Grief

Grumpy's mom passed away the day after I last published here. She was home, she had family with her, and she went as peacefully and painlessly as we could have hoped for under the circumstances. Since then, we've planned and attended/hosted the memorial service, and are working on the business of "getting on with life".

Grump's is hanging in there, but - as anyone who either knows him, or has been through this would know - it's not easy. He's got school to occupy much of his time and energy, and we both have the excitement of looking forward to Lil H's arrival (OMG only 10 weeks left!), but there are always those quiet moments that you have to yourself, where your new reality sneaks up and kicks you in the ass. I've had them with both my Grandfather and my Dad, and now he's having them (as am I, but to an obviously lesser degree) with his mom.

Grieving is hard frickin' work, but there is no option other than to do it.

Cranky McCranky-Pants

First off, all things pregnancy related are still moving along swimmingly. I had a doctor appointment this morning, and Lil H and I are right on track in all measurable categories. I'm being kicked in all kinds of fun places as a regular occurrence, and sometimes I swear the lil sucker is trying to break out through my cervix. It's very strange - very strange indeed!

Now, if you're not interested in reading the ranting lunacy of a grieving, hormonal, bitchy pregnant person, I suggest you just click-click your sweet little self away from this here blog right about now.


K?


Still here?


You're sure you want to do that?


Well, ok then...


But don't say you weren't warned!


As I've discussed many, many, many MANY times here before (seriously, check out the "Prayer Request" label), Grumpy's mom is ill.

She's recently gotten worse.

Much, MUCH worse.

As in, "no other treatment options" and "hospice services" worse. Fortunately, she's home, where she is undoubtedly more comfortable than if she were stuck in the hospital or other facility. Which, in itself, is a blessing. One daughter was in town to see her this past weekend, the other daughter will be in within a couple of weeks. The family is preparing to say good-bye, and left with nothing to do but wait for the end.

And that SUCKS!

If you've never been through it before, let me say that in my opinion, having lived through both types of losses, I would much rather lose a family member suddenly than have to watch them fight and fight and fight, only to lose their battle and waste away to nothing. That's not to suggest that either situation is EASY - not by any stretch of the imagination. But watching someone's will to live be sucked out of their broken but not quite beaten body... It's a torture that I wouldn't wish on anyone, patient or caregivers.

In the midst of all the waiting, we're of course dealing with the personality conflicts that arise during such stressful times. Control-freaks that have no control over the situation their loved one is facing now find themselves grasping for control over whatever situation they are presented with - whether it's appropriate for them to control or not. Battered egos and too-long-held grudges are rearing their ugly heads. Decisions are made and re-made, depending on who feels the need to express their opinions, and whose opinions are deemed worthy of being considered. The family circles the wagons, while managing to throw stones at each other.

Everyone is overwhelmed and nobody has any opportunity to escape, or decompress, even for the tiniest of moments. Because we all know what reality is waiting for us at the end of that teeny, tiny escape... And reality is not any kind of fun right now.

I've never been much of an escapist... I've wished for things to be different, and have made lots and LOTS of plans to get them to change. Hell, I've even followed through on some of those plans. But right now all I want to do is take Grumps and our furkids someplace far, far away where there is no cell service, no wi-fi, no illness or decisions or commitments, where we can just BE for a little while. Quiet - silly - introspective - but most of all, alone. I'm craving quiet, and wanting very badly to circle our own little wagons. I suppose that could be an extension of the nesting instinct - wanting to protect our little family from the cruelties of the outside world. But, this isn't the outside world, and I don't have any choice but to broaden my shoulders, and carry whatever part of this familial load that I am able to carry...

20 weeks!

All seems to be going remarkably well in pregnancy land over here. We had the BIG ultrasound (results of which will be kept private until immediate family is made aware), but the important thing is that it was another showing that our Lil H is doing just lovely in there.

I've been feeling movement consistently for a couple of weeks now. Its - bizarre. Very bizarre in deed. In the best possible bizarro-world way. But, still... bizarre.

I will say that emotionally, altho I don't think I've stepped into the hormonal mood swing insanity too frequently thus far, I do find myself changing, a lot. I'm withdrawing from people, from things. Focusing more on myself, my body, my marriage, our families. I don't think I'm intentionally turning my back on others, but I do know that I'm not putting the work into some of my friendships the way I had in previous months. And sadly, I haven't quite processed how I feel about that yet.

