Thursday, March 31, 2011

My New Digs

Sleeping alone really sucks.  Especially on an air mattress.  I've got a memory foam topper thing to help make it a little more comfortable though.  So here's my room in my parents' house.

It's cozy.  Except I can't get the little heater to work right, so I'm either freezing or sweating my ass off all night.  We're about to have a little talk about how tonight's gonna go down.  My mom collects all things Santa Claus, and this room houses quite a few of them.  I like them though.

The cat settled in just fine and seems to like the room too.

My parents have both been so fantastic to me and are really helping a lot.  I'm still kind of a wreck, but I got some antidepressants from wonderful lady doctor last week and I think they're starting to kick in. 

All I think about is the husband.  All I dream about is him.  I miss him so much.  It was so hard not to touch him, kiss him, cuddle close to him at night when I was briefly back in MS.  At one point he was sitting at the computer and all I wanted to do was lean over from behind, wrap my arms around him and kiss his neck.  But I couldn't.  Our last kiss was when he left for work the morning I left for NC the first time.  Will I ever get to kiss him again?

I see all sorts of places here that meant something to us... the gas station parking lot I pulled into so I didn't crash while we had one of our first long phone conversations, the condos still in construction that we snuck into at night to look out at the water and almost kissed on the top floor, the picnic table in the park we were sitting at when he first kissed me, the coffee shop we used to go to and usually shared a grande, the ice cream shop he took me to for my birthday then bought me a "Life is Good" sticker at a little shop down the block, the old mansion we wanted to get married in at Christmastime... so many places with so many wonderful memories.  I wish he was here to see them all with me.  But more than that I wish I was there with him to share our lives together again.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Absence... heart... fonder?

If I weren't terrified to drive anything bigger than my Corolla I could be a fantastic trucker.  In the past two weeks I have driven over 2,500 miles, covering the distance between my home in MS and my parents' house in NC three times.  Each trip seemed to pass by a little faster than the previous one.  I bet I could even do it without the GPS now.  I did get a little distracted and missed an exit today, but that only happened once and only added about twenty minutes to the drive, so we'll overlook it.  So, why all the monotonous traveling?

The husband and I are now separated.

I can't believe I just typed that.  We're separated.  Separated.  I'm still in shock and partial denial.  He said he needs to be alone, and I'm now trying to respect his wishes but it's been the hardest thing I've ever had to do.  It hurts like nothing I've experienced before.  I forget how to breathe sometimes.  I feel like I'm in the middle of a terribly bad dream and can't wake up.  It's so surreal still.  When I first wake up in the mornings I'm blissfully unaware and content for about ten seconds, then I remember all that's happened and I can feel a wave of it all wash over my whole body starting at the top of my head and working its way down, tying my stomach all in knots for the rest of the day.  I look forward to those first ten seconds every day.

I stayed with a friend the other night to break up the drive and we were looking at pictures from when we were growing up.  I forgot about absolutely everything other than our childhood memories for about an hour or so.  When we were finished around midnight the first thought that came to mind was that I wanted to call the husband to tell him I love him and wish him goodnight.  Then I remembered that I couldn't.

I miss my best friend.  I miss my house.  I miss my dogs.

The cat and I are now living with my parents for a few months.  The husband did agree to reevaluate after a few months of being apart and us both getting therapy.  All I can do now is work on me and hold on to hope that he'll want to work on us down the road.

More later... it's been a long trip.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

I'm Blue


All I want to do is eat chocolate chip muffins.

I'm a big ol downer in all of my buddy groups lately.  I wouldn't want to talk to me.

I wrote my response letter to my estranged father yesterday.  I told him to call me whenever he wants, and I'm pretty sure he will, and I don't know how I feel about that.

I've been trying to put a lot into Endometriosis Awareness Month, and so all I think about is the status of my insides.  I keep wondering if we'll be able to have children.  I know we're still early in the journey, but my mind keeps going to worst possible situations.  I have this recurring nightmare daydream where I go in for a lap and wake up with no uterus.  Totally not logical, but I keep freaking out about it.

