Red Pillow

I came home with this pillow from World Market like 5 months ago. My husband and I love greens and yellows, so our entire house is decorated in greens and yellows. But I've already decided, the nursery will be blues and reds and oranges, for boy or girl. So I just HAD to buy this pillow. Because it's red and whimsical. And it's gender-neutral. Right?

Olivia, Lanie and Claire

It wasn't exactly the miracle I was hoping for, but still a miracle of sorts. I started my period last Thursday, only three days late.

My husband wasn't sure how to respond when I sent him an email announcing her arrival. I'm usually on the verge of a major break-down when she comes, and my husband goes around the house hiding all sharp objects. But this time it was different because I knew she was coming. I knew that I didn't ovulate, and despite a case of sore boobs, I knew she'd show up eventually. I just didn't know when.

You see, my period has multiple personalities. Some months, she's Olivia with OCD, who shows up on cycle day 31. ALWAYS 31. Not day 30, not day 32. Day 31. 

But then, some months she's lazy Lanie, and she shows up whenever she stops hitting the 'snooze' button and manages to roll out of bed. This can take 43 days or longer. Once, it took her 57 days. Yes, FIFTY-SEVEN DAYS before she finally appeared with her hair all askew and a smudge of dried toothpaste on the corner of her mouth. 

When Olivia didn't show last week, I assumed I'd be waiting on Lanie. This was especially frustrating because I couldn't begin Clomid round two until SOMEONE had shown up. So you can imagine my surprise and delight when Claire appeared out of nowhere, on cycle day 34. My period never comes on day 34. It's always day 31, or day 43 and beyond. But then Claire shows up, fashionably late.

Now I'm no expert, but I think I might be able to thank Clomid for introducing me to Claire. My OB did tell me that Clomid could help to regulate my period. I knew I didn't ovulate though, and if I understand it, ovulation goes along with menstruation. Because I didn't ovulate, I expected Lanie. But I'll take Claire. I can handle Claire. 

And maybe one day, it will just be Olivia and I. 

Thinking about giving the soldiers a pep talk.

Sore Boobs

I have a friend who was diagnosed with PCOS and wacky hormones, and the doctors told her that she'd likely not get pregnant on her own. Then, while doing blood work for all of the tests she was going to have, she wound up pregnant and the baby is due in January.

Miracles do happen.

The blood work says I didn't ovulate this cycle. When I found out, I cried because I took that to mean that I was not pregnant, period (pun intended). I've already added another notch to the month-count and I've been waiting for "you-know-who" to rear her bloody head (again, pun intended). But last night, I noticed that my boobs were sore. And they were still sore this morning. They're still sore now. Like, REALLY sore. Like, when I walk down the hall to the bathroom to examine another piece of toilet paper, my boobs kinda hurt.

Now I know, I know. Sore boobs can mean that "you-know-who" is coming. But they can also indicate pregnancy. And I know, I know, I didn't ovulate.

But miracles do happen.

Hello, I'm Johnny Cash

In case you haven't already figured it out, I really, REALLY want a little girl. If we have four little girls, I'll be perfectly happy, but if I'm destined to birth only boys, I'll adopt a daughter. I'm totally serious. My husband and I have always thought we'd like to adopt one day, so getting my girl wouldn't be the only reason that we'd adopt. But I really want a girl. Have I mentioned that?

I have to face the facts though. There is a 50/50 chance that I'll have a little boy first. And even though everyone knows that there are always more clothes for girls than boys (and the girls clothes are usually cuter) I will make it my mission to find the most rockin awesome duds for my little man. Like these Johnny Cash onesies from My Baby Rocks. Like me, my husband loves some classic Cash, so I know he will totally dig these.  

 

Crush

Is this not the cutest outfit you've ever seen? Right down to the ADORABLE moccasins and I LOVE the little belt. I suppose I should look at clothes for boys too, but they're never as cute as this. And by the way, this little model is precious. 

Outfit brought to you from J. Crew Crew Cuts.

Making Room for Baby

I told you about my recent IKEA experience, and all of our home decor and furniture purchases, but I didn't tell you that I've also been doing the annual clear-out of all things unworn, unused, unnecessary and unwanted. I get this from my mom, who will randomly decide to go through the entire house, bag up everything she can get her little hands on, and drop it all off at Goodwill. I learned this behavior from her, on top of the OCD I inherited from my father.