For those of you counting, I'm in my 20th week, so I've hit that halfway point! Yee-haw! (That's what you're supposed to say, right?) Except that I'm suddenly finding myself a wee bit overwhelmed with ALL there is TO DO. The first half of this pregnancy has sailed by quicker than I realized, and now there is all of this talk about nursery colors, and furniture, and registering, and a baby shower, and holy crap I wanna nap!

Someone out there do me a favor and tell me this is normal, mmmkay?

Again?

First things first, since I know I've been HORRIBLE about updating... at 15.5 weeks, everything pregnancy related seems to be moving along swimmingly. Doc is happy, my stomach and appetite are getting there, and my jeans are not. I figure that's about all I can ask for that this point.


I seem to be struggling again. Be it seasonal, situational, or my own fucked-up-edness, the depression seems to have found me. It's incredibly frustrating to be here, in this place that I honestly didn't know that I'd ever get to, and be completely incapable of reveling in it. Hell, I struggle to just enjoy it from time to time.

Family is a mess, finances are ok but I'm not sure for how long, our neighborhood is going to hell and we are absolutely positively completely STUCK in it for at least another 13 months.

But, we're both healthy, Grumps is doing smashingly in school, the bills ARE still getting paid, I am still employed, and HOLY FUCK, I'm PREGNANT for God's sake!

Funk, funk, go away - and don't worry about coming back another day! Please?

10 Weeks?

That's where the calendar says I'm at. 10 weeks pregnant. If that's not the most surreal thing I've ever typed here, I don't know what is.

I'm discovering another problem with my infertility experience. I'm not suggesting this is a problem EVERYONE would encounter. Just one that I am, and I'm struggling with it. So, I figure if I am, someone else may, too. And this whole community thing is supposed to be about sharing experiences and all that, so here goes.

My 5 and a half years of infertility and one BIG, GIANT EFFECT (well, one that is bothering me NOW, anyway), and that is it allowed me to over romanticize the whole notion of pregnancy.

Granted, I did get to take the surprise test, and make the surprise announcements. And, truth be told, that was pretty "sunshine and roses and fairy-tale-esque" (I'm gagging myself, so I'm sorry).

But, in those 65 ish months of trying, of WANTING this, I was able to completely gloss over the possibility that IF I were to get pregnant, perhaps I would be one of those women that pregnancy wouldn't agree with.

And - it turns out - I am.

I'm not violently ill or anything. I'm still able to work (most of the time, a full day, too). I completely and fully recognize that it could be SO. MUCH. WORSE.

I also recognize that I am sounding like one of those ungrateful bitches that we all love to bash, but dammit, its my blog, and I'll whine if I want to.

I guess the best way I can explain my symptoms is that it's like I've been on the verge of some kind of stomach virus.... for 5 weeks now. I'm tired and achey (and whiney!) and nauseated, and feel like I should never ever be more than about 5 steps away from a place that I could "shout groceries" in private. Fortunately there hasn't been a whole lot of actual grocery shouting, but to feel on the verge - all the damn time - is a less than ideal way to live.

Gah... waaaah waaaah bitch bitch moan moan... I'm tired of writing this, I can't imagine how sick you are of reading it.

Preggo-bitch, Out!

A Month(ish) In Review

Lordy Lordy, this last month or so has been crazy! Bare (or is it bear?) with me while I sum up!

My Mom, after a ridiculously UNspectacular fall (she missed the last step on the staircase into the basement) resulting in ridiculously spectacular injuries (7 breaks in 5 bones, including both ankles and a foot), is well on her way to recovery! She's down to 1 plaster cast and 1 cam-walker, has tossed the wheelchair, and is MUCH happier have regained at least a bit of her independence. Mom, her dog, and her cat have been staying with Grandma (the most wheelchair friendly house in the family), and it seems as though they're having a grand ol' time together!

Grandma had another bout with her cellulitis, resulting in a 4 day hospital stay and a 2 week course of at home iv antibiotics. Fortunately, she's also doing much better!

Grump's Mom has been diagnosed with a different, incredibly aggressive, and incredibly rare, form of cancer. She's been hospitalized since Oct 5, and honestly isn't doing very well. BUT, with a smidgen of silver lining in the mix, it looks as though she may be able to come home this week. Grumps has been spending as much time as possible with his Mom, as the doctors have warned us that we're not looking at a possible cure here, they're simply treating what they can in an effort to extend the amount of time she has left. Unfortunately, the unit of measure we're working with here is months....