I'm nervous about the results of the progesterone test I had yesterday.  I'm sure it'll come back fine, but again, nightmare daydream that it shows I didn't ovulate and the doctor orders a lap because she thinks my ovaries are damaged.

What if I really do end up needing to have a lap?  It's the price of a freakin new car... how would we ever be able to do that?

Geez... why do you read my blog lately?  I mean really, what a wet blanket.  Thanks for sticking around if you actually do.  It'll get a little more positive again soon hopefully.

Monday, March 14, 2011

My Perfectly Boring Yesterday

The weekend ended a lot better than it began.  Yesterday was damn near perfect.  It started with sleeping in and waking up to loving puppy kisses.  How could that not mean it would be a great day?  The husband and I lazed around for a bit, and when the roommate awoke we all went to the grocery store to get the necessary items for the chicken wing feast they'd been planning.  We walked out of the store with about 50 wings and three bags of chips.

Once home, the boys started the marinating process then disappeared into the man cave (roommate's room) for beer and football on the Xbox.  I called up the parents and returned some emails.  Very relaxing.  After they each won a game it was time to cook, which meant time for the house to get totally smoked out.  Once the wings were done and the smoke had cleared, we enjoyed traditional buffalo, honey mint, dijon habaƱero and fish sauce wings.  Sounds disgusting, but the fish sauce ones were the best!  

After the meal we watched a movie then spent the remaining daylight hours in the back yard playing horseshoes.  I kicked ass.  When we could no longer see and didn't want to risk beaning each other or the dogs, we headed inside for Wii bowling.  We spent the rest of the night talking and watching the Food Network.  It all ended when we refused to let the drunk roommate drive to Taco Bell and he went to bed.  The husband and I watched Anne Burrell win her episode of Chopped and turned in ourselves.

And that was my fantastic day.  It may sound a little boring, but it was just what I needed.

Today I went to wonderful lady doctor's office and got my 7DPO blood work done.  I was in and out in about ten minutes.  Lots of preggo bellies all around, but luckily I didn't have to see them for long.  They said I should get a call with the results, but to call them in a week if I hadn't heard anything.  That seems a little long, right?

Saturday, March 12, 2011

I want a cigarette...

...really bad.  Like really, really bad.

This past week I've been a major Debbie Downer here, and I'm about to be again.  I've been sad and angry because we weren't able to take advantage of our first Clomid cycle and have to wait a whole month to try again.  Yesterday the husband and I had a talk about it and we may not be on the same page TTC-wise anymore.  He's worried about our finances again, which is understandable.  He's felt a lot of pressure being the sole breadwinner, and he's not sure now's the time.

The mistake I was referring to in the last post was never getting a job when we moved here.  I tried, but not as hard as I could have.  Every time I attempted to my anxiety would take over and I would fail miserably.  It was humiliating.  Eventually it got the better of me and I just stopped because we were getting by, but we'd be a lot better off now if I'd been able to.  All I can do is try again when we decide where we're moving to in May and pray that I can hold it together.  I feel so weak and like a pathetic excuse for an adult sometimes.

We've got about two weeks before I would take the next round of Clomid, so we're going to think about it for awhile and make a decision then.  I hate the idea of stopping all together, so I suggested the NTNP approach.  I guess we'll see.

I was feeling better this morning and ready to write a happy blog post, but then I got a letter in the mail from my father.  I grew up knowing nothing about him and first met him a few years ago.  I've only been face to face with the man twice since then and haven't talked to him in over two years now.  Our conversations back then started out good but got shorter and shorter with every call.  Each time we hung up he said he'd call again soon, but he usually never did, and eventually I just stopped calling.

In the letter he said that not long after the last time I saw him he was in a bad accident.  He was hurt and had several surgeries.  He was out of work so long he was fired and hasn't been able to find anything since.  From the sounds of it he slipped into a depression and is just now starting to find his way out of it.  He apologized for not staying in contact and is scared that he disappointed me.  He wants me to call or write or even stop by to see him.  I don't know what to do.  I would call, but it's always awkward and I can barely understand half the things he says... he's got a very thick Southern accent.  He lives ten hours away, and I'll be driving through there next month on my way home to see my eastern NC peeps, but I don't know if that would be the best thing.  I think I'll write for now.  I've always been better at that anyway.

