Monday, November 22, 2004

Nothing new.

I haven't blogged in quite some time. Where do I start? I just finished reading all of my posts and I have a strange feeling. I guess I should start from the beginning...

Earlier this month, I had a colonoscopy performed that proved unsuccessful. The doctor could not advance past my splenic flexure and had to abort the procedure. He recommended that I have a barium enema. I'm very pissed about this whole situation. First off, the prep for the colonoscopy was awful. I absolutely hate the stuff I have to drink to clean me out. Anyone who has had to do this can testify to its horrid-ness. (is that a word?) In any case, the barium enema requires the same prep, so naturally I asked the nurse, who informed me of the doctor's recommendation, if I could have it done that day. I was already prepped and still partially sedated from my earlier procedure. Of course she said that the doctor didn't want to do the procedure that day, and he had already left. I still haven't spoken with the doctor regarding the results, and I've called his office 4 times. It simply amazes me how much practicing medicine has turned into such a 'business.' It is so infuriating that I can't speak with a doctor anymore.

Anyway, I called Dr. Loy to discuss the results of my colonoscopy with him, hoping that the results had been faxed over. Of course, they had not. I was however informed, by the nurse at Dr. Loy's office, that he refuses to do my surgery until I have this barium enema. I am still pissed because I can't seem to talk to the actual doctor that prescribed it. I seem to think that he is just being overly cautious, and that I don't really need this procedure. I have surgery scheduled for December 9th, with Dr. Loy. I need to talk to someone quickly, because if these assholes insist that I have this done, then I have precious little time.

So, that being said, I've been on a break from the infertility treatments. I have been feeling pretty good, actually. I have been doing yoga everyday and I hid the scale. My energy is much better and my general state of mind has improved. I got a new cute hair cut, so that helps too. Heh. This strange feeling that I mentioned earlier is because I read my previous blog entries. I read how depressed and angry and desperate I was, and I know that I'm going to feel like that again soon. I guess this is the quiet before the storm. I have been free of the fertility drugs for a while now, and I can tell such a difference. Any question that I had earlier that it was the drugs causing the depression, bloating, fatigue and insomnia has now been answered. I'll be starting again in a month or so, and I have that to look forward to all over again.

Rob and I have some hard decisions to make. We have tried 3 cycles of IUI with no success. I am going to get a laparoscopy in 2 1/2 weeks and then we'll start trying again as soon as I recover. The nurse had mentioned the MS-IVF, and I've done a lot of research regarding that. It seems as thought that is where we're heading. I got some information in the mail about the program at the clinic Rob and I go to and the cost is steep. When she said the cost is 5K, plus medicine, she failed to mention the 'miscellaneous additional costs' which add up to about two thousand dollars. She did mention something about a study being done that we could participate in, which would pay for the medicines. That helps, but we're still looking at an initial cost of about $7,000. That is just for the first cycle. It makes me just sick to think about it. I really don't know what to do. I feel terrible that Rob and I have been married for 6 months, and they have been spent stressing about having a baby. I feel bad that we're going to have to dip into our savings (a big dip) in order to make it happen. He has been acting differently lately and I know he is stressed about this. Man, he sure didn't sign on for this. Heh, which man does? I feel awful. I wish it wasn't so. I wish we were younger so we could spend a few years enjoying being married. We could travel and save up more money and have fun. Instead, we have to do this. This sucks beyond words. Blah.

Ok, I'm up late and I'm typing more depressing stuff in my blog. I hate that. hmm.. I'm signing off.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Stages of "Friendship"

I'm going to be cynical here for a minute. Ok, maybe a few.

I think that all friends are fair-weather friends. I'm no exception. I think that when you get right down to it, people really don't care about your personal trials and tribulations. They don't want to hear about or care why your wife spends too much money or your best friend is an alcoholic. They do however, listen, with earnest and forced caring. Then they give advice and try to make you all better. Often people give advice when it isn't' asked of them, or even the correct advice to give. They give it because they want to see you all happy and smiling again. They like the happy you because it is easier for them. Don't be fooled. People really don't give a shit about what you're going through. If they are going to stick around through it, they just help you get over it faster to get you back to the person they enjoy.