And, somehow, in the midst of all that craziness, I managed to get pregnant! The old fashioned way! I'm a little over 9 weeks now, and other than "morning" (HA! All day, I say!) sickness, things seem to be progressing just fine. I got Dr confirmation last Thurs, have announced to the immediate family, and now finally felt comfortable putting it out here in to blogland.

And that is where I've been the last month!

Thankful Thursdays

Yes, I know, its been awhile - but.... I'm here now!

This weeks Thankful list:

1. The Grumps made the Dean's List!
2. Mom is settled @ Grandma's with her 2 casted, broken ankles, and seems to be adjusting ok.
3. I've gotten the opportunity to reconnect with an old friend, and now get to call him a good friend!
4. It's fall! Cool breezes, clear blue skies, and pretty soon the leaves will be changing color.
5. Almost soup season!

Anyone need Lessons?

If anyone out there needs lessons on how to help/manage their parents through a medical crisis, I think I'm about to be pretty damned qualified to give them!

My Mom fell on Saturday, in an incredibly spectacular way. She was walking into the basement with a laundry basket, and thought she had reached the bottom step. Unfortunately, she was 1 step up. 2 broken ankles and a broken foot (7 fractures in 5 bones total) + LOTS of ligament damage = surgery today.

She'll be in the hospital for a couple of days, and then staying with family for a while after that. I'll be bouncing between my house, her house, and Grandma's house (where she will be staying).

Prayers for my patience and sanity are always welcome, but are actually NEEDED right now!

Feel the Fur Love!

It's been awhile since you've seen the kittens, so I thought I'd give you a peek!

They will be 6 months tomorrow, and are FREAKING HUGE! Bob, in the blue collar, with his little paw over his sister, is 8.2 lbs. Izzie, in the red collar, is 7.8 lbs.

We've resigned ourselves to being the house with 2 20lb cats.

They're trouble, and crazy energetic, and mischevious, and maddening... but they're sweet, and cuddly, and adorable, and affectionate, and talkative. We're so glad we got them!

That Old Familiar Feeling

It used to be a constant, dull ache that wasn't usually noticed, but never really went away, either. Silly me had gotten almost confident enough to say that for now, I've gotten beyond it.

And then?

Then that stupid bitch that is infertility sucker punched me in the gut.

I was getting our dinner ready on Saturday when there was a knock at the door. It's back to school season, which - at least in our neighborhood - means door-to-door fundraising season. The magazine subscriptions are easy to refuse, and we can usually manage to not "sign up" for anything. But, the Grumps and I both have a sweet tooth, so those overpriced candy bars are hard to say no to, especially when the seller is about the cutest little nervously grinning kid you've ever seen!

So, Grumps opens the door, agrees to buy some candy, and goes in search of singles (those kids NEVER have change, and we DO NOT NEED $20 worth of candy bars, nor are we rolling in it in ways that would allow me to have the kiddo "keep the change"), leaving the front door open enough for the Kaylah girl to wedge her furry little head out to see the kids.

And oh the squeals! of delight! and excitement!

Grumps, being the softy that he is, immediately opens the door so that Kaylah can go visit with her newest fan club members (we actually have kids in the neighborhood that come over to ask if she can come out and play). He then steps outside with her to chat with the mom and 3 kids that are now fighting over "who Kaylah loves the most".

Almost an hour later, he finally makes it back inside with a VERY TIRED PUPPY. And all I could think was that it should be OUR fucking kids that our dog is so excited to play with. Why the FUCK isn't it our kids?

Fucking sucker punch!

Desperately Seeking....

Serenity? Well, kind of, but that's not quite right...

Sanity? Close, but again, not quite right...

Simplicity! Ding ding ding, winner!

This last trip up north solidified it for us. We are not urban, or even suburban, people. We crave the peace and quiet that comes with not being able to see (or hear!) your neighbors, and of being able to tend to a garden without worrying about breaking some bullshit city ordinance. We fit in a place where "going for a walk" means spending an hour travelling the perimeter of your own property, instead of your neighborhood.

It's going to take some time, and planning, and sacrifice. But, we have a definitive goal in mind. In about 16 months, when Grumps has his degree and is fully certified to work anywhere in the state (and many other states, for that matter), we'll be looking for a new area to call home. Not necessarily a new state, but most definitely a new area...

The simple life is good for our souls, and we need to make it our everyday!

Thankful Thursdays

Short, sweet, and to the point:

This week I am thankful that

I AM ON VACATION!

Gone camping with Grumps and the furkids! NO INTERNET ACCESS! Just us, good friends, good food, a few board/card games, some books, a local county fair, and a whole lotta booze!

