This year is the year. I am determined!
So what is it? Project 52 (P52) is where you make it a point to take at least one picture a week for a whole year, and then scrapbook what you have. It was originally just taking a picture a week, but it morphed into scrapping, too. And P52 is actually an off-shoot of Project 365. Yep. Taking a picture every day for a whole year. P365 is a little (ok, very) ambitious for me. So P52 is perfect, and I just happen to have tons of digital scrapbooking "supplies" just sitting on my external hard drive, waiting to be used.
I did remember it in time to start on the New Year this year, but after a few months, I seemed to run out of inspiration. I mean, I'm at home pretty much all day. There's only so much you can take a picture of before you start getting monotonous, and who wants to see a picture of stuff I clean? So then I thought it'd be fun to take a picture of DH's sandwiches during the week. But he eats the same thing literally every day (he likes it like that), so if that's not monotonous, I don't know what is.
Between now and the New Year, I have to find a theme to take pictures of. Like how our backyard changes every week (sounds fun, doesn't it?). Or which game our group of friends likes to play. I dunno. Something. But I really want to do it, so I'd better get inspired quick like. Just don't be surprised if I alter it down to P12! Hey, then I can make a calendar! I may be on to something there...
December 20, 2011
December 14, 2011
10 years
I suppose I should have written this last month, but honestly, I forgot this pretty big milestone due to the fact that the marriage anniversary trumps this one by a lot.
On November 3rd this year, my DH and I have officially been together for 10 years! And the time has flown by, but it still feels like we've been together forever. A third of my life. Wow.
We met when I was a sophomore in college and he was a junior. I was hanging out (or partying...) with some guys in the dorm at the time (no, not like that) and one night he showed up with one of the guys I'd been hanging out with a little. But since he had a girlfriend, I didn't even look at him with interest. Since he and this other guy are good friends, he was around a lot. And apparently I looked interesting enough that he would go out of his way to talk to me. Pretty soon, they were teaching me how to play 3-handed pinochle, and we became friends.
The next school year came, and after starting out kinda awkwardly (for numerous reasons I won't go into), we picked back up with the friendship. But little by little, it became apparent to me that he was interested in maybe more than friendship. He & his girlfriend had broken up during the previous school year, so I didn't have to worry about that. And I was interested also, and had been for a while, but was still hesitant. One night, he asked me out and I said yes. I don't remember what we did (it was probably a group date), but I do remember thinking that it would probably be a short-lived relationship... we were just too different to last a long time. Or so I thought.
He graduated & I became a senior, and we were going strong. Then I graduated and decided to stay because of him. I moved into his apartment. And while it was rough going there for a while, we got through it. We then moved into a house he bought. Then 5 years after we started dating, he proposed. Honestly, I was long past wondering if it would ever happen, so I was so happy when he did. Of course, I said yes. In April 2008, we got married.
Examining us now, it's become apparent to me that we have lasted this long simply because we are so different. If he were anything like me, it would drive me crazy, and any relationship certainly wouldn't last 5 years, let alone 10. Sure, we do share a lot of ideals & opinions, and that's our common thread. But everything else is just complementary of the other person.
And every day I thank my lucky stars that I have him in my life. I have no idea where I'd be without him. :)
On November 3rd this year, my DH and I have officially been together for 10 years! And the time has flown by, but it still feels like we've been together forever. A third of my life. Wow.
We met when I was a sophomore in college and he was a junior. I was hanging out (or partying...) with some guys in the dorm at the time (no, not like that) and one night he showed up with one of the guys I'd been hanging out with a little. But since he had a girlfriend, I didn't even look at him with interest. Since he and this other guy are good friends, he was around a lot. And apparently I looked interesting enough that he would go out of his way to talk to me. Pretty soon, they were teaching me how to play 3-handed pinochle, and we became friends.