Please don't take this as a bash on all the people in my life who offer a "lending hand." I am probably one of the worst offenders of the unsolicited advice giving. I think I'm helping people and in turn I feel some reward for my selfless act. Bullshit. We all just really care about ourselves and the things that affect our worlds. Being surrounded by unhappy, depressed or generally grumpy people is not fun. If you like that person enough in their times of joy, then you will put forth the effort to get them past the bullshit. Then you can continue on your journey of revelry and laughter. Otherwise, you distance yourself (if you're trying to be polite about it) or you just give that person the "tough love" or say "Fuck you. You're on your own."

I know you think I'm being harsh, but c'mon, this is how we all truly feel. When someone becomes too much to bear, you let that person go on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. Right. Fact is, you didn't want to endure the un-fun side of that person any longer. They weren't worth the time any longer.

I think there are stages to this. When a friend is down, this is how people generally react:

1.) "Friends" will give a few obligatory hours of "listening." They figure they at least owe this to their friend, a.k.a. Downer, who, too many times to count, held their hair while they puked. Hopefully after a few of these sessions, the Downer will get over whatever is bothering them.

2.) Next is the advice stage. This advice is given whether or not it is asked for by said Downer. This is an attempt to hurry along the depression or general shittiness and proceed to better, more happy times. Don't be mistaken, this is purely selfish. The "friends" never have, and still don't give a shit about what is going on with the Downer.

3.) Thirdly is the 'tough love' stage. This comes right before the "Fuck you, I can't deal with this anymore" stage. Dr. Phil popularized this stage and in his practice has re-ordered this as Stage One. This is when the Downer gets brow beaten and verbally abused into feeling better. This attack is masked as "tough love" and is associated with common phrases like, "I'm only saying this because I care about you" and "You can't keep acting like this. I'm only trying to help." Again, this is purely selfish and is a sign that the "friend" of the Downer has reached his or her wits end.

4.) Finally is the "Fuck you, I can't deal with this anymore" stage. This is a short stage when the Downer is let go and told to handle this problem on his or her own. The "friend" is no longer willing to put up with or fake concern on behalf of the good times they once shared. They have given up on any future good times and will begin a search for another person to hold their hair.

In conclusion, people simply don't give a fuck. You're born alone, you walk alone and you die alone. Welcome to the real world. If you don't like it, don't tell me about it. I couldn't care less.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Pep talk

I am so bored. I am tired of being depressed, but I don't yet have the energy to do anything about it. I took another pregnancy test this morning, and it was negative. It was a bit early, but I'm convinced that the third insemination didn't work. The plan now is to get surgery. Dr. Loy is going to be out of the country until mid-November, so I probably won't get the surgery until December sometime. That is just as well; I'd like to enjoy my Thanksgiving holiday.

I will have to go back on the pill until my laporoscopy. This time I'll take them continuously so that I don't get my period. That way the doctor has more flexibility in scheduling. I can't be on my period during the surgery. I hope that the pill helps me to lose some weight. I might actually have to get off my ass for that to happen. I have just become so apathetic. I hate being this fat, but I eat ice cream every night anyway. I guess that is what depression does to a person.

I really want to try to look at this break from the treatments as a chance to get myself back on balance. I'd like to lose 15 pounds and get my head on straight. I really should weigh 125 based on my height and my frame. Ok, maybe 127, but either way, I'm nowhere close to that. I'm 141 as of this morning, and that is just sad.

after I get my period, and I know with out a doubt that I'm not pregnant, I told rob that I wanted to go on the South Beach diet again. I really hated it, but I could probably drop some pounds in the 2-week induction period. After I get on a roll, I'll just watch what I eat and go from there. I'd like for Rob to lose 25 pounds to get to 190. We'd both feel so much better about ourselves.

