at work, with the slight possibility that an actual wearable product might come out of it. But expectations were pretty modest.

I had never done tie dye, not as an adult anyway, but the kit I ordered pretty much spoon-fed the technique, and the YouTube videos I got all exclaimed that "you just can't go wrong!!!" so I was willing to give it a shot. I did as much prep work as I could while the kids played elsewhere- set up shop in the garage, mixed dyes and prepped the dresses that the girls were going to add color to. And mentally prepared myself too, to let go and let them have this experience without me being worried about what the final product would look like. Not an easy task, but when things were ready Sophia and Olivia were chomping at the bit to try it!

First up was Soph. I explained to her that she could squirt the dye on or she could use the brush to put it on her dress. I told her she could use a little or a lot, and explained a bit about how the rubber bands would keep some parts of the dress white... she half listened, grabbed a dye bottle and started squirting. 

She went about her work with typical Sophia gusto. No questions asked, totally in the moment, ignoring my request that she pause to have her picture taken, and done in 60 seconds. Just done. "Was it fun?" I asked this poor child who had clearly inherited my attention span. "Yeah, Mom!" she called back over her shoulder, on her way to her next venture.

Up next was Liv. She listened carefully as I explained to her techniques and options, and had a lot of questions about "what would happen if..." and "why can't I..." before she even picked up a brush. She was thoughtful and meticulous about her dying, turning the garment over to be sure she had done a thorough job. A few minutes in, she informed me "I am Rapunzel painting this dress," not surprising as I get regular updates about who she is, usually involving a princess or a Star Wars character. (She also usually identifies Soph as her sidekick, as in "I am Ariel and Sophie is Flounder," and Soph usually plays along for a minute, or shrugs and goes about her business.) She clearly enjoyed watching the dye spread through the folds, and wanted to know if I thought she was done.

My yin and my yang. So incredibly different. Answering for all humanity the "nature vs. nurture" question. From their first breaths, these two were who they were. Sure, nurture played into it to some extent, but to a much lesser extent than I would have thought 5 years ago.

The funny thing is... despite their marked differences, the final products are both beautiful. 

And the dresses didn't come out too bad either. 

50 Questions.

I literally LITERALLY do not even remember how this works anymore.  It took me like 10 minutes to find the "New Post" button. But here I am, back on the horse. Not making any declarations about what a great blogger I am going to be from here on out, but I will say that something inexplicable has been drawing me back to the blogosphere. So here I am. I'm gonna start out easy with a meme that my friend Genny did on her blog because it didn't seem too hard.

So, hi.

Here we go.

50 Questions! From Buzzingfridge.

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?

Please understand that I have been sick as a dog all week so all of my answers are going to reflect that. Without that context you are going to really think there is something seriously wrong with me. The first time I looked at myself in the mirror today was after I took a shower at like 4 this afternoon. And what I thought was "I wish my stomach looked like this all the time and not just when I am recovering from being violently ill."

2. How much cash do you have on you?

I think I have about $20 in my wallet. I try to always have $20, just in case.

3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?

Snore which is what this question makes me do.

4. Favorite planet?

Earth? I haven't had the opportunity to experience any others. 

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?

Blargh now I have to stand up and get my phone. I thought this was going to be easy.
My sister.

6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?

Marimba all the way.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A blue t shirt with kind of rainbow palm trees on it from Target. They sold it as a pajama top but I wear it out all the time. F*ck the police.

8. Do you label yourself?

Yes but many of the labels are conflicting. I will blame that on my Gemini-ness.

9. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?

None. But the last ones I wore were my favorite Keen sandals. But I have not left the house in like 5 days, y'all.

10. Bright or Dark Room?

Bright. Unless it's night time. Then dark.

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?

I love them dearly and I hope they know that.

12. What does your watch look like?

Silver Bulova. Simple and classy.

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?

Lightly sleeping and half listening for the sound of my children getting sick.

14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?

"That will change soon."

15. Where is your nearest 7-11?

Wayyyy down by Target, I believe.

16. What's a word that you say a lot?

Probably "like." Also I make this grumbling sound a LOT which I was not fully aware of until Sophia started to make the same sound whenever she gets exasperated. Now I am aware that I make that noise way way too much.

17. Who told you he/she loved you last?

Sophie, I think.

18. Last furry thing you touched?

Coda the wonder mutt.

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?

Like I said, I've been sick. So too many to mention. On a normal day just my thyroid meds and my pill.

20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?

One, actually. In an underwater camera that I took last summer and never got developed. Because who thinks to take film to get developed these days?

21. Favorite age you have been so far?

Um, I usually like whatever age I am at the moment. I mean, I have liked different things about different ages. Except for like 13-15. Nothing redeeming there comes to mind.

22. Your worst enemy?

I... actually don't have one. I mean, there are some people I dislike to varying degrees, but no real "enemies." As far as I know. 

