Day 21

I got my blood test results back today. 8.5 on the Day 21 Progesterone Check. The doctor wasn't happy. They weren't happy 2 cycles ago when they were 10.5, and last month they doubled the meds when the came back at 7.5. So... Fertility Specialist scheduled for October 15. If this doctor doesn't work out, then I have to drive 2 hours either to Omaha or Iowa City to find another specialist.
There is a small chance that we conceived since I did see a positive test result, but it's unlikely. Ugh! Why can't this just be easy? 
At least the doctor prescribed another round of fertility drugs so at least I won't feel useless next cycle.

And we have Lift off!

Each test was photographed at the 5 minute wait mark... you can get a false positive result if you wait too long. I just assembled the "graph" myself for a comparative view.

Well... this is what my ovulation looks like. And I love the fact that if I didn't conceive this cycle, that I have a visual to take into whichever doctor I see, be it fertility specialist or OB-GYN.

That being said, I'm glad that I go these Wondfo tests. Because for once, I can See what's happening. And I can compare it with my temperature. Which has always been an incredibly confusing part for me. For example: On test day 1, my temp was 96.6 (about average for me.) On test day 4, it was 97.3, a big jump for me, so I thought that my ovulation was bad. When I did Test 5, I honestly thought it was going to be a bust. But to my surprise, it was the most clear Positive (+) result I had ever seen on an ovulation test, including when I was pregnant with Weston. My temp incidentally was 97.9, so it was constantly going up. On day 6, with a faint test line, which does not count as a positive, I held the 97.9 temperature. Day 6 was the day that Ovulation was predicted by the numbers. So, if I hadn't been testing, I may have missed more chances. Today, with a negative result, my temperature was 98.1, practically a fever to my body. 

(On a fiscal note 7 ovulation tests run about $15-20 on the shelf. That's an average of about $2.45 each. These Wondfo tests run about $0.28 each. I think it's worth it.)

So... Progesterone Blood Tests one week from today. We'll see how everything went.

On a personal note - wait, this entire blog is a huge personal note - anyway, I went to a Pure Romance bachelorette party Saturday night. And I spent some money... but the point is, I got some of the "Just Like Me" water-based, ph balanced lubricant. There, I said it. I got some assistance. And it helped out a lot. Having something to fall back on when TTC on a planned schedule was a total relief. And it added a little romance to our night. Which was a welcome change. ;) 

(TMI, I know.)

test results and tears...

Khloe Kardashian with her niece Penelope Disick

Last night my sister and I watched the latest episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians on E!. (We love this show. It's great entertainment. Say anything you want, we'll still watch it.) Anyway, on this episode, Kim talks her younger, married sister Khloe into visiting a fertility specialist. Kim saw how her fertility decreases with every passing year. They both went through tests that normal people don't see on the first, or even second and third, visit. It was discovered that Khloe, who has been married for 3 years to NBA baller, Lamar Odem, isn't ovulating. She has too much of one of the multiple hormones that can affect fertility. More tests to follow.

I remember that feeling. I was close to her age the first time I sat in that chair. And I just started crying for her. For the road she and her husband will have to travel. For the strain it will cause between her and her family. And also for the feelings she must have when she holds her sister's children, her friends' children. And I ache for the horrible way that the Public Eye will be on her.

So... I'm in the middle of Cycle 9, Femara Cycle 3, Day 11 today. I've doubled my dosage to 5.5mg. So, I've been taking Ovulation tests all week. And I don't think I am ovulating. My temp rose today, 1 full degree. Usually that means that I have already ovulated. But none of my tests show a distinct positive line.  So... I will test until Monday, 3 more days of peeing in a cup. I also am wondering if the husband and I shouldn't do some counselling? I think we need to find a way to talk to each other. I've tried face to face. Today, I tried text message. I don't think he understands where I'm at. I think Fertility is worse than Money when it comes to stress in a marriage. So... that's my venting for today. I'm headed back to the Fertility Specialist by all appearances. We'll figure it out. Maybe.