Back in town on Monday, but may not be back online until Wednesday!

WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Original BFF, Part 2

There was a falling out, and this was a big one. It was over men, of course. She suddenly didn't like the choices I was making, and I was so wrapped up in my choices that I no longer had time for her. I'd like to say that I was torn up about it, inconsolable even, but that would be a lie. I was so wrapped up in the warm fuzzies of new love that I hardly noticed the loss of my best friend.

Years went by without any contact at all. I thought of her occasionally. Hoped she and her (my?) family were well. Got over the hurt and anger of the fight, a fight which ended a multi-year friendship, and of which I can no longer remember the details.

And then, late last year, the inevitable happened. After over 10 years of no contact at all, I ran into her (my?) parents one Sunday morning at breakfast. They recognized me, and called to me before I had noticed them. I immediately ran over to them, big hugs for both, and sat down at their table. We caught up on all the major things in life (marriages, deaths, births (or lack thereof), etc). I didn't have any paper with me, so I found a business card in my wallet, added my personal email, and told them that if H was interested, I'd love to hear from her.

A month or 2 went by without anything. I had almost forgotten the encounter, when a friend request popped up on facebook. It was H. We chatted a few times through FB and email, and quickly made plans to meet for breakfast.

To say I was nervous for that breakfast would be an understatement. I couldn't decide what to wear, and settled on going the "comfort" route, over the "style" route. I woke up 3 hours early. I drank a pot of coffee and smoked a half pack of cigarettes before leaving the house. I drove the mile to the restaurant with my hands shaking and my stomach doing somersaults. I arrived 30 minutes early, got a table, drank another 2 cups of coffee and smoked 3 more cigarettes before she arrived.

She walked over to the table, and I immediately jumped up to hug her. Conversation was slow and awkward to start, but soon fell into our old familiar rhythm. We updated each other on surface things (education, marriage, travel, boyfriends, blah blah blah), and grazed a little more into the meat of some more intense issues (infertility, relationship issues, etc). It felt natural and comfortable, and truly as if we had just picked up where we left off 10 years ago.

When we finally pried ourselves away from the table (almost 3 hours later!) and got into our cars, I headed home with a light heart, and a giant grin on my face. I had found my friend once again. A friend that I realized I had missed terribly over the last 10 years. My long lost sister was back in my life, and I was going to soak up every moment of it.

A few weeks later, the high wore off.

We hadn't gotten together again, as her new semester of school had started, and Grumpy's mom had gotten very very ill. But we chatted regularly via email, and I believe there were even some phone calls in the mix. But something felt, off. Forced, almost.

And than it hit me.

Our friendship hadn't changed, but I had.

I was no longer the giggly school girl wrapped up in boys and reading between the lines of every conversation I ever had. I was no longer interested in impressing people, or "keeping up with the Joneses". I wasn't into the bar scene, or driving downtown to check out the new restaurant, or spending a night in Royal Oak having cocktails and people watching. I wasn't interested in attending internationally themed dinner parties and discussing politics.

Sure, I could do those things on occasion, but they weren't my life. They weren't comfortable for me. That's not who I am. And honestly, that's not who I want to be. I've worked hard to build the life I have, a life centered with my marriage and my home, surrounded with friends and family that I trust and care for deeply, and free from outside drama and unnecessary conflicts.
I like the life I have today, and I'm not willing to alter it to fit a friendship that felt natural, but in reality, I've long outgrown. It feels strange to realize that I've outgrown my Original BFF.

And to be fair, I'm certain that H has outgrown it as well. This is not meant to attack her AT ALL. Simply to illustrate how 2 like-minded little girls can grow up to discover they've become women who not only aren't on the same page about life, but are quite literally in different books.

The Original BFF

I think we all had one... that first person you shared everything with. Bad grades, horrible crushes, silly giggling secrets shared in hushed tones while listening to Journey (I can't be the only one that came of age in the 90s that thought I was OH SO COOL to be listening to "old school Journey", can I? CAN I?).

H wasn't my first best friend, if I'm to be honest. There were childhood friends before her, summers spent at the pool, learning to smoke behind the school administration building in the park between our houses, games of tag with the neighborhood kids. But H was the first one that really mattered, that really stuck.

We met on our first day at Jr High, and were completely inseparable from that point on. We learned to drive together, we drank for the first time together, we got our first jobs together. We shared and swapped boyfriends, we shopped, we giggled and gossipped and played Ouija and pretended to be psychiatrists. We did our homework and studied for exams at the little table in her kitchen. I think I spent almost as many nights sleeping on her bedroom floor as I did in my own bed. She was the sister I never had.

