The more things change.

Because of course.  NINETEEN days ago when I thought it was my period it was spotting.  Which has continued to be annoying and here/not here won't get here won't leave, since then.  Sooooo who the hell knows what is going on.

In futher reproductive news, I have regular nightmares about getting pregnant again.  Which is ironic I guess.  But another pregnancy would be so dangerous that it would be...a hard choice but really the only choice to not continue.  So I guess the nightmare is that my ligation would fail.  We keep discussing Mr getting fixed too and obviously he is not super keen to have somewhat unnecessary surgery so our conversations tend to be unproductive.  But I am still having nightmares about it every two weeks or so.  The last one I dreamt a psychic came and I was paranoid as hell and had her hold her magical purple light over me and assure me that nope, nothing is happening. And then I was relieved.

So that's not crazy or anything.

Dammitall

CD 1.  Sigh. I won't lie. I had hoped to skip right into menopause. PLEASE DON'T BE EVIL, please PCOS? Please. Anyhow yay womenhood. 

Onederland.

Allison was one yesterday.  She celebrated by getting her MMR.  Poor baby girl.  It snowed SO MUCH SNOW.  So it was a quiet but lovely party.  We actually did not even have dessert.  Everyone was tired. So she had her vanilla cream pie today.  She did however enjoy her homemake chicken and dumplings.  She is just such a lovely, happy baby.  She says "Mama, Dada, milk, no, GO, book, and look." Which is incredible.  Peter and James did not talk til they were two.  She was very excited with her new push toy and her books.  Also her bubble machine, sorry pumpkin, that's for OUTSIDE.

I think her having her birthday pie the day after her birthday is really a snapshot of how her life is.  We enjoy her. We don't rush.  She is our last.  Our last baby.  And our last baby is not a baby anymore.

Love you forever.

Mama

My whole heart.

Peter is five tomorrow.  It is hard to believe.  Ten YEARS ago we started trying to have a family.  And now Peter is five.  A lot happened this week.  Some of it was great.  Some of it was terrible.  But tomorrow will be cake and hotdogs( his choice) and Transformers everywhere.  Also Legos.  Also more Transformers.  I have to go wrap his presents and his cake just came out of the oven.  It is cooling. Much like five years ago, I am exhausted.

When Peter was a baby I would whisper "You are my whole heart" every night at bed time.  One day I said "You are my" and a little voice finished "whole heart".  And it is true.  My whole heart. Always.  And always.

Happy Birthday Sea Monkey.

love,

Mama

My darling, darling.

James was three yesterday. His party was lovely, even if some of our guests could not come due to Snowstorm THOR.  Bum Bum BUM! We ( great now I can't get the bold off) got ten inches of snow.  But enough people live on our block that we had invited to still have a very nice time.  James has been feeling very left out and middle child lately, he kept asking with his presents "my OWN playdoh?  My OWN dinosaurs?" And I was like oh baby, I know honey.  

He is such a lovely and mischiveous child.  We did a Rudolph theme per his impassioned request. 

We made Rudolph cake pops, they took HOURS. We had to bake the cake and mix it with frosting and shape it like a reindeer head(ish) and chill it and dip the stick and chill and do the ears and chill and dip the head and do the antlers and chill and do the snout and eyes and smile and then wrap them. MERCY.  They were beautiful and we are all that is glorious but NO WAY would I make them again. I would do a round one, but not a shaped one. Ok. If the kids are in school and big browned eyed James said please, I'd cave.   JUST FOR YOU Mr. Pickles.

Scott made a huge deer sized reindeer from cardboard and hung it on the wall, complete with red nose.  I made reindeer chow and 8 pounds of meatballs( because red and round like Rudolph's nose?) and buns and a fruit platter and a pepperoni( red and round) and cheese tray.  And then ice cream cake.  THANK YOU FOR WANTING ICE CREAM CAKE I AM TIRED. We had a huge custom banner and giant card board cut outs ( from his aunt) and streamers.  And Christmas music. Because you are so special my darling.  The jam in our family sandwich.

Christmas 2014

It's a mixed bag.

We have our lovely children.  That's the best present ever.  I had to go to urgent care because I fucked my back up big time.  Oh the ever loving FUCK.  If you ever wondered"gee how does it feel to nurse a nine month old when your back is fucked?" I can tell you.  BAD. It feels BAD.  It feels like when my labor was induced.  So it feels like trying to nurse while having back labor?  HELL YEAH I AM METAL.  So aside from the fact that I have three children and can't bend over or pick things up or sneeze without insane pain, everything is awesome.

Oh mercy.

Anyhow, Allison is thisclose to walking. Peter and James will be up in three hours.  I could not sleep( ha ha OTC motrin you are not working so funny) and am walking because I can't sit or lay down. Soooo I'm downstairs drinking a little bit at three a.m. because I need something.  oh mother fucker.  

Giving Thanks

It's been a while.  Which is understandable.  My plate is full.  My heart is full.  My life is full.  Our darling Allie is 8 months old and so happy.  So often I look at her and know how different it could have been.

Everyone is asleep and I should be making cranberry jelly.  But I'm  not.  I'm thinking about last Thanksgiving.  This time last year I was 22 weeks and had just had a glowing report from my dr.  And then two weeks later everything would hit the fan.  "Don't Google" those were my instructions to everyone.  I did because I had to and because I could not stop myself and each week after Scott and I would tick off one less worry as she hung in and grew. And stayed.  Our Grand Finale.  When I dreamed of three children I never thought it would take nine years.  But here we are .  And I am thankful.

Every year someone stumbles across my blog on Thanksgiving.  Maybe by accident. Maybe full of the despair I carried with me for years while I waited and hoped and worked for this family.  To you I say, it is ok to feel how you feel.  It is ok to hate me for being on the other side of infertility.  For having what you want.  I hated people too.  You are why I keep this blog up.  You are why I post.  Because there is life on the other side of infertility.  Sometimes with children and sometimes not.  But  it is there. Here is mine.