I Remember... too much

National September 11 Memorial & Museum

Today is 11th Anniversary of the 9/11 Attacks on our country, the United States of America. 19 al-Qaeda terrorists hijacked 4 US airplanes with the intent of suicide-bombing said planes into 4 American landmarks - the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in New York City, the US Pentagon, and the US Capitol building, both in Washington DC. They succeeded in targeting the first 3 locations, but the passengers of United Airlines flight 93 attempted to retake control of their plane, and the plane crashed into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. Nearly 3,000 people died in the attacks, including the 246 civilians and 19 hijackers aboard the four planes. The NY attacks crippled lower Manhattan and tested the entire nation. 
But today, on this anniversary, I am seeing reminders everywhere of this attack. And it's true, we should never forget. But the common theme I am seeing is: "Where were you?" 9/11 has become a point of clarity in the timeline of our existence. Everyone of a certain age will be able to tell you exactly what they were doing, who they were with, maybe even what they were wearing. This impacted (or should have) every citizen of the USA and many others around the world. But it starts me thinking too. Growing up, I remember my grandparents knowing where they were on "D-Day" and my parents knowing exactly who they were with when the Beetles crashed into America, when President Kennedy was shot, when it was announced that Elvis died. These pop-culture moments define a generation. And sadly some tragedies span almost the entire world.
So... with my odd sense of clarity and the ability to remember everything, here are the points of my timeline when I can remember exactly where I was, and who I was with:

 Space Shuttle Challenger Disaster
I remember January 28, 1986 with so much clarity that at 32 years old I am shocked to think I was just 6 years old and in Kindergarten. I did the math on paper. I was in Kindergarten. For many years, I always pictured Mrs. Dixon's 1st grade class, but looking back, I wonder if maybe that was something we saw on tv for the 1st anniversary. But I digress. 

NASA Shuttle Challenger breaks apart, killing all 7 on board.

We lived on the Mayport Naval Air Station in Jacksonville, Florida. It was so cold that winter. It had actually snowed in Florida - confusing everyone but those of us who had spent Christmas in Iowa. I remember walking into the family room that morning, and it was still pitch black outside. Grandma had the tv on, set to the NASA channel (which I am sure was something along the lines of PBS.) She'd had it on for hours, watching the launch prep. Grandma kept saying that they (NASA) were going to scrub the launch. I asked her what that meant. She said that it meant they were going to cancel it, maybe move it to another day. I asked why and and she replied that it was too cold. I looked at the tv, and I could  see the icicles actually hanging off the shuttle and launch equipment, even with steam coming out of the engines, there was ice everywhere. We kept watching the launch prep and the ice through breakfast - until we left for school. I've later learned that it was 18 degrees outside at launch time, around 11am. For the details of what exactly happened, check it out  here .
thinking back, I don't actually remember seeing the explosion in my Kindergarten class room, I don't even remember a tv. I know that we all watched the launches on the local channel, but my Kindergarten class was in a portable class room, like a 1 room house on a platform off the ground outside of the actual school building (1 had 3 such classrooms in 3 different schools, K, 2nd, and 3rd grades) so it's possible we weren't wired for television. It was a traumatizing event to say the least. The Space program was a huge part of life in Florida, as well as being a military family living on base. This was the first national tragedy to impact my small 6 yr old world. I firmly remember watching what had to have been a replay of the explosion in Mrs. Dixon's 1st grade class room at Mayport Elementary (inside the main building that year.) Someone made a stupid, rude comment, and the entire class received punishment (all standing and holding our arms out like a crucifixion until the viewing ended.) Obviously that's why it's burned into my mind. On the 25th anniversary of the disaster, MSN gave a report on the top 7 Myths regarding the tragedy, and the number one is that many people never saw the actual crash live. (it's a great article, check it out here.) My Mom and my grandma watched it live though on the NASA channel. The entire time my grandma kept saying that it was too cold, why didn't they cancel the launch?

My Elvis or JFK - 
It was a Friday or Saturday night (I can't remember), specifically August 31, 1997. I went to Pizza Hut with my girl friends for dinner. I remember having an excruciating headache, and being thoroughly annoyed with a few of the girls. After dinner, I said I was sick and I went home. I remember crawling up the 17 stairs to my bedroom, getting into my jammies, and crawling into bed with the lights off. I had the TV on, with MTV on (it was 1997, MTV still played videos.) I drifted in a state of headache induced semi-consciousness. I was woken up by the "Breaking News" music. I opened my eyes and saw Kurt Loder of MTV News floating in the darkness. What he was saying seemed like a dream. Impossible and unreal, yet they were showing pictures - Diana, former Princess of Wales, had been in a terrible car crash in France. Was she dead? Was she just injured? I remember praying that she was just injured, all the while knowing that she was gone. The images of the accident were just too bad. For a pretty good account of the entire tragedy, check out Wikipedia here.