There were times in high school where are interests parted. She always had a flair for drama and creative writing, and I was always the logical straight-thinker. I took 4 years of Italian while she struggled through 1 semester of French simply to meet the requirement. She took drama and creative writing, and together we took Gothic Literature (this time only so that I could meet the 1 semester requirement).

We hit our junior year, and things started to change. I fell into a steady relationship (awww, first love!), and she spent much of her free time working with the drama department. Weeks went by without phone calls between us (remember, this was in the days before email). Months went by without me waking up on her floor to the sound of her younger brother fighting with her (and my emotionally adopted) parents.

During those last two years of high school, we never really had a falling out. Our lives changed, and we each pursued more and more activities that held no interest for the other.

And then life changed for both of us, and we rushed back to each other's worlds. We spent the summer after graduation almost inseparable once again. Most nights I could be found sleeping on her floor, most days she was occupying the shotgun seat in my sad little Mercury Lynx as we gallivanted around town our went off to our respective jobs.

In December of 1996, I met Grumps. My world was turned upside down almost instantly. Those nights spent on her floor were swapped with evenings falling asleep in his arms, setting the alarm to insure I had barely enough time to make it home before curfew. Days spent giggling and chatting with H were replaced by days with Grumpy, seeing movies, having dinner, getting to know each other.

H was still a good friend, still the best friend I had, and was most definitely by my side as I made the gradual move from my childhood house to my home with Grumps. We all spent a good amount of time together. We rang in 1997 at a memory filled party at Grumpy's house. H started dating one of Grump's friends. Game nights and underage drinking and double dates became the new normal.

And then everything changed.

To be continued

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

I look around at my life today, and it's completely different from what it was a year ago. And I know there are many, MANY more major changes to come in the next 18-24 months.

My marriage is better, stronger, happier than it's been in a while. It's not perfect (I'm not a believer in perfection anyway!), but it's good. Genuinely good.

Our house, our health, our conversations, our connection - have all improved to levels that we weren't striving for, and yet we've somehow managed to achieve. It's like I woke up one morning, looked around, and realized that I LIKE my life. Again, it's not perfect (ahem - children!) but it's really, really good!

Grumps is happier with his career life than I've ever seen him. Obviously he's not actually in the career yet, but the fact that he's pursuing it, and preparing for it - has brought about a light in him that I've never seen before.

I'll be honest and say that I'm nervous for the changes that are coming. 2 years from now will bring a new career for him, a new lifestyle for us, and quite possibly a move to a completely new part of the country. I live in the same city that I grew up in, and that my mother grew up in. We bought our house from Grumpy's grandma, and it's the house his Dad grew up in. We have roots here, and they run deep.

But, changes that normally would - and possibly should - terrify me, are only making me nervous. Because right now, I know that no matter what life throws at us, or what decisions lie ahead, Grumps and I will be getting through it together, working towards a common goal.

That knowledge has brought me more peace than I have ever known.

Thankful Thursdays

so I missed last week, but I'm back at it again! This week, I'm thankful:

1. That the patch seems to be working for me. I'm not a non-smoker yet, but I'm much MUCH closer than I've been in a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG time!
2. That Grumps and I are really and truly, for the first time since we've known each other, completely on the same page about our finances. It's wonderful to have a real partner in the fight to clean up our mess.
3. That our ghetto neighbors gave up one of their dogs (the fence-jumping, dog-aggressive pit-bull). That puts them at 4, which is still double the limit allowable in our city. But, it's progress!
4. That the horrible charity event that Grumps gets suckered into (and I resent) every freaking year is OVER!
5. That I can truly enjoy the peace and quiet of our drama-free life. And that we've BOTH worked SO STINKING HARD to get it, that we both really do appreciate it!

Have any thanks to share? Please do so in the comments!

Picture This

You've lived in your new home for a few weeks now. You're finally unpacked and settled in. It's summertime, the weather is gorgeous, and you decide to throw yourself a housewarming party.

You cut the grass, plant some flowers, and buy a screened in gazebo for the yard. You get the charcoal heating up on the barbecue, the beer chillin' in the cooler, and the ribs marinating in the sauce.

You've invited all of your family, and your friends from the old neighborhood. You've made your sons drag out their stereo system, and have your favorite motown cds stacked along side it. Your daughter has even harassed you into FINALLY learning the hussle.