The next school year came, and after starting out kinda awkwardly (for numerous reasons I won't go into), we picked back up with the friendship. But little by little, it became apparent to me that he was interested in maybe more than friendship. He & his girlfriend had broken up during the previous school year, so I didn't have to worry about that. And I was interested also, and had been for a while, but was still hesitant. One night, he asked me out and I said yes. I don't remember what we did (it was probably a group date), but I do remember thinking that it would probably be a short-lived relationship... we were just too different to last a long time. Or so I thought.
He graduated & I became a senior, and we were going strong. Then I graduated and decided to stay because of him. I moved into his apartment. And while it was rough going there for a while, we got through it. We then moved into a house he bought. Then 5 years after we started dating, he proposed. Honestly, I was long past wondering if it would ever happen, so I was so happy when he did. Of course, I said yes. In April 2008, we got married.
Examining us now, it's become apparent to me that we have lasted this long simply because we are so different. If he were anything like me, it would drive me crazy, and any relationship certainly wouldn't last 5 years, let alone 10. Sure, we do share a lot of ideals & opinions, and that's our common thread. But everything else is just complementary of the other person.
And every day I thank my lucky stars that I have him in my life. I have no idea where I'd be without him. :)
December 9, 2011
Our wanna-be crunchy lifestyle
Okay, wanna-be is pushing it a bit, but we talk about it once in a while. DH especially. He goes all out, and it involves doing stuff I don't think I can ever get into.
My idea of being crunchy is having my own garden in which I grow veggies and some fruit. But it wouldn't be organic. DH is all for that, but he takes the garden one step further by making our own compost. Fine. It makes sense to use grass clippings and food trash to feed the earth.
But here's where he goes a little crazy. He wants chickens. And goats. If I asked, he'd probably be all for a cow, and if we ate more pork, he'd want a pig, too. Um, no. I draw the line at having my own garden. I don't wanna have to deal with animal poop and taking care of said animals when it's -40F with 3 feet of snow on the ground in the winter. Besides, if we had those kind of animals, we'd need to live out in the country, because I think there are city ordinances against farm animals within city limits or something.
As always though, I have no idea if he's just teasing me or if he'd really do it if I gave him half a chance (which I won't). And I don't foresee the garden happening anytime soon, either. I love the idea of it, but when it comes down to it, I like being inside, and I HATE digging in the dirt. That is a recipe for a garden fail if I ever saw one.
But it's all nice to think about sometimes :)
My idea of being crunchy is having my own garden in which I grow veggies and some fruit. But it wouldn't be organic. DH is all for that, but he takes the garden one step further by making our own compost. Fine. It makes sense to use grass clippings and food trash to feed the earth.
But here's where he goes a little crazy. He wants chickens. And goats. If I asked, he'd probably be all for a cow, and if we ate more pork, he'd want a pig, too. Um, no. I draw the line at having my own garden. I don't wanna have to deal with animal poop and taking care of said animals when it's -40F with 3 feet of snow on the ground in the winter. Besides, if we had those kind of animals, we'd need to live out in the country, because I think there are city ordinances against farm animals within city limits or something.
As always though, I have no idea if he's just teasing me or if he'd really do it if I gave him half a chance (which I won't). And I don't foresee the garden happening anytime soon, either. I love the idea of it, but when it comes down to it, I like being inside, and I HATE digging in the dirt. That is a recipe for a garden fail if I ever saw one.
But it's all nice to think about sometimes :)
December 6, 2011
Christmas break
Not in the literal sense anyway. But as far as college band is concerned, it's Christmas break. We had the last concert of the semester on Sunday, and there are no more rehearsals until the middle of January. Sweet!
Why am I in the college band even though I'm not a student? Well, our local college has a pretty small band and the director invites community members and faculty to join to supplement the group. And I feel kinda special because I fall under the alumni category... and in special, I mean it makes me feel old sometimes. Like last year on September 11th, we were having sectionals and I mentioned that I was a sophomore in college when it happened and what class I was in, etc. My entire section were freshman, so they just looked at me with wide eyes and one of them said, "I don't remember much because I was in the second grade." Wow. That made me feel like a super old 29 year old.