Princess Diana of Wale

This was the first death of one of my "heroes." I can't believe that it's been 15 years since this happened! I grew up watching Diana become a Princess. She looked so shy and innocent, and as I grew up I watched her blossom into an amazing, strong woman. She left the Prince of England! She took her own life into her own hands. She was an amazing mother, woman, and humanitarian. I was in awe of her. I thought that we could have been great friends - she would laugh at my jokes, and would share some of her grace and style with me. And like every American girl, I dreamed of  becoming a princess. (Prince William wasn't that much younger than me.) And my heart ached when it was announced that she hadn't survived the accident.
Like my mother before me, I had lost a cultural icon. She has told me exactly where she was when President Kennedy was assassinated; my aunt remembers where she was when Elvis' death was announced. I remember the death of a Princess. Let me tell you the ending of that night: I tried to find my friends. They weren't at any of their homes, and this was long before we all had cell phones. I left messages with all of their moms. I sat in my room in the dark watching every minute of the story unfolding, flipping between MTV and all the other news broadcasts. I remember someone coming into my room (mainly the light from the hall cutting into my darkness as the door opened) but I can't tell you who it was. I remember my bff Anousha calling me from her home, and we watched the news unfold together via the telephone. There were tons of memorials and shows... but nothing affected me as much as the original broadcast with Kurt Loder, not even the sight of her 2 young princes walking quietly behind her funeral procession.

September 11, 2001
 Last year I tried I tried to acknowledge the 10th Anniversary of this horrible tragedy. And I couldn't write the post. I tried to avoid all of the media attention, and it was just impossible. It overwhelmed me and flooded into every part of my day. And I cried. and cried. and cried. But I think that I am ready:
It was a Tuesday in the very beginning of my senior year at Drake University here in Des Moines. I am pretty sure that I had class that day. I tended to bank all my classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays so I could work full time Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I was living alone in my little apartment on Vine Ave. in West Des Moines. Per my usual morning ritual, the first thing I do is turn on the TV to the TODAY show. So... on goes the tv and I start going about the business of getting ready. And then I heard some sort of ruckus and screaming coming from the tv. I ran out of the bathroom in just a t-shirt and this is what I saw:

United Airlines flight 175 preparing to crash into the South Tower of the World Trade Center, 9/11/01.

I don't even think that the TODAY show was aware what they were showing. They were just as dumbfounded as the rest of us by what was happening. It was like we were all in the room with the anchors. They didn't speak coherently or professionally at first. They were just normal people struck by the horror that they were witnessing. My knees gave out and I landed awkwardly on my couch. I just stared as the 2nd plane circled the towers. The news anchors kept saying that a plane had crashed into the North Tower. I think that they were just as shocked as we were when the 2nd plane crashed into the South Tower. I jumped off the couch and grabbed my phone and dialed my friend Brandy.

My view from my West Des Moines, IA, couch, 9/11/01

Brandy was asleep; I don't think she had class as early as I did that morning. I freaked her out and told her to turn on her tv. And we sat in shocked silence watching the events in Manhattan unfold. For the grand story, complete with details, here you go.
I have no idea when I left my couch. I didn't go to my classes that morning. I vaguely remember going to my Painting class in the afternoon - it started at 2pm. We didn't paint. We just sat on the roof in the sunshine for 2 hours and talked while someone had a radio of the news on. This was the time before iPhones, iPads and constant streaming data. We were in the island of Iowa. Our painting instructor was a chain-smoking free spirit. This shock or realization seemed to hit her pretty hard. We spent 2 hours trying to hold her together before she smoked herself right off the roof.

I literally watched this happen on live television. I was supposed to be in class.

The coverage of this disaster lasted continuously for what seemed like weeks. It's such a present thought in my mind that I can't believe 11 years have passed. 3000+ children lost a parent, some both parents, on that tragic day. I learned that a Newton, Iowa, woman was widowed in the attack when her husband was in a hotel across from the North Tower for business. The North Tower collapsed on him and the firemen surrounding him as they waited for instructions. Many more have died since that day due to illnesses related to the massive smoke/debris clouds that covered New York City as the towers fell, as well as the survivor search and rescue and the cleanup operations once it was determined that no survivors remained. This terrorist attack has remained in the hearts and minds of an entire country for 11 years. Finally in May of this year, President Obama authorized a Navy Seal mission that resulted in the capture (and death) of al Qaeda's mastermind, Osama bin Laden. Along with many of his henchmen captured and killed over the years since 9/11, I think that the demise of bin Laden and his compound has helped this country to heal. I hope that it has helped the 3000+ families of these victims to heal as well.
I'm not sure how to end this post... But I feel like saying that I have a wicked memory. I remember some moments with such clarity that it's like I am there all over again. Other things just disappear slowly with time. For instance, I remember most of the day of 9/11/01. But I can't tell you which classes I missed that morning. I know for a fact that it was my original senior year (I had to take an extra semester in the Fall of 2002 to complete some course requirements from the basic undergrad program.) That means I should have had my Senior Magazines class, though I don't remember us publishing anything about 9/11, let alone discussing it as a group. So, take this post with a grain of salt if you will. It's really just about my memories of the big timeline events of the world that affected me, decades after the fact.