I think the big thing I'm wondering now is what I'm going to do with myself until January or February. I mean, we can't start trying again until that time, and sitting around waiting to get pregnant just won't work. I need to find things to fill my days. I have a million things I want to do around the house. I really need to find the motivation and energy to do them. I guess the only place to get it is inside me. I hope I can give myself an attitude adjustment soon. It is just so easy to slip into complacency and laziness and self-pity when I'm here alone all the time. I should make my top priority to lose weight and get in shape. I have to promise myself that I do some sort of exercise every day, even if it's only for 15 minutes. I really don't have any excuse. I don't have anything I have to do during the day. I just sit at this damn computer and stare at the screen, trying to find things to research or read. Get a life, Shannon. Doing things by yourself isn't that bad. You can do it.

I had better go finish getting dinner ready.

Shannon, pull yourself up. Don't drown in self pity. Chin up. You are a healthy, smart, beautiful woman who has a wonderful life. Don't let it go to waste while you lie in bed all day. You WILL have a baby. You need surgery to help with the endo, regardless of trying to get pregnant. Everything is going the way it should.

Love yourself. You are enough.

Not this time

I tested for pregnancy again this morning.

It was negative.

No, nope, none, not this time

zero
zip
zilch

nada, goose-egg, naught, nothing, nix

diddly, no-show, one-liner, no-no,

ain't gonna happen, ix nay, figures, forget it,

Predicted

hurting, aching, greiving

screaming, kicking, crying, fists

wailing, sobbing, need a hug, why, why why?

sniffle, dry up, staring

Numb



Thursday, October 21, 2004

WHAT?!

Ok, something must be wrong. Yes, something is definitely amiss. Here I am, awake at 1:37am and I don't feel like researching on the internet. I was inseminated today (for the 3rd time) and my usual protocol is to run to the computer with great haste and search for answers as to my fertility fate.

But not today. I just don't feel like it.

This is a strange and liberating feeling. I think I just don't give a damn. If I'm pregnant, great. If not, oh well. It's not the end of the world. I guess I'll just wait the two weeks like every woman does and see what happens.

Ok, so what the hell do I do now?

Friday, October 15, 2004

Do you hear what I'm cluckin', Big Chicken?

Sorry friends and neighbors, here comes another depressing post in my blog.

I really need to get this out. I don't know what this is, but nevertheless it needs to go. I went to the doctor today. I had a follicle scan done and lo and behold! I had 4 follicles. Two of them were mature, or well on their way. I talked to the head nurse and she talked about us formulating a plan. I told her of the bleeding I've been having and she referred me to a gastroenterologist. I have an appointment next week. We are also going to inseminate for the third time on Wednesday. I am ... Well, I'm all sorts of things right now. I am super excited that I have 2 mature follicles, which in theory could result in twins. I am disheartened that my endometrial lining was very thin. I have been instructed to take low-dose aspirin every day for the next couple of days to help thicken it up and increase our chances of implantation. Mardi said we're looking at surgery if I'm not pregnant this month. I'm not so upset about that because it will help me with the pain and other awful symptoms I suffer from with endo. It will also increase my fertility directly after the surgery. The last thing that Mardi mentioned and asked Rob and I to think about is called Mini-Stim IVF. It means Minimal Stimulation In-Vitro Fertilization. Because I'm young and not obese and Rob has a good sperm count, and we fit other qualifying criteria, we would be eligible for a drug study. That means that we could have our medications paid for; a value of approximately $2500. We would have to pay for the actual procedure which would set us back a cool 5K. It is about a third of the cost of traditional IVF because there is less monitoring and drugs needed. Anyway, she said that we could certainly think about that and possibly start around January.

January sure does seem far away. I guess we are half way through October, but I was sure I'd be pregnant for Christmas. I was even hoping to get a cute Daddy-to-be ornament for Rob. I guess I'll get to wait for the 50% off sales after the holidays.

I don't want to discount this month. I guess there is still a chance that I could get pregnant. I just feel somewhere that it's just not going to happen. I was very disappointed when I saw that I have virtually no uterine lining today. Mardi was even surprised because I've always had a nice thick lining.