People begin to arrive. Tunes are playing, folks are laughing and eating and dancing and having a great time.

Don't you think, at some point, it would have dawned on you to take the laundry in from the clothesline you strung between your 2 sheds?

Apparently not, if you live next door to me.

Ghetto Livin'

When we moved into our house (almost 13 years ago!), it was a little bungalow in a quiet, well-kept, working class, family neighborhood. Today, it's still a little bungalow. Unfortunately, that's about the only similarity.

The house across the street has sold 4 times, and is now rented by a mother, her 3 grown sons, a minor son, and a grandson (whose mother is clearly not involved). All 3 of the grown sons have criminal records, and at least one of them is currently wearing a tether. We can sit on our front porch in the evenings and watch them selling - and using - drugs.

There is a house down the street with a mother and her 2 sons. They've been in the neighborhood as long as we have. The sons went from 2 cute little boys, to 2 obnoxious teens, to 2 law-breaking drug-dealing tether-wearing young adults in the 13 years we've known them.

Our new neighbors, recent purchasers of a foreclosed house that 5 years ago sold for 8 times what they just bought it for, seem to "take the cake". From what I can tell, a woman in her early 60s lives there with her adult daughter, 2 adult sons, a grandson, 5 dogs (all aggressive breeds that are poorly socialized), at least 4 cats, 2 birds, and some fish (in a 900 sq ft house). Nobody works. The police have been to our block more in the 3 months since they moved in than they had in the 3 years prior to that. Animal control has been called for the violation of our city ordinance regarding the number of pets. The mother brags about the county bringing them food, and rent-a-center drops off a flat screen tv (all in the same weekend).

Our doorbell rang at 12:37 this morning. The police were next door, and apparently telling the older of the 2 sons that he had to leave. I have no idea what brought about this fight, and honestly - I don't care. What infuriates me is that he showed up to ask Grumps to help him PUSH HIS GHETTO CRUISER CAR the 6 or 8 blocks to the place he was going to stay for the night.

WHAT?

Who does that?

Who thinks its ok to bother their neighbors for that, ever?

Who rings doorbells at that time of the night, unless someone is seriously injured, or something is on fire?

What?

The?

Fuck?

Counting down the days til Grumps graduates, and praying that he gets a job offer that forces us to relocate.

Thankful Thursday

Yep, it's Thursday again! This week I'm thankful:

1. That I get a 3 day weekend!
2. That I get to see a cousin from out of town (that I see far too little) on Saturday!
3. That I'll have the house to myself this evening (well, plus the animals... and from what Grumps has told me, the kittens are CUH-RAZY today!).
4. That Grumps is STILL holding his 4.0!
5. And that I am less than a month away from a long weekend of camping up north with our friends!

Share some thanks right down there in the comments, would ya?

Defining

I've been thinking a lot lately about my infertility, my blog, my place in this community. I feel like I don't really have a place in the community right now. (And Lori, before you tell me to draw a bigger circle - keep reading!)

If you're one of the few that has been following me regularly for the last year or so, you'll agree that very little I have written about in that time has dealt at all with infertility. It's not that I'm suddenly no longer infertile, it's that infertility isn't taking up the prime real estate in my life that it has in the past.

I still want kids. I still don't have them. And I will likely still need some form of intervention (medical or legal (adoption)) if I am ever to parent. So, by any definition, I am still eligible to wear the label. And I do still wear it. It's just that - well - it's not front and center lately.

That's not by design. Believe me, I wish I had that strength. It's just that the last year has brought about some other major life changes, and the journey to parenthood has simply been forced down on the list.

I've watched many many of the blogs I started following as IF blogs become pregnancy blogs and parenting blogs. I've seen many people in my real life and my computer life have 1, 2 or even 3 children in the time since the Grumps and I started trying for our first. I support those blogs, and those friends, and I love those babies. But if I spend too much time focused on the reality of where I am in comparison - that shit hurts!

Am I still an infertility blogger? Yep. You just might have to search through some of my archives to find it. There's stuff in there about charting and surgeries and Lupron and HSGs and whatever else I may have actually documented. But, I'm also more than - and less than - and other than - an infertility blogger. This blog and community walked with me as I stumbled through caring for and losing my father, and as I've set new goals for myself and my family, and as we've lost beloved pets and added crazy new pets to our little zoo.

I'm still around, and I intend to stay around. Just know that if you're checking in to find out where I am in my cycles, or what comes next in my procedure schedule... well, the truth is that your guess is as good as mine.