Babies, Babies, and More Babies in a TTC Haze

We are being surrounded by babies! 

My sister’s friend Dee is expecting her second child, a son named Otis to join his sister Elleanor, this October. My local bestie is expecting her first at the end of January 2013. And two more of our sorority sisters, including one of my former roommates, are expecting babies the first week of February. Additionally one of my co-workers, the son of our owner, and his wife are also expecting baby #2 at the end of January. And add to that our nephew Jeremy and his wife Charlie, are expecting their first baby around March 4^th; and we just found out that Jeremy’s sister Tasha and her husband are expecting baby #4 around March 1^st. That’s the potential for two 1^st cousin-babies on the same day. 

By my count, that’s 7 babies before the second week of March. Wow. Talk about a baby boom.

That being said, none of these babies are ours. And I have at least 2 other friends that are also TTC with little luck. I’m so happy for our friends and family. And it’s easier this time to deal with everyone around me being pregnant. But the little green-eyed monster is still poking at my heart. I am still a little bit jealous of all these pregnant women around me. I loved being pregnant – that is, when I wasn’t scared to death about something going wrong. But I can happily say that I am no where near the blind-with-jealousy-crazy-weepy-witch I was for the 3 years until Weston’s conception. Thank Goodness for everyone who loves me. I’m lucky. Anytime I start feel jealous, I take one long look at Weston. Our miracle boy can cure jealousy – either by being so adorable or by being a typical mad little guy. Either way, I’m distracted by him.

So… we’re not pregnant. What happened? What does it all mean? Well, since I know some are new to this, and my blog, I’ll try to be as blunt as possible. If you have questions, let me know. I’ll do my best to answer them.

1. I like it how I say, “we’re not pregnant.” What I really mean is, “I’m not pregnant.” Yeah, it’s a shared experience, but the ups and downs of hormones and moods and emotions are inside ME. Granted they sometimes spill over and affect my husband, but trust me, he has no clue how much worse it is to be inside my head, body, and heart. I’m the one hiding the pain, guilt, and shame from everyone around me. As well as the entire process from my new employer- it feels like “wives” have babies at this company, not employees (I am one of 2 women of child-bearing age employed here.)
2.  Cycle 2 of the fertility drug Femera was a bust.
   On Femera-cycle one (TTC Cycle #7), my progesterone level was measured at 10.5 on my Day 21 blood test. (Based on cycles – you take the fertility drugs on cycle days 3-7 to help ovulation. Ovulation generally occurs around cycle days 9-11. You can “see” if ovulation occurred based on Progesterone levels on cycle Day 21.) The nurse told me that they prefer a count over 11, but 10.5 was close enough that I probably ovulated. I obviously didn’t conceive. I had my 21 day blood draw last Thursday for Femera-cycle #2. I forgot to call and get the results on Friday. I wish I had. I could have spent the weekend drinking with Scott’s family. Anyway, with the Labor Day holiday, I couldn’t call until Tuesday morning. And by Tuesday morning, I knew that Femera-cycle 2 was a bust – I had already started my period. But I was still interested in the results. And they were discouraging – only a 7.5. The nurse said that ovulation was possible. I asked how when last month I was told they wanted me over 11. No answer. She called back and told me that the doctor wanted to double the dosage of Femera. Cycle Day 3 is today… my alarm goes off at 10am to remind me to take the 2 small pills.
3.  So… there’s a lot of planning that goes into conception. I take my temperature first thing every morning (on the theory that your temp goes up at ovulation, mine isn't clear yet.) I use the iPhone app “iPeriod” to track every single detail of my cycle. I’ve purchased from Amazon.com some medical grade Ovulation Predictor Kits and Pregnancy Tests, a brand called Wondfo, 40 ovulation tests + 10 pregnancy tests for about $14. (A great deal if you’ve made some of the commercial-grade purchases.) These are the hard-core TTC tests – there are no pretty applicators and you have to pee in a cup to test. Mine should be here by Monday.
   Also – trying to have sex on a schedule sucks. It’s not romantic. It’s work. Usually it’s fun. But when you are having sex every 36 hours, and you’re going away for the weekend… sometimes a forced “quickie” before daycare pickup becomes essential – and that was the hardest one for us. Me especially. This was the most emotionless start-up in our history. I need to work on that.
4. This is our last shot for a semi-normal conception. If this doesn’t work, we will be referred to Mid Iowa Fertility. I did not have a good experience there when we were TTC Weston. I had to make all of the decisions without being informed. I had to do all the research into the possible problems with me. I did all the tests that they wanted, but never seemed to find an answer. Finally, I had a “Come-to-Jesus” meeting with the millionaire doctor who was responsible for the future of my family. He would not help me; he kept asking what I wanted to do. I told him “that he doesn’t make hundreds of thousands of dollars a year to have me make the choices for him. That’s why he went to school.” It was humiliating to be put into that situation. Since I had a feeling that I had Endometriosis, I made the decision to undergo a surgical Laparoscopy. And I was right. (Not that any doctor in the previous 4 years had listened to me.) During that surgery all of the endometrial adhesions were removed. And even though Mid Iowa Fertility told me that I had not ovulated the cycle immediately following the surgery (“You didn’t ovulate, and even if you had, we would be able to see the egg traveling, and it’s not there. There is nothing.”) I actually did ovulate, and conceived Weston. Miracle Baby part 1.
   So… if we do not conceive this cycle, and are sent back to Mid Iowa Fertility (our only Fertility Specialist Clinic) we will be asking for the other doctor. I hope it doesn’t come to this.