He ended his letter with "Love, Your Daddy".  I never got to call anyone Daddy and I cry every time I see those words written from or referring to him.  That's not his fault though.  He didn't even know I was his until I first found out about him and sought him out three years ago.  He'd suspected, but wasn't completely sure.  He's a kind man who has been a wonderful father to his other three children, and I wish I'd had the opportunity to know him as I was growing up.

So why am I scared to talk to him now?


I've made so many mistakes in my life.  This one is far from the worst, but right now it's causing the most problems and I don't know what to do with it.  I've been hiding and hoping the worst would pass me by.  I truly thought it had, but I was wrong.  I don't know where to go from here.

Every possible step scares the hell out of me.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities."

One of my best friends messaged me yesterday.

"Had a dream that you were pregnant with a little girl and then all of a sudden she was about 4 and so smart, and beautiful...her name was Lynnea (lynn-A-ah).  She looked so much more like you, but she did have his "I'm-being-sneaky-and-cute-so-if-I-do-something-bad-you-know-you-will-forgive-me" smile (that little corner of the mouth half-smile thing he does)."

I almost started crying.  And of course last night I had to dream I was pregnant too.  I dreamt of finally seeing that second pink line and feeling completely taken off guard because I was so certain the cycle had been a bust.  I remember wondering what I was supposed to do next and asked if I should get a beta test done.  I was so happy in that dream and so crushed when I woke up.

It reminded me of a dream I had a few months ago before we ended our TTC break.  It was simply of a little girl in my arms, sleeping and so beautiful.  She was perfect.  I want her (or a him!) so badly.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

It had to be today...

Another freakin pregnancy announcement?!?!  Adding insult to injury just a little bit, don't ya think?  I only met the girl once, but follow her blog daily, so I feel like I kinda know her even though I totally don't.  And there's new baby pictures and pregnancy updates slathered all over Facebook.  I think I've blocked all but one chick who I know had a hard time getting pregnant.  I almost did hit that little X next to her name the other day though... she's been complaining about pregnancy woes, which is understandable, but it makes me mad that she's not enjoying and embracing every single discomfort she's having because it did take her awhile so should appreciate it more.  Completely irrational of me, I know, but when I get pregnant I'm not going complain about any of it on Facebook or to anyone, hopefully.  Maybe to the husband a little, but that's expected, right?

Monday, March 7, 2011

Maybe next month...

I was looking forward to this two week wait.  The first 2ww in six months.  I got excited at the thought of it being all I could do not to start testing at 7 DPO.  ...of staring at nonexistent, but potential lines.  ...of turning down that glass of wine.  I was really looking forward to being all hopeful for two weeks and wondering if every little twinge I felt could be because a tiny little one was being created and starting to grow.  Even though I would know that every "symptom" I felt was probably due to the Clomid, deep, deep down I would have hope.  I will still have those symptoms these next two weeks if the Clomid so chooses, but I know there's no baby in there causing them. 

I'm probably 1 DPO today.  Thirteen more days to go.

Thursday, March 3, 2011


I learned recently that people really will steal packages out of your mailbox.  It seems so stupid... they have no idea what's in them... why would they bother?  The other morning we had two packages delivered to our mailbox (which is at the top of the hill alongside nine other mailboxes).  The husband saw them in there as he was going to work and left them because he didn't want them sitting in the hot car all day.  So he went to retrieve them when he was coming home from work, but lo and behold, they were gone!

We checked with the post office on the rare chance that they'd have them, but no.  So I taped a nice little note to our mailbox.

It's not supposed to be "whomever", is it?  I doubt the thief would know the difference.  Either way, I hope they enjoy the fertility vitamins and Mary Kay acne treatment cream.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Stamp Out Endometriosis

Thought this was pretty cool... it's a petition to create a US Postal Service stamp with the ERC Endo Angels honoring girls and women with endometriosis and to raise national awareness for the disease.  You can sign it here.