Anyway, after I got laid off in 2010, and after the instructor for Jazzercize retired, I found my 5:00's suddenly open. So I contacted the director and asked if I would be able to join. Certainly, he said. I went in one day to "test" for placement, although I knew very well that I would be last chair just because I was joining midway through the 1st semester. That's fine. I like not having tons of responsibilities to play high notes and stuff. Now I'm in my second year with the band and am principle second, and really liking it. The director usually picks pretty difficult music, so it's a challenge, and the clarinet section has 10 people in it this year. This is ginormous for the size of our band, so we're told to back off a lot.
But it also drains my energy pretty quickly, so I'm glad for the break. Now would also be the perfect time to break in some new reeds, as I'm still on the one I used last year. But breaking in a reed is a pain in the ass, so I don't want to. I'll have to suck it up though because I really NEED a new working reed. Blah. Why can't they come pre-broken?
Why am I in the college band even though I'm not a student? Well, our local college has a pretty small band and the director invites community members and faculty to join to supplement the group. And I feel kinda special because I fall under the alumni category... and in special, I mean it makes me feel old sometimes. Like last year on September 11th, we were having sectionals and I mentioned that I was a sophomore in college when it happened and what class I was in, etc. My entire section were freshman, so they just looked at me with wide eyes and one of them said, "I don't remember much because I was in the second grade." Wow. That made me feel like a super old 29 year old.
Anyway, after I got laid off in 2010, and after the instructor for Jazzercize retired, I found my 5:00's suddenly open. So I contacted the director and asked if I would be able to join. Certainly, he said. I went in one day to "test" for placement, although I knew very well that I would be last chair just because I was joining midway through the 1st semester. That's fine. I like not having tons of responsibilities to play high notes and stuff. Now I'm in my second year with the band and am principle second, and really liking it. The director usually picks pretty difficult music, so it's a challenge, and the clarinet section has 10 people in it this year. This is ginormous for the size of our band, so we're told to back off a lot.
But it also drains my energy pretty quickly, so I'm glad for the break. Now would also be the perfect time to break in some new reeds, as I'm still on the one I used last year. But breaking in a reed is a pain in the ass, so I don't want to. I'll have to suck it up though because I really NEED a new working reed. Blah. Why can't they come pre-broken?
December 2, 2011
Sorry...
I haven't written a lot because I just haven't been wanting to write about infertility. And since that's why I started this blog, I feel guilty if I don't write about it. But then I remind myself that it's actually a personal blog, and it just so happens that infertility is a HUGE part of my life, so it stands to reason that I would write about it a lot. But I do do other things, too! Like swim. And play in the college band even though I'm far removed from the college scene. And pretend to celebrate Hanukkah because my husband thinks it's weird that I grew up opening family gifts on Christmas Eve and Santa gifts on Christmas Day (more than one day for opening gifts... get it? I'm not actually Jewish). So maybe I should write about those more? Yeah!
So yeah. I'll try to be around more. But I can't promise anything more than that, because honestly, my everyday life isn't all that exciting, let alone exciting enough to write about it. I'll try to change that!
So yeah. I'll try to be around more. But I can't promise anything more than that, because honestly, my everyday life isn't all that exciting, let alone exciting enough to write about it. I'll try to change that!
November 25, 2011
Stuff
It's Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, and I'm tired. Although I'm not a Black Friday shopper normally, I did come across some good sales on things I was looking to get anyway, so I spent some time online in the wee hours of the morning shopping. It would have gone quicker and smoother had the vendors' checkout system not crashed. But it got fixed and I got my stuff. I'm super excited about it, too. :) No. You can't know what I got... there are people who read this blog whose Christmas gifts would be spoiled if I told. But trust me. It's awesome!