23. What is your current desktop picture?

A stock solar system pic that came with the computer. I don't even know how to change it.

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?

"Just wanted to be sure you are ok." to Sophia who has been upstairs singing to her stuffed animals since I tucked her in an hour ago.

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?

A million bucks because I could share it.

26. Do you like someone?

Lots of someones!

27. The last song you listened to?

This kid singing the national anthem (really well) before the Heat game.

28. What time of day were you born?

Around 9:30, at night I think but I'm not sure.

29. What’s your favorite number?

I don't have one. But I like to like 13 because I think superstitions are hooey.

30. Where did you live in 1987?

Hmm. Rockford, Michigan, I believe. I think we were in the green house by then.

31. Are you jealous of anyone?

Envious, for sure. Jealous? I don't know. Jealous sounds so ugly. I try not to be. Because the older I get the more I realize that what I perceive what other people have/are is not really superior to what I have and am.

32. Is anyone jealous of you?

I sure hope not.

33. Where were you when 9/11 happened?

Here in Orlando, in my old house with my first husband. I called my dad on the phone and neither one of us could believe what we were seeing. I remember the moment I realized it was not an accident. And I remember being terrified that, long-term, tourism (and my livelihood) would be impacted. And it was, but not as terribly as I thought it would.

34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?

Pout. But usually try again. Because I'm an optimist like that.

35. Do you consider yourself kind?

Generally, yes, very kind. But I have a "mean girl" streak, if in the right company, that I am ashamed of.

36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?

I have one. And I would not get another one I don't think. If I HAD TO, like gun to my head had to? Right on top of my first one, on my left hip. Maybe it would improve it.

37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?

Italian because it's soooo beautiful!

38. Would you move for the person you loved?

Absolutely. I love a fresh start.

39. Are you touchy feely?

I guess so. With my kids for sure, and I am not into PDA but I like holding hands with Dearest when the opportunity presents itself. With friends, not as much.

40. What’s your life motto?

"Bend like a blade of grass to the wind."
But I also like the Humans of New York lady with her "Be kind and thoughtful" platform. Some people make that more difficult than others.

41. Name three things that you have on you at all times?

iPhone, Sophia, Olivia.

Oh, THINGS? iPhone, package of wipes, sunglasses.

42. What’s your favourite town/city?

New York City. No contest. But Florence was pretty kick ass too.

43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?

I don't even know. Maybe something at the Brooklyn Flea?

44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?

Couldn't even tell ya. But we should do that. It's really nice.

45. Can you change the oil on a car?

No.

46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?

Well I kind of have two people I could count as my first love. One was more a first lust. I hear he's sucking at life and that's fine by me. One was my first love, and I hear he's doing good, and that's also fine by me.

47. How far back do you know about your ancestry?

Ooh, I love the ancestry.com, and I went way way far back on my side of the family! We have pretty much been Americans for as long as there was an America. Before that lots of Irish and French.

48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?

P.E.O. meeting, and I wore the dress I bought to wear to Pippin but couldn't on account of the deluge.

49. Does anything hurt on your body right now?

Actually... no.

50. Have you been burned by love?

I'm usually the burner, not the burnee. Which sounds worse than it is. I just mean I am usually the relationship ender. I have been hurt many times, but burned implies something more permanent and scarring. I'm pretty resilient, truthfully.

The Not So Pretty Truth

I am going to be honest.

For me, that can be a bit tough.

Not that I am a bold-faced liar, not by any stretch. I am, in fact, a terrible liar. Like a sitcom-esque, stuttering stammering eye-contact-averting incredibly bad liar.

But there is one think I am pretty good at. And that is painting a rosy picture, even when I don’t feel good about something. Even when the Titanic is sinking in front of me, I TRY oh how I TRY to say (and believe) what a lovely reef it will make for endangered sea life. And how fortunate it is to be sinking in ice-cold water, because did you know that cold water slows you bodily functions, and if you don’t drown or die of hypothermia there is a much better chance that you will survive without brain damage? Thank goodness it’s not sinking in tropical waters!

So, you see.

For me to be frank about something in my life that I’m not proud of is no small deal. And this one is particularly tough, because it’s all on me. Can’t blame my childhood or my spouse or some other issue for it. I’m owning the choices I have made and I am stating them in the hopes that putting them out there will help me to break bad habits.

So here goes…

The truth is- I’m on the Internet WAY too much.

Ooh, you are thinking, big stinking deal, Lindsay. Join the club. The whole world is on the Internet too much.

I’m not going to go so far as to say that it’s an addiction (any more than people watching too much TV is an addiction) but it is certainly a bad habit. Like, a 3-hour-a-day habit. At least. And, you know what? I can do better things with my time. I can scrapbook. I can clean (sheesh, that’s not exactly inspiring). I can sit outside on my patio and write. I can re-connect with Dearest. I can learn how to sew. I can plan activities for the Lovelies and I to do.