I need to take up some form of martial art. I really need to pound on something for a while to let this anger go. I don't know why I'm angry, per se. I just feel like this is such bullshit. I'm ready to be pregnant and have a baby. I'm sick of the test and the false hope and the disappointment that always follows.

I feel like I have no one to talk to about this. (No offense Patrick, Pam and Rob.) My husband and 2 friends are great. I feel guilty though and I don't want to wear them thin. Like my lining. Then they'll abort our friendship. Wow. Infertility jokes aren't funny. I wish I could talk to my mom more about this. She doesn't seem very receptive. Perhaps she doesn't know what to say. I think most anyone I talk to has that dilemma. I think I mostly just want to blab about it for hours on end. When I don't, it builds up inside me and I end up unloading on Rob. I think I've balled on his shoulder every night this week. What a downer I am.

I just want to run. I want to break into a sprint and just run and run until I fall over from exhaustion. I'd probably make it to the mailbox, but that's not the point. I want to scream and cry and punch something and kick a hole in the wall and break something and then fall on the ground sobbing until I fall asleep. I know that won't solve anything, but I still feel it anyway.

I think I might go see a counselor. I really don't know how to deal with these feelings. I am so obsessed with this that I'm starting to fear the computer. I look at is as some drug and I need my fix by researching and reading and searching. There are days when I literally have to force myself not to sit in this dark room, glued to the screen looking for an answer that doesn't exist. I have to realize that I'm not going to find what I'm looking for. I'm not going to find, written on some website, the answer to my infertility. I read about other women's infertility stories, yet I feel so detached. I never post myself. I am the great observer.

I don't think I'm making a damn bit of sense. I don't really give a fuck. It feels good to just get these feelings out. I hate them and they are eating me alive.

It is getting to the point that I cry at any commercial that focuses on family and babies. It is amazing how many of them there are. I was in line at Target today and I was staring at the kids in the cart in front of me. I didn't hear the man call, "Ms?" 3 times because I was so entrenched in the little girls crawling out of the cart. I kept wondering what mine will look like. I almost told their mother that I'm trying to conceive through IUI, perhaps hoping she'd say, "Really!? That is how I conceived all of my children. It worked for me on the third try and I had hardly any uterine lining. I had 2 eggs and endometriosis."

Am I going out of my mind? Heh, ok. I'm laughing at myself now. Sometimes I take things too damn seriously. Lighten up Shan, will ya?

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Sleepless in Sanford

I'm on night 3 of being up all night. Or night 4. I honestly can't remember. When you are up half the night, the days seem to run together. I've resorted to trying to listen to soft jazz to lull me to sleep, but there is something about a saxophone that grates at me after a few hours.

I'm not really sure what is causing my insomnia. I keep wanting to blame it on the medicine I've been taking, but it could be stress too. And while on that topic of stress, I sometimes wonder if I just like being stressed. When I think back over different times in my life, I have always been stressed about something. And if there wasn't anything good to fret over, I created it. Not that I'm creating my infertility, but C'mon, it's not that bad, is it?

One time a counselor told me that depression is anger turned inward. I don't think truer words were ever spoken. After our first failed attempt at IUI, I was just sad. I grieved for about 4 days, and then I felt better and moved on. (I know, can you believe it? Me, actually letting something go? Unheard of.) Then after the second time of peeing on that god-blessed stick and only receiving one line, I was just angry. I even threw it in the trash can and threw the box in after it and yelled a few explicatives, which I seem to do when I get angry. If you don't believe me, read the post called, "I can't think of a good title for this one." In any case, I didn't have anywhere to put my new found anger. I mean, blogging is therapeutic, sure, but it didn't do it for me this time. I stayed with my usual routine of harboring the crap.

My mind really amazes me sometimes. I can, as I'm sure everyone can, recall things that are so insignificant from my past and actually let them bother me now. I don't know what that has to do with anything, but I wanted to put it down for the record.