Thanksgiving went well. It was me, DH & 2 other friends. DH & I cooked. And I must say, my turkey came out really well. I zested an orange, mixed it with a stick of softened butter, and then slathered it on. Then I sprinkled dried rosemary and black pepper on top. As more flavoring, I quartered the zested orange and quartered an onion and stuffed it all inside (I stuffed before I lathered the butter on... way less mess). Chicken broth was the liquid of choice in the pan. Although I don't eat the skin so didn't taste the orange, the meat was super moist and flavorful. If I keep this up, I'm going to be forced to cook the turkey every holiday (up until last Christmas, DH and/or my FIL did the holiday cooking... and it was good).
In other news, I chipped the corner of one of my front bottom teeth while I was sleeping. Don't know how it happened, but I vaguely remember feeling the chipped part on my tongue, and picking it off and putting it on my nightstand. It's not visible since it's on the bottom, and it doesn't hurt. So I'd considered not bothering to go have it fixed. But my DH wisely pointed out that while it's not a problem now, it likely will be in the future, so why not get it fixed now? Good point. I knew there was a reason why I married him... he's all logical and stuff.
Thanksgiving went well. It was me, DH & 2 other friends. DH & I cooked. And I must say, my turkey came out really well. I zested an orange, mixed it with a stick of softened butter, and then slathered it on. Then I sprinkled dried rosemary and black pepper on top. As more flavoring, I quartered the zested orange and quartered an onion and stuffed it all inside (I stuffed before I lathered the butter on... way less mess). Chicken broth was the liquid of choice in the pan. Although I don't eat the skin so didn't taste the orange, the meat was super moist and flavorful. If I keep this up, I'm going to be forced to cook the turkey every holiday (up until last Christmas, DH and/or my FIL did the holiday cooking... and it was good).
In other news, I chipped the corner of one of my front bottom teeth while I was sleeping. Don't know how it happened, but I vaguely remember feeling the chipped part on my tongue, and picking it off and putting it on my nightstand. It's not visible since it's on the bottom, and it doesn't hurt. So I'd considered not bothering to go have it fixed. But my DH wisely pointed out that while it's not a problem now, it likely will be in the future, so why not get it fixed now? Good point. I knew there was a reason why I married him... he's all logical and stuff.
November 19, 2011
RE visit #3
Sorry, this one will be long. A lot went on in this visit.
Seven days after RE visit #2, I went in for an hysterosalpingogram (HSG) on CD10. This is an x-ray that takes a look at the insides of the uterus and fallopian tubes to make sure there aren't any blockages in the tubes and/or to check to make sure the uterus is properly formed and are no problems within like polyps or a septate (separated uterus). They must take place after you're done with AF, but absolutely no later than CD10. The doctors operate under the assumption that any day after that, you could be pregnant.
And at the same appointment, DH was to submit a semen analysis (SA), and after that, we were to have a fertility drug consult. So fun times were to be had by all this day.
To prepare myself for the HSG, I read up on the procedure and read other women's stories about their experiences. And I read some horrible accounts that made me more than a little nervous for it. But by the same token, there were women who had no problems whatsoever. I really hoped I fell into this latter group.
So the day came, a bitter cold February morning, and DH & I drove the 100 miles to the hospital where the HSG was to take place. We were directed to the radiology department, which happened to be in the sketchy-looking basement. It didn't help my nerves. But we got in the room and I was told to undress totally, except for my socks if I wanted to keep them on. I was given a gown to wear. DH was allowed to stay and watch, so he got suited up in lead. He was definitely more excited about this than I was.
I get up on the table and position myself kinda like I was going in for a pap. The RE inserted a special balloon catheter up my lady parts, and proceeded to inject the contrast dye. I was told that I might feel some mild cramping from the balloon. It took just a few more seconds before I started to feel them. They felt like normal PMS cramps, and I thought that's as bad as they would get.