On a side note, my mom is also a deal-hunter. She LOVES a good deal. So when she happens upon a sale on soap for 10 for $10, she has to buy 20. And when she finds a great candle holder on sale for $4, she'll buy it. And that new belt? On sale. AND SHE HAD A COUPON. I don't think my mom has ever bought anything full-price. And because sales and coupons tend to encourage you to buy more than you need, she ends up with stock-piles of hand lotion. And then when she gets in a clear-out mood, she gives it all away to a local charity. But hey, someone with really dry hands couldn't have afforded that hand lotion otherwise. (I love you, mom.)

Back to the point.

Most of the time, I can handle some clutter. But it ALWAYS must be organized clutter. And yes, there's a difference. So organized clutter is okay, but dirty is not. And what I have found is that you can only organize your clutter for so long before it starts to get dirty. And then you start to feel suffocated, like that pile of papers to file and all those old clothes are going to rise up and block out the sun and strangle you TO DEATH. That's when the switch flips and I have to throw away, give away and donate anything that I have not used in the past three months. If I haven't used it, I obviously don't need it. No reason to keep it in some box in some corner of the closet. GET RID OF IT. It's really a cathartic experience. You should try it some time.

On another side note, if my parents are reading this, they are either scratching their heads in wonderment, rolling their eyes, or rolling on the floor laughing. You see, I didn't actually develop these habits until after I had moved out and into my own home. When I lived with my parents, I was a totally different person. That was in my 'I have to try on my whole wardrobe to find something to wear, and then leave all of the rejected clothes on the floor' days. Back when I didn't care if I left water and toothpaste all over the sink in the bathroom. But now, now it's MY bathroom, so DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT WALKING AWAY WITHOUT CLEANING OFF THE SINK.

The real point of my story is that along with the urge to de-clutter, I had the additional incentive to clear out the nursery. It's been an office for two years, but we've always called it The Nursery because we've always known that one day, that's where the crib will go. The room next to ours. And although we aren't pregnant yet, when I do get pregnant, I'm sure I'll be much too tired and nauseated and hot to be de-cluttering and organizing. So I decided to get it done early (I like to be ahead of schedule) and move everything "non-baby" out, and everything "baby" in. So now I have a real place to put all of the toys and books and baby accessories that I have acquired prematurely. The closet is now empty of all the winter coats, and little white hangers hang there instead.

Now all we need is a baby.

Hush a Bye Baby

I love these slings from Serena & Lily, especially the green one.

Thanks for the tip, friend.

The Fertility Diet

I'm starting this new thing, the Fertility Diet. I've been on a number of diets over the years, the South Beach Diet, the Atkins Diet, low-carb, low-fat, low-calorie and low-sugar diets. I've counted calories and lived at the gym, but here I am, 30 pounds heavier than I was two years ago, and not exactly happy with my weight.

I'm still in the "healthy" BMI range, whatever that means. I read an article once that said Beyonce was probably in the "overweight" category, but we all know she looks good, so I'm not sure if we can really count on the standard body mass index. All I know is that my clothes are too tight and I don't have a great relationship with food. And I want to have a baby.

My situation is this, I'd like to lose weight, but I want to be healthy too, because I don't want to hinder my fertility. I want to enhance my fertility. My primary goal should be, and is, conception. If I could lose a little weight in the meantime, that would be nice too.

So here's what I've decided. I'm going to follow a few simple guidelines found here and here, for eating to enhance fertility, get at least 30 minutes of light exercise, 3-5 times per week, shoot for 1500 calories a day, and see what happens.

Starting weight: 149.2
Goal: one of these --

Our Trip to IKEA

Two weekends ago, my husband and I drove 114 miles to the closest IKEA to buy some sort of TV stand, and whatever else we saw that we couldn't live without. We've been in our house for two and a half years now, and our TV had been sitting on a chair and then a side table, because I hadn't found the perfect TV stand. Oh, and I still hadn't hung the mirror I bought four years ago, and we were using Corelle dinnerware because I could never decide on dishes I liked.

Maybe it takes me two years to make a decision, or maybe I'm just trying to keep my mind occupied, but I was finally ready to commit to a TV stand. I was going to leave IKEA with a TV stand and some much needed home decor items, even if it took us all day. And for those of you who have never been to IKEA, they do serve breakfast, lunch, and dinner. So a 12-hour shopping trip is not out of the question. In fact, ladies, if you're having a hard time convincing your husband to join you at IKEA, and if he loves a good deal as my husband does, just tell him about the breakfast. For $.99 you get bacon, eggs, and breakfast potatoes. And before 10am, FREE COFFEE. For another $1, you can add 3 french toast sticks. And for another $.99 you can have a cinnamon roll. Not only is this food cheap, but it actually tastes good too. So my husband has decided if they ever open an IKEA within 20 miles of our home, we'll eat breakfast there every Saturday. And wouldn't you?