I am the type of person that likes to have a clean answer for everything. I research and investigate until I have the answer all bundled up in a neat little package and tied with a bow. Unfortunately, I can't research on the internet as to why I'm mad about not being pregnant. Google didn't pop up anything useful when I searched on, Shannon + not pregnant + pissed off. So, I looked to my next best resource - the grudges and harbored crap in the marina of my memory. I came up with all sorts of things on that search. I guess the most prominent result was that I'm just not good enough. I seem to think, or have stored in the dusty files of my brain, that it's my fault that we're going through this infertility stuff. And like the internet, that connects to several other cerebral entries regarding my lack of worth. And so it starts. The infamous snowball of thoughts and questions. "Why the hell aren't these treatments working? I just can't do anything right. I feel terrible that I'm putting Rob through this. I wonder if I'll ever get pregnant. Will I have to have surgery? Do I have that embryotoxic fluid that is killing my newly fertilized eggs? Will this third attempt work? Should I even entertain the thought that it will? How come I can't stop thinking about this? I feel like crap. Boo hoo, I feel so sorry for myself." And ultimately, "Do we have anything to eat?"

I am suffering from never ending cycles of self torture. It starts here: I'm taking this medicine that screws up my hormones. That in itself is reason to go bonkers. Secondly, I seem to suffer from every freaking side effect there is for this particular drug. Oh wait, all of them except weight loss. Oh, I could only be so lucky. Next, I pound myself with thoughts that I'm not enough, or too fat or just plain worthless. I hate the fact that I've gained weight, but I'm too tired to do anything about it. Damnit man! Something has to give. I think if I could just drag my ass to the gym enough to make my thighs a little thinner, then all would be well in my world. Ok, maybe that is a bit exaggerated. All would be better.

I often find myself comparing this, shall I say, stint of unemployment to my last period of no work. The difference is that I'm not collecting unemployment and I'm not living alone. Oh yeah, and this time I'm actually trying to get pregnant. When I think back to 2002 (yes, I was unemployed for the entire year of 2002) I think of it fondly. I used to read until sunrise, and then snuggle in bed and sleep until noon. I would come and go and do whatever I pleased, within reason of course, seeing as how I had scarce monetary means. I guess my point is that I didn't have anyone to answer to, so sitting around all day doing nothing except obsessing over whatever I chose to let stress me at the time was perfectly acceptable. This time, however, I have a husband. An incredibly wonderful husband, I might add. We also happen to live together and he is paying my way, so to speak. This is where the guilt comes in. I feel much less guilty taking money from Uncle Sam than I do from my other half. I also feel terrible if I haven't been productive all day and have 800 things to report (over a piping hot, homemade meal) when Ward comes home from the office. I then somehow feel unworthy of his love and concern and the constant attention that I demand. Do I really have a right to cry every night about not being pregnant? Can I blame my lack of motivation on this infertility-induced depression? When this is over and I have a baby, will I just find something else to be depressed about? Am I one of those people that loves to be miserable?

Shit, there I go again. It's snowing in Florida and I'm the Queen of Snowballs.


Wednesday, October 13, 2004

That familiar feeling

I haven't blogged in a while, and I don't think I'm going to post this one. I just feel so depressed. I don't know if the medicine is making me this way, or the fact that I can't seem to get pregnant or the fact that I've gained weight. Rob and I are on our 3rd cycle and we go to the doctor on Friday. I have one night left of the Letrozole, and it has been driving me crazy. I seem to be so sensitive to medicine. I think I get almost every side effect listed. The past two nights, I've had a very difficult time falling asleep. The night before last, I was up most of the night and I finally went to bed around 6:30 AM. Last night I didn't fall asleep until after 2:30 AM. This has got to stop. I feel so down and hopeless. I hate the fact that I've gained weight and I'm so bloated, it only makes me feel worse. I ran some errands today and I just felt like crying at Wal-Mart. I don't want to hang out with anyone and I don't feel like going out of the house. I want to try to exercise so much, but recently, I've just been so exhausted I can't seem to do anything. I don't even find enjoyment in putting up my fall decorations. I really hope that I get pregnant this time, but for some reason I just don't think it is going to happen. Maybe that is my subconscious way of preparing myself for disappointment. I don't know. I think I'm going to go lay down. I've been having sciatica pain that has been keeping me up at night. It really sucks. I feel bad for Rob. He has been so great and supportive. He is the best that I could ever ask for. Emma too. I don't know what I would do without them. They are my life.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

I can't think of a good title for this one.