In the meantime, the dye is shooting up my uterus and into the fallopian tubes. As I could see the dye spilling into my abdominal cavity (which is normal), I was told that there were no blockages in my tubes, and that my uterus looked good. Yay! DH thought it was the coolest thing to see the dye work its way up and show the shape of my inner lady parts. It was pretty cool, I admit.
But at that point, I wasn't paying that much attention anymore. Because my normal PMS cramps turned into the cramps from hell. Like, I seriously thought my uterus was trying to make a break for it and was trying to take my ovaries, too. And to cap it all off, when I got off the table to go change in the bathroom, the nurse hands me a diaper-sized maxi pad. Without wings. It's to catch the dye that comes back down with gravity, as well as the spotting that was created by the procedure. Awesome.
So after I change, we leave and go to the fertility clinic for DH's SA. He went in and did his thing, which he wasn't too excited about, but I reminded him that out of everything going on this day, he gets off easy (pun not intended). All the while, I patiently sit and wait for my uterus to stop rebelling and for my Advil to kick in. Didn't happen. Then after he came back out, we went into a another room for the consult.
The nurse basically talked about the 1st-tier drugs that don't require a lot of money... which basically was metformin and clomid. She didn't think metformin would work for me for whatever reason (HA! Totally wrong), so she really tried to push clomid. The thing is, when this clinic prescribes clomid, they require monitoring and they require you to use an injection of another drug ($$$) to induce ovulation. So while the drug itself is pretty cheap, it's not cheap when you add in those other things.
Because monitoring means 1) driving 200 miles roundtrip, at least twice, sometimes up to 4 times in order to 2) get a transvaginal ultrasound to see how your follicles are developing. So when you add up gas money, time away from work, multiple ultrasound costs, the cost of the inject, as well as any charges you may incur by seeing the doctor, well... just one clomid cycle would cost at least $500. And that's only assuming I have to go twice. Insurance would pick up a lot of it, but it still was uncomfortably expensive for something I would likely have to do for many cycles.
Anyway, I'm getting away from the consult. She went through a few things, but we were both super super leery of drugs, so we left without any prescription. So then we went to do some shopping since we were in a city with actual places to shop at. I had to sit in the car in the mall parking lot with my pants unbuttoned and unzipped for a good 20 minutes. I finally sucked it up and took MORE Advil and was praying to God that a total of 4 would do the trick. It did. I almost cried when they went away after about 2 hours. After that, I was able to enjoy the shopping.
The overall result of this day was: my tubes were clear, my uterus looked good, DH's SA came back normal and we decided to hold off on drugs.
And here's my advice if anyone finds themselves having to do an HSG... take 2 Advil before the procedure, and if needed, take 2 after the procedure. Also know that you might spot and lightly cramp for about the next week, and unless you want an old skool maxi pad supplied by the hospital, bring one of your own. Doctors don't tell you that. But maybe my reaction to the procedure was one of the more extreme. But it's better to be prepared than not prepared at all.
And thus is the end of our experiences at the RE. Just a month later, I was laid off and lost my insurance with infertility coverage, so going back just isn't financially feasible. So we're still just going on with hope and patience... and a little help from drugs. I can't say it enough, I love metformin!
Seven days after RE visit #2, I went in for an hysterosalpingogram (HSG) on CD10. This is an x-ray that takes a look at the insides of the uterus and fallopian tubes to make sure there aren't any blockages in the tubes and/or to check to make sure the uterus is properly formed and are no problems within like polyps or a septate (separated uterus). They must take place after you're done with AF, but absolutely no later than CD10. The doctors operate under the assumption that any day after that, you could be pregnant.
And at the same appointment, DH was to submit a semen analysis (SA), and after that, we were to have a fertility drug consult. So fun times were to be had by all this day.
To prepare myself for the HSG, I read up on the procedure and read other women's stories about their experiences. And I read some horrible accounts that made me more than a little nervous for it. But by the same token, there were women who had no problems whatsoever. I really hoped I fell into this latter group.