So there it is. I think that my “resolution” (I hate resolutions) to be on the internet less will actually lead to more QUALITY internet time, like- get in, look at what I really care about, and get out. Maybe it will even give me something to blog about. Because a blog about someone who folds laundry and surfs the internet in all of her down time is not exactly the most riveting piece of literature ever written. So wouldn’t that be an ironic side effect?

I do have a crutch in my master plan, and that is the fact that my folks are coming to Florida, staying for a month, and have rented a house right down the street from us. So I will have my parents’ shenanigans to keep me occupied and distracted. I think I will make myself a little chart (ooh, maybe with stickers! Ha! Probably not.) and try to keep surfing down to an hour a day. I will let you know how it goes. And I promise to be honest, even if it isn’t pretty.

Well, y'all, we walked again this morning. I think the statistic is that you have to do something for 21 days for it to become a habit. Too bad swimming starts in 2 weeks. Oh well. One day at a time.

Girls are still a little under the weather, Livi is a potty training super star but I'm sticking close to home for now until she is 100% there. I'm hoping that in a week or 2 I will feel brave enough to start taking her out in PANTIES!!!

My mean cat is at the vet, he's suspecting renal failure. She has been really sweet and cuddly lately which is how we knew that something was very very wrong. She has lost a lot of weight in the past year too, and she wasn't really big to start with, so I don't know. Doesn't look good.

In the mornings, the Twincesses like to take a little inventory of where everyone is, and they go through the list of all the people they can think of and talk about or ask where they are. The list changes from day to day, but since my folks' visit they always say "Mimi and Papa in IOWA!!! So COLD!!!" This morning Liv said, "Mimi and Papa in IKEA!!!" I laughed out loud, and pictured my parents waking up in one of those little display bedrooms set up in the Ikea showroom. Well, at least there is a restaurant there. It really wouldn't be a bad place to live. And Olivia certainly loves it.

We Interrupt This Silence With an Actual Blog Post

Ahem. Where were we then? Ah, yes. I was ignoring you. Sorry about that. No excuse really, just chasing the Lovelies and trying to maintain all things non-Lovely. But things are good.

The girls are just EXPLODING with language and, almost overnight, they developed this ability to role-play, which is fascinating to watch. Well, it's fascinating to me at least, to see them rock their baby dolls and play the role of "Mama." What a mirror they hold up, when I hear my words coming out of their little mouths, when Liv stumbles and Soph says, "You okay, Livi? You bump your head? I kiss it?" Or when Liv feeds her doll and I hear her murmuring "Yum, yum, baby. It yummy chicken for you. Careful, baby. No chicken on floor." My favorite are the unsolicited "Bless you" "'Scuse me!" and "I sorry"'s.

So sweet.

But there's a darker side to these two little echos.

And it really bothers me to hear it.

Coda was a really good dog. People were always telling me what a sweet boy he was, and he was super high on our priority list. He was secure. He was loved. He was maybe even a little spoiled.

But things change. Our friends who had dogs that pre-dated their kids warned us: Just wait. Your poor dog will be so low on the ladder you won't even believe it. He will fall completely off the radar. He won't be your baby anymore. He will be so neglected.

It was hard to imagine, before that moment when we crossed the threshold into the house for the first time, carrying two impossibly tiny bundles. But the reality set in. Coda was big. Clumsy. Loud. Hairy. With huge sharp teeth. Our sweet boy was a threat. A menace. Demanding time and energy that we simply did not have.

And if you've watched 60 seconds of The Dog Whisperer, you know how these things go. A dog who is not exercised develops discipline issues. Becomes antsy, underfoot, needy, pent-up. It's not his fault. It's his nature. And this, over time, let to me beg dearest to do SOMETHING. Because it was more than I could stand. I wanted to get rid of the dog.

And the way the kids talk to him, snap at him, is hard to hear. My own harsh words, ones I would NEVER direct at the girls, ones I NEVER wanted them to hear, were thrown at the dog on a daily basis. And I feel a pang of guilt at the lesson I am teaching them, and at how unfair the whole thing is to Coda. I don't want them to think it's okay to be ugly and unkind towards any living thing, no matter what a pain in the ass it is sometimes.

So this morning I decided to make a change. Even though I had 100 excuses not to. Even though the girls are under the weather, and the dog is nearly impossible to get on the leash without knocking me over in his frenzied excitement, even though it's starting to get hot in the mornings and swim lessons start in 2 weeks so it won't be practical to maintain. Today, the girls climbed into their stroller, I grabbed a tennis ball and wrangled Coda on to his leash. And we walked. And I told him what a good boy he is. We went all the way to the open field and I let him run until he couldn't run any more. The girls and I complemented his fetching, and when we got home I let the girls give him a treat and he collapsed into a spent and happy heap under the table.

Not promising I am going to do this every day, but I am taking control over my relationship with this dog. And I think it's going to be better for all of us.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled silence.