I took another goddamned pregnancy test today, and of course I'm not pregnant. I can't even begin to describe the anger I feel inside right now. Why isn't this fucking working? Why am I feeling these seemingly real symptoms when I'm not pregnant? How much more of this bullshit will I have to endure? How much more money are we going to waste trying to get pregnant when it just seems like it is never going to happen?? I feel like these pregnancy tests are looking for something that my body just will never produce. It's as though I'm peeing on a stick that is looking for signs of a penis. I don't have one and I never will.

I've been reading online about depression and infertility. Over and over I've read that depression can make infertility worse. What a kick in the ass that is. I mean, infertility is depressing enough by itself, much less taking these fucking drugs that make you all whacked out. And to add insult to injury, the IUIs aren't working! And I'm not supposed to be depressed about this? Now I have the added guilt that my THOUGHTS are keeping me from having a baby. There is nothing more in the world that I want than to have a baby. How come THAT thought isn't taking over and making this happen?

Last month, the nurse mentioned taking a more aggressive approach if the 2nd IUI didn't work. She talked about 'injectables' which increase the number of eggs I produce. I haven't talked to my doctor specifically about this, but from what I've read, the medicines are quite expensive, ranging from $500- $1500 per cycle. That is in addition to the other $700 we're spending. We might as well cancel Christmas this year. Thanks, Shannon. Good going.

I consider myself a strong person. I have been through some shit in my life and ended up on the other side a stronger, smarter person. This however is kicking my ass. I feel so worthless. I feel like I can't even do the one thing that women are biologically made to do. I just don't understand why this isn't working. The egg is there. The sperm is there. Millions of them. And they just can't seem to get along.

I saw this movie over the weekend called, "What the Bleep Do We Know?" and I'm not sure it was such a good idea. It talked about quantum physics and our thoughts that create our own realities. I just don't know how to stop thinking about becoming pregnant. I admit, I am consumed with it. I try so hard to be positive about it. I thought I did really well this month. I didn't spend every day on the internet researching the same thing over and over. But now that I've taken the test and it's negative, AGAIN, how can I NOT think about the negative side? This is killing me. When I try to ignore the fact that I have to do IUI to get pregnant, or try to say, "It will happen when it's meant to happen," then I think I'm just bullshitting myself. Give me a fucking break. Something is not working right. I don't understand what it is, but it has to be something.

How many more times will I have to hear, "well, try again next month?" I get this crushing disappointment each month and then get all excited again for the next cycle. I think to myself, "THIS is going to be it." I feel like I've just been lying to myself for so long. I don't know what to believe anymore. I feel numb inside. I really thought I was pregnant this month. I've had so many symptoms that I haven't had before. My boobs have been very sore, which I thought was my biggest clue. I just keep thinking, "What am I supposed to think from now on?" So next month when I try, and I get sore boobs, I will just dismiss it as ... What? My mind playing tricks on me? A side effect from the medicine? This has to be the most fucked up thing ever. Take medicine that makes you have symptoms similar to pregnancy, make you more emotionally fragile and then NOT FUCKING WORK!!

One more try and then I give up. I'll just go get a job. This is so fucking stupid. I hate this. HATE it.

Monday, September 27, 2004

It's MAGIC!

I just bought one of those Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. It removes dirt, smudges and crayon marks from your walls. It even magically erases paint! Wow! Who thought of this?! Whoever they are, they're genius!!

