Archive for September, 2009


i confess that, last night, i had a dream i tested and got an overwhelming positive.
i confess that i woke up this morning, 6-7 dpo, and sleep-tested. (ie: had i been awake, my logical self would not have wasted a precious test.)
i confess that, of course, the test was negative.
i confess that, if i squinted, i saw something.
i confess that i looked at that poor test stick in all sorts of light, twisting it and continuing to squint.
i confess that i cannot trust mine eyes.

and i promise not to test again until a reasonable dpo.

the end.

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behold, this month’s chart overlain with The Month That Worked TM:

Picture 2

this is how i deal with the 2ww. i scrutinize. and analyze. and antagonize (but only a little).

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sorry to have pulled the old uterus switcheroo on all of you!

here is an explanation as to why a blastocyst may or may not be implanting in my uterus right about…now:

our discussion about who will carry has continued to go back and forth since the last time i wrote about it. we decided to take turns trying (and not in a way that could lead to us both being simultaneously pregnant). i actually did try in july, but we kept it really quiet. obviously, i didn’t get pregnant. when h’s turn rolled around, timing circumstances prevented an attempt.

meanwhile, my body is doing this weird thing where i have a 15 day, anovulatory cycle, followed by a 28ish day, ovulatory one. this month? tada! picture perfect chart.

underneath this egalitarian approach to conception, however, i’ve struggled. we are ready to expand our family. h does want to try to get pregnant. i want to try to get pregnant. and i think i really want it more. i experience a whole lot of grief when i think about not being the one to carry this time. we have talked about it honestly. and i’ve talked about it with my therapist, trying to get to the bottom of my sadness. here is what i’ve come up with:

i continue to be the working mom in our family. mostly, i am okay with this. i miss being intimately involved in jude’s daily schedule, but i make the absolute most of our time together. i try to protect every minute from distraction. overall, i’m happy with my job, and the balance i have with family life. and yet. i cannot deny how hard it is to be separated from the experience of raising my daughter every day.

if h gets pregnant, i am afraid of the feeling further left out. i will not be able to be intimately involved with the pregnancy. i won’t be able to support h when she is unable to balance a fetus and a toddler. and when the baby comes, i will have two weeks off. i worry about this.

and then there is the simple fact that–despite my kvetching here–i loved being pregnant. my whole body aches to be the one to carry our next child.

am i being selfish? i’d venture a “yes”. but. BUT. despite all of the above, i DO still support h’s desire to carry. however, she continues to waver about it. the reality of pregnancy (especially while also being responsible for a precocious toddler) sobers her curiosity about what it would be like to have a biological child.

so. as of now, we’re trucking along, negotiating possibilities, and maybe i’m pregnant. and, as convoluted as this whole conversation sounds, there is no tension in our household about kid 2.0. we’re on the same page. and as i sit here–lotus, in an office chair on a lunch hour–i feel like remarkably peaceful about the whole process.

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1000 words, give or take:

Picture 6

ahem, that would be my chart.

choo choo.

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today is my beloved’s birthday.
it is a full moon.
i am obviously ovulating.

quisas, quisas, quisas.

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14 months.

dear jude,

let’s see, approximately two weeks ago, you turned 14 months old. i have been delinquent in my writing to you (or anyone else, for that matter). since by the time you’re old enough to read, you won’t remember how busy i was in this season of your life, i won’t harp on it. old news. so over it.

let’s talk about you, shall we?

first: sleep. we’ve talked about sleep here before. but not recently. and mostly because i haven’t wanted to jinx the dream. because. you, my darling girl, have figured sleep out. one of your mothers puts you to bed for naps or the big night sleep, and you roll over, or wave, or blow a kiss. and then–sometimes after a few moments of mattress bouncing–you go to sleep. at night now, you average 10 hours straight. then you get up for breakfast and elmo, and go back to bed for at least another hour.

i love you. i’d love you even if you didn’t sleep this well. but for figuring out how to put yourself to sleep, and for being okay with being alone in your room? i love you so.

speaking of elmo, i suppose i should confess to how much you enjoy your programs. of course, there is your love affair with the many adventures of winnie the pooh. i could never fully express the depths of your relationship with this film, nor would i dare to. that is your story, your relationship. and i respect your privacy.

you also enjoy blue and steve (but not joe–his eyebrows are disconcerting) in the evenings, as well as a dash of dora and diego here and there (though we have begun explaining to you that boots is nothing but a materialistic user who always leads dora into needless danger. and for what? a bouncy ball or something equally inane). you have a mad crush on dj lance from yo gabba gabba, and dancey dance time is amongst your favorite times of day.

so yeah, you watch tv, and you get really into it. we watch it with you, and our conversations throughout the day contain such priceless quotes as this: “you, sir, are stuck. a wedged bear in a great tightness. in a word, irremovable.” your language skills, my dear, are going to be amazing, if we keep this up.

oh language. you talk. with words. they’re still mostly unintelligible to anyone but your parents, but they’re actual words. they include, but are not limited to:

hi doggy
hi kitty
hi sal (a kitty)
have more
mamamamama (me)
ma (h)
guh (uncle g)

last month, we experienced a big fambly milestone. you went to spend the weekend with gabby and pop pop, while we stayed home and turned our library of mass destruction into your playroom. we wanted to create a first floor tv-free, pet-free, sharp-edges-free area for you to simply run around and be the exuberant toddler you are. this particular weekend, all of us were sick, but we persevered. you charmed the pants off your grandparents, and we set to work. we cleaned and painted and took a trip to ikea, and you came home to a lovely space of your own. you play there every day now, and listen to records with your mama. you really like louis armstrong, as it turns out.

so that is it for this edition of your life, month by month. as per usual, have some photos, taken by my trusty canon (as opposed to nikon, as some person accused me of having).

i love you, big girl. more than you love pooh.


the new room, ground view:
new train in a new play room.

you and me and a lazy saturday:
self portrait.

you and mama and a dora tent that only lasted a day:
with mama in the illfated tent.

swimming with your friend, sophie:
swimming with sophie.

naked sprinkler time:

learning numbers with pooh:
friendlier with two.

talking on your foot phone, as seen through the rearview mirror:

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