So the day came, a bitter cold February morning, and DH & I drove the 100 miles to the hospital where the HSG was to take place. We were directed to the radiology department, which happened to be in the sketchy-looking basement. It didn't help my nerves. But we got in the room and I was told to undress totally, except for my socks if I wanted to keep them on. I was given a gown to wear. DH was allowed to stay and watch, so he got suited up in lead. He was definitely more excited about this than I was.
I get up on the table and position myself kinda like I was going in for a pap. The RE inserted a special balloon catheter up my lady parts, and proceeded to inject the contrast dye. I was told that I might feel some mild cramping from the balloon. It took just a few more seconds before I started to feel them. They felt like normal PMS cramps, and I thought that's as bad as they would get.
In the meantime, the dye is shooting up my uterus and into the fallopian tubes. As I could see the dye spilling into my abdominal cavity (which is normal), I was told that there were no blockages in my tubes, and that my uterus looked good. Yay! DH thought it was the coolest thing to see the dye work its way up and show the shape of my inner lady parts. It was pretty cool, I admit.
But at that point, I wasn't paying that much attention anymore. Because my normal PMS cramps turned into the cramps from hell. Like, I seriously thought my uterus was trying to make a break for it and was trying to take my ovaries, too. And to cap it all off, when I got off the table to go change in the bathroom, the nurse hands me a diaper-sized maxi pad. Without wings. It's to catch the dye that comes back down with gravity, as well as the spotting that was created by the procedure. Awesome.
So after I change, we leave and go to the fertility clinic for DH's SA. He went in and did his thing, which he wasn't too excited about, but I reminded him that out of everything going on this day, he gets off easy (pun not intended). All the while, I patiently sit and wait for my uterus to stop rebelling and for my Advil to kick in. Didn't happen. Then after he came back out, we went into a another room for the consult.
The nurse basically talked about the 1st-tier drugs that don't require a lot of money... which basically was metformin and clomid. She didn't think metformin would work for me for whatever reason (HA! Totally wrong), so she really tried to push clomid. The thing is, when this clinic prescribes clomid, they require monitoring and they require you to use an injection of another drug ($$$) to induce ovulation. So while the drug itself is pretty cheap, it's not cheap when you add in those other things.
Because monitoring means 1) driving 200 miles roundtrip, at least twice, sometimes up to 4 times in order to 2) get a transvaginal ultrasound to see how your follicles are developing. So when you add up gas money, time away from work, multiple ultrasound costs, the cost of the inject, as well as any charges you may incur by seeing the doctor, well... just one clomid cycle would cost at least $500. And that's only assuming I have to go twice. Insurance would pick up a lot of it, but it still was uncomfortably expensive for something I would likely have to do for many cycles.
Anyway, I'm getting away from the consult. She went through a few things, but we were both super super leery of drugs, so we left without any prescription. So then we went to do some shopping since we were in a city with actual places to shop at. I had to sit in the car in the mall parking lot with my pants unbuttoned and unzipped for a good 20 minutes. I finally sucked it up and took MORE Advil and was praying to God that a total of 4 would do the trick. It did. I almost cried when they went away after about 2 hours. After that, I was able to enjoy the shopping.
The overall result of this day was: my tubes were clear, my uterus looked good, DH's SA came back normal and we decided to hold off on drugs.
And here's my advice if anyone finds themselves having to do an HSG... take 2 Advil before the procedure, and if needed, take 2 after the procedure. Also know that you might spot and lightly cramp for about the next week, and unless you want an old skool maxi pad supplied by the hospital, bring one of your own. Doctors don't tell you that. But maybe my reaction to the procedure was one of the more extreme. But it's better to be prepared than not prepared at all.
And thus is the end of our experiences at the RE. Just a month later, I was laid off and lost my insurance with infertility coverage, so going back just isn't financially feasible. So we're still just going on with hope and patience... and a little help from drugs. I can't say it enough, I love metformin!
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