Corn mazes: They’re one of my favorite parts of Fall. Even though most of them feel a tad gyppy rip-offish and my husband Lloyd and I are notoriously horrible at them. It’s our annual tradition. The sweet smell of corn. The sweet sound of wives yelling at the back of their husbands’ heads: “Will you wave the damn flag already and get us out of here?!” Every year we go to the same corn maze. It’s carved out the same way. We get lost in all the same places. Last year, there had been a lot of storms. The maze was so depleted, I was towering over the stalks. And as you can imagine, at 5’2 1/4″, I don’t get that many towering opportunities. Regardless, it still took us a good hour and a half to navigate our way out. Sure, we could see the exit clearly. We just couldn’t figure out how to get there without intervention- divine or otherwise… Hm… Sounds familiar… Continue reading
When we first started taking the kids for haircuts, it was a harrowing experience. We specifically picked a salon that had videos for them to watch and fun chairs like horseys and police cars for them to sit in during the deed. We traveled miles over mountains and prairies to get to this salon that catered to little kids. And the way it turned out, at least one of those kids owes me some gas money. Continue reading
Hurricanes & IVF: The similarities are endless. It looks like Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, Jose, Katia… the whole gang will mercifully spare our area. Last year, we weren’t quite as lucky with good ol’ Matthew, the bastard. I dedicate this post from last October to those caught in the devastation of these hurricanes and / or the horrors of September 11, 2001… and as always… the suckiness of infertility.
Whoever came up with the idea of building houses in North Carolina that run solely on electrical power must have been out of their minds…. So here I am in the wake of Hurricane Matthew, sitting in my dark bedroom for the second day, staring at my TV, not watching my football game that, according to my blank clock on the cable box, started without me, waiting for a team of strangers lurking somewhere out there in the night to flip a switch, duck tape a wire hanger to a post or super glue something so I could get on with my life.
What if what they’re doing doesn’t work and they have to start all over again? What if the person working on my case, isn’t the right one for my situation and doesn’t know what they’re doing? What if what they think is the problem turns out not to be the problem at all? What if this goes on for a really long time? What if everyone else around me has their situation resolved and I’m the only one left? Am I supposed to go on with my life as usual as though everything was normal? How can I still go to work, get along with my husband, deal with my friends, deal with my family (who are a trying group to begin with), have fun, laugh like nothing’s wrong… when I’m so emotionally and physically tired and it feels like my whole life is turned upside down?
Waaaaait a minute. This feels eerily familiar.
Didn’t I feel just like this while I was going through infertility? Hurricane IVF. I remember it well. Continue reading
Autumn of my fertility. I admit, it’s not quite as exciting as autumn itself. Waking up this morning, I didn’t even need to experience the 64 degree temperature first-hand. Just seeing it in the lower left corner of my local TV news was good enough to get me pumped up. Then there was the autumn of my fertility: Getting married at 38 1/2+ and, for an entire year trying to get pregnant naturally by myself (well, not totally by myself. I’m not a complete idiot.) Continue reading
First day of school: It’s so hard for any kid. Monday morning was a very hard morning for all of us… The only thing I don’t get– Yes, it was the first day of school, but not for my kids. Their school started a month ago. Continue reading
Labor Day is almost upon us again in the US. Okay, so I’m not saying I’m paranoid, but while I was going through infertility and treatments, I always took “Labor” Day as a personal affront to me and my kind. Just another conspiracy to screw with those trying to conceive I think. I mean it’s great everyone gets a long weekend off…
I know. To all of those who live somewhere where there is a Labor Day, only those trying to conceive could be offended. Most holidays offend us, or at least hurt our feelings. So why should Labor Day be any different? It’s just the beginning: Continue reading
When I suggest people try online infertility support groups, I’m sometimes met with: “Why would I want to tell my personal infertility business to total strangers?” That’s it. That’s exactly why you want to go onto online infertility support groups: Because everyone is a total stranger.
If you read part 1, you know that school started for my kids three weeks ago and that thus far their “regular”school bus driver was present and accounted for precisely five of those fifteen school days, having taken a smattering of days off, culminating in a full blown week-long scheduled vacation. This leaves me wondering whether announcing that she was our “regular” school bus driver wasn’t referring to her bowel habits and not her work habits.
So today she was back from her vacation. Well, maybe she was. She didn’t come back to work though. Is she coming back or isn’t she? Did she flee to destinations unknown? I have no idea if school bus drivers have many advancement opportunities but I didn’t think they had any embezzlement opportunities.
Meanwhile in her absence, my kids’ bus route has had various revolving school bus drivers.
In my newest little eBook, I have a chapter called:
“The School Bus Situation: Because every year there is indeed ‘a school bus situation’.” This is no exaggeration. My triplets are just starting sixth grade. The first week of school is always that adjustment period. Teachers are getting to know the kids. Kids are getting to know the teachers. Where do we sit? What time is lunch? Now that they’re in middle school there’s even more to get used to: Where’s my locker? How do I get to my next class? What time does the bell ring? And this period of adjustment extends to the bus drivers. Where’s the stop? Who’s at the bus stop? What’s the bus route? The only difference is: By the end of the first two weeks, teachers and kids have pretty much settled in… and “the school bus situation” is just getting revved up.
Like a good mechanic, a good doctor is hard to find. But fertility doctors seems to be a little bit different. The vast majority I’ve dealt with have been amazing: Very caring. Very dedicated. A few were arrogant asses. They still seemed to be excellent doctors. Just arrogant asses. Unfortunately, I’m not good with arrogant asses… and neither is my big mouth. You’d think by now we’d both be mature enough to just ignore them, but no.