Okay, where was I? IKEA, right, and my decision to actually buy something. And let me tell you, I took that decision VERY seriously. Three hours and $600 later, we had a TV stand, an extra side table, a leather chair, six picture frames, two shelves, a lamp, and a variety of other knick knacks that were too cheap and awesome to pass up. I figured there was room in our four-door sedan for our purchases, but as for me, I was walking home.

We hauled it all out to our car and loaded up the trunk with the TV stand, side table, six picture frames, two shelves, lamp, and knick knacks. But we still had the leather chair to fit in there somehow. First, we tried getting it in the back seat, the front passenger seat, the driver seat. Then, we moved everything out of the trunk and tried to wedge it in there, on it's side, standing up, upside down, diagonally. It wasn't working. We could not get that leather chair to fit into our car.

If we weren't 114 miles from our friends and family, I'm sure someone would have come with a truck or van to pick up the chair for us. But, we were 114 miles away and no one loves us that much. We also thought about strapping the chair to the roof, but I wasn't crazy about that idea. I could already see the news report: "23-car pileup caused by flying leather IKEA chair." So, we did the only sensible thing, we returned the chair.

Let's be honest, although it was a great chair, it wasn't really on the list of things we actually need. I'm hoping that one day, we'll actually need to spend that money on a crib. Like this one, from IKEA. Or this one, also from IKEA. And I also like this one, which is not from IKEA, and about a gajillion dollars. But think of the money we saved when we didn't buy that leather chair.

The gajillion dollar crib:

just give up? sure, right

Last month, I took Clomid to stimulate ovulation, and I thought I had ovulated. But this morning I called the lab to get the results of my blood work, and I learned that I did not, in fact, ovulate. Which means, I'm not pregnant. So this month, the anguish and tears and disappointment come even before my period starts. I suppose this way is better though, because I can get over my preconception hypochondriasis early, and I'll be prepared when "Aunt Flow" comes to visit. This month, I'm expecting her. AND SHE BETTER SHOW UP ON TIME. DO YOU HEAR ME, AUNT FLOW??

I called my mom to tell her the news, and she told me - again - that I need to "give up" and it will happen. I know she means well, and I appreciate that she is trying to encourage me, I really do. But when she tells me that I need to give up and stop worrying, and it will happen, that implies that by thinking and trying, I'm the problem. It's me, my brain and my obsessive tendencies that are preventing pregnancy. I'm at fault.

I would argue that my body is not cooperating. I am not ovulating, and that is a problem. And if my brain really is causing this noncooperation, I still don't want to hear it. I mean, how am I supposed to just "give up"? I can't give up. Not now.

God, why are you doing this to me? Why must I wait?

My Elevator Pitch

Just the other day, I twittered about a co-worker asking if we were going to have kiddos soon:



I'm getting this question a lot more these days, now that my husband and I are nearing our second wedding anniversary, and since my husband's brother and his wife have already reproduced. When a close friend or family member asks, I usually cave and confess that we are already trying, have been for X months, and are working with a doctor to help the process. With some, this shuts them up real quick. Others are concerned, ask a few questions, and offer a few encouraging words.

But when a co-worker or a casual acquaintance asks, I usually have no earthly clue how to respond. If I say something like, "we'll have kids one day," or "just not yet," they'll think that we're not ready, that we're too attached to sleeping and wearing clothes that aren't stained with spit-up and drool. And I feel like I need to justify my childlessness and admit that I want a baby more than I want anything else in the entire world. And I've been charting my temperature and monitoring my cervical fluid and taking Clomid and having lots of unprotected sex. Of course I don't actually say that. No, that would be known as WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION. I usually just smile and say something about someday. (You know, someday, when I ovulate and there are sperm present, just waiting to fertilize my egg.)

I was listening to a Conceive podcast today, and Kristen Magnacca was talking about having an "elevator speech," something ready to say if someone asks when you're having kids. WHAT A FABULOUS IDEA. She had a couple suggestions, but I've come up with my own. Here's how it goes:

Co-worker: So, when are you going to have kids?
Me: We're waiting for the next year of the rooster.