Unfortunately, it can't erase sarcasm. (Sigh) Ah well, they can't think of everything.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Caller IQ

Caller ID is outdated. The phone companies should invent Caller IQ. I'd much rather know if the person calling is a dumbass, rather than their name.

Would save me from answering the phone all the time.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

Being prepared

It's amazing how you think you can be prepared for something, only to find that you are so far out in left field you can't even see home plate.

I tested today for pregnancy. I was so nervous. I didn't want to watch as the shade of pink ran across the test window collecting in the wondrous-two or devastating-one line. I watched anyway.

Of course I'm not pregnant. The lone pink line stared at me, laughing and saying, "Did you actually think I'd give you two? Ha ha, don't be so naive! Don't you know I am the destroyer of dreams? I am here to plummet you further into this infertility-induced depression, you worthless excuse for a woman!"

Really, it just laid there on the counter.

I wasn't surprised. I think this is where the perceived preparedness came in. I just kind of shrugged and said, "Well, we'll try again next month. You were expecting this." I had even repeated to myself as I was peeing on the damn thing, "Don't get disappointed."

So here I am. I am the epitome of disappointment. I am also as un-prepared for this as I can be. I never was good at following directions.

... the tears haven't stopped.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

Frances

So, another hurricane is headed our way. Or so the news is saying. People are running around buying up things like water and Chef Boyardee. I don't get that. How would they heat up their ravoli without power?

This storm is one big bitch.

My parents are on a cruise. Along the way they stopped at Haiti. Well, the cruise ship calls it Labidi, which is really just a fenced-off portion of Haiti. They are due back on Sunday, in Port Canaveral, but I'm not sure they'll end up there. Perhaps they'll dock in Miami and have to be bussed back. My dad is just sick. He has made himself sick with worry. He likes to worry for the sport of it. He is like a black belt in worrying. I told him I'd take care of everything. I'm on my way to their house this afternoon to collect some valuables and important papers. Oh yeah, I'll grab the cats too. You'd think they could make it through the storm in a concrete condo with storm shutters. Pussies.

She always finds the sunshine

The sun shines in my windows. Throughout the day, different windows play host to the sun's rays. They shine in soft and steady, warming spots on the carpet. Specs of dust can been seen floating silently in the air. The warmth stays for a while, before moving westward. No matter where the sunshine is, you'll always find her. Illuminated bright white; warm and sweet.






She is my sunshine.
Posted by Hello

I love this man. Posted by Hello

My first entry

Well, I've gotten off to a great start in my blog with a super creative title! I've been meaning to start this thing for some time now. I think I've missed out on imortalizing some deep thoughts.

I think this Blog is going to be the best forum for me to bitch. I'm not sure I'll even let anyone read it because they might get the impression that all I do is bitch. Or that I am one, even. Not that that would matter too much, but I fear that if I share this, I will censor my thoughts. I really just want to have a one-way bitch session. I mean, isn't that what BLOG means? Bitch and Let it Out, Girl.

So, I'm trying to get pregnant. My husband and I are going through ART, Assisted Reproductive Technology. I was artificially inseminated on August 27, 2004. I have one week before I can take a pregnancy test and I'm officially obsessed. It really is a sickness. I seem to have lost interest in things that I used to enjoy. You know, like hanging out with girl friends and such. It even seems as if I've lost girlfriends. I feel reclusive and alone with my obsession and I quite like it that way. On occasion, I've made an attempt to contact said girlfriends, but it seems that we have little in common anymore. I am just not interested in the guy of the week, or where Sally went on a date. Selfish, really. Can't they just talk about me? ;)

I think mostly, that I feel guilty. I feel like I'm no fun anymore. I can't drink, and I'm not much in the mood for crazy nights out and partying. Wow. I just had a huge dejavue. Amazing. It was really strange. I just re-read the first sentence in this paragraph, and BAM! There it was. I've been here before. Good, I'm on the right path then.

Ok, it doesn't seem like I'm going to get any more interesting in this post. I think this is the official end to my very first entry.