November 2011

I debated back and forth about this post, but for the past couple weeks I keep feeling this need to talk about it.  A need for a place to vent.  A place I can reach out to and talk about how things don’t always go as easy as planned.  So, guess what, blog buddies?  You’re it.  My sounding board.  The people who can smack sense back into me.  So put on your smacking gloves.

I may have exaggerated a little in my last post.  About how long we’ve been trying to conceive.  I might have led you to believe a little that it’s been very recent that we decided to start trying for children.  And while, it’s probably considered still recent, it’s been a few more months than that.  We’re on month 6 now and still no go.

Before you start looking at me like I’m crazy and spitting out all the facts (yeah, I know healthy couples can take up to a year), it’s hard for me to understand why it hasn’t happened for us yet.  Do you know when you start trying for kids, everyone around you is all of a sudden miraculously pregnant?  Where’s this water we’re all supposed to be drinking from because the waiter hasn’t come around to my table yet.

It’s absolutely ridiculous for me to worry about.  And the rational side of me, (however small she is), knows this.  But.  The crazy, Google-searching nut job that sounds more like my normal self is starting to worry.  Just a bit.  Maybe losing a little bit of hope each month as I allow myself to get a tad bit hopeful and then…bam.  Back to the drawing board.  Each month I start to feel more worried there may be something wrong.  I’ve done enough Google searching to know we’re not quite falling in the statistics.

Here’s the thing.  I’ve known for a long time that I’m meant to be a mom.  I’m that idiot smiling from ear to ear at your kid’s picture when everyone else is politely nodding.  I’m also that woman who manages to draw on some unseen pool of patience from deep within when it comes to children (however lacking that pool is for my poor husband, sorry Tone).  I daydream about our kid having Tony’s grin and my sense of humor. 

I am bordering on sickness, I know.

And because I want all of this so bad, the self-deprecating part of me convinces myself that it won’t happen for us.  I won’t see a positive on a pregnancy test and I won’t get to waddle around, all fat-belly and make the hubs rub my feet.  It seems surreal.  Like not real life.  Or mine.

All this after 6 months, I know.  Please tell me I’m crazy.  Please tell me that I’m just a control freak that needs to recognize I can’t be in control of everything.  Maybe this is a lesson for me.

There are those of you out there who struggle with fertility and are probably reading this with a smirk.  Writing this is probably a knee jerk reaction to something that will hopefully happen if I learn to wait and put a little trust in the powers that be.  


It’s my worry.  And I’m hoping committing it to paper (or blog, internet-y paper) will help me feel a little better.  Babies and fertility and all that fun stuff is such a taboo topic, I’m going to stick to my over-sharing road.  I just can’t help it.  You knew this when you met me.


I have been avoiding you people.  Just in case you didn’t realize, what with my slackery-ness in the posting-ness department.  (You missed me and my made up words, didn’t you?  Yeah, ya’ did.)

Let’s see here.  My life is exactly the same since I last posted in August.  Nothing notable.  I was not declared Queen of America, because I know you were wondering.  I’m not sure how rumors like these start, but again, to reiterate, not declared queen. 

No new job, no extra cash, not even a bright and shiny new husband.  Pffft.  So much for 2011 being my year.

And because I’ve had absolutely zilch-o-doodly-rino (heeello Flanders!) going on in my life, it has left my free time open to amusing ponderings.  Of which I’ll share with you now.  So here’s what I’ve come up with in my last 2 months of hiatus. 

1.) God-damn, f-ing, shit-tastic start of winter.  This needs no further explanation.  Moving on from “numero uno” before I start seriously considering the idea of buying a couple used heat lamps off eBay and pouring sand on my carpet to mimic the feeling of being on the beach all winter.  Obviously I am an idea-man.  Obviously.

2.) High school students have an extra layer of skin that keeps them immune from temperatures associated with beginning of said season above.   If I see another teenage girl in flip flops and a short sleeve shirt, holding hands with her emo boyfriend as they walk home from school in sleet, I will drive my car up onto the sidewalk.  I will not hit them, no.  But I will lean out the window and give them a stern, disapproving look (with a possible mob-boss style fist shake to make sure they know I’m all business) before backing my car back off the sidewalk and proceeding on my merry way to the grocery store to get those pixie sticks I’ve been craving.

3.) Pregnancy tests are damn expensive until you get smart and just start buying the ghetto ones from the dollar store.  Did you all read that sentence a second time?  Thought so.  Ok, fine, we’ve just started trying to have little Katies and Tonys.  It’s mainly a reaction to my unquenchable need to start a small army of children who will take care of me in the event of an apocolyptic-type catastrophe (we do know I cannot cook, which will only be highlighted further in the event of a nuclear disaster when I’d be forced to cook squirrel carcass off a burning tire), but…they’d also be kinda cute to have around for other reasons and what not.  You know, strictly for vain purposes and bragging rights and all.

Why do I smell fear coming through my computer screen, people?  Procreation and terrible names like Inspektor Gadgett and SparrowBirdHawkEagle shouldn’t just be limited to the royals and celebrities.  Let’s make sure you understand, though.  We’re trying.  We’re not pregnant yet.  No buns a-baking.  No doves a-singing or maids a-milking.  Wait.  Sorry, somehow that got turned into a Christmas carol.

You’ll all be the first to know, though, cool?  Be at the ready for when I text you, all “omg wtf lol bbq.”  That last one was just thrown in to even out the acronyms.  Mmmm…barbecue. 

4.)   You seriously think I have a number four after I dropped the big, ole’ bombshell that Tony and Katie are trying to further disrupt Earth’s natural goodness and balance by unloading genetically modified little monsters upon its green, non-apocolyptic (yet) land? 

Actually I do:  Croutons.  Stale bread or God’s gift to the salad?  Discuss. 

(Holy cow, I’ve had a lot of time for pointless thoughts,  haven’t I?)