Ok… so that’s where I am today: Cycle Day 3 of Femera-Cycle 3 of TTC-cycle 9 – a lot to remember, I know.

But there are some fun parts of TTC – Names!!! Scott will not be more active than voicing a yes or no response to a name I say. He will not look at books or websites until we’ve conceived. But he’ll play a game in the car on long trips with my sister and I… we go through the alphabet and name one name for a boy and girl for each letter. And then we discuss. Anything worth keeping gets added to the list. My favorite name site right now is Nameberry. It’s all about names, and its super fun. There are others, like Baby Zone and Baby Center, but they contain everything about being a parent. Nameberry is strictly names until you enter the discussion forums. (I've found some great things in the forums, like the Wondfo tests.) Last night’s blog of the day came from a forum thread about favorite names from A-Z. It was a lot of fun to see what other people chose. How traditional some were versus how many picked unusual names, to how many liked the same name I thought were creative and unique to me. So… to end this, here’s my A-Z list:

 Girl/Boy

A: Anastasia/Asher
B: Bianca/Beckett
C: Cordelia/Christopher
D: Daphne/Donovan & Dashiell
E: Eden & Emerson/Emmett & Elliot
F: Fiona/Felix
G: Greyson/Gideon
H: Haven & Holland/Holden & Harper
I: Ivy/Iain
J: Jillian/Jackson
K: Katherine/Keegan
L: Lucie/Liam
M: Mollie & Myka/Mercer
N: Naomi/Nathaniel
O: Olivia/Oliver
P: Penelope/Parker
Q: Quinn/?
R: Romy/Rhys
S: Sutton/Sebastian
T: Tabitha/Tobias
U: n/a
V: Valentina/?
W: Waverly/Weston (of course) & William (nn Liam)
X: Xavia/Xavier
Y: n/a
Z: Zoey & Zara/Zane

The funny thing is... a lot of the girls and boys names sound alike int he same letter: Emerson & Emmett, Xavia & Xavier, Olivia & Oliver. Other than the "E"s, I like the male version better. And some names I like because they are children in my life, or names friends and family are set on... not names I'd choose for myself. Right now, I am loving Eden and Sebastian... but that could change with a little (+) on a test. ;)

the Realm of Possibilities and Other Observances

So… this is going to be a different sort of post than the previous “Greatest Loves,” but I am still counting it as #5 - top of the list. Here we go:

Weston Christopher Jones, Age 4

My Greatest love is my children… I know that I should say my child, because it’s true: I only have one child - at this moment in time. Weston Christopher Jones turned 4 years old exactly at 6:02 pm, on July 31, 2012. His was a long, hard, overwhelming delivery. And you can read the 3 or 4 posts regarding those 36 hours here. But I digress.

 I said Children. It was never my intention to only have one child. I wanted 4 when I was a child myself. 3 wasn’t ideal, with one always being the odd one out (ask my brother and sister) – though 3 children + 2 parents makes a great family picture set up. And 2 children seemed too few – what if they didn’t get along? Then there weren’t any other options. Only children seemed different, and such a small family. So, 4 children seemed perfect- more than 3, and even number, blah blah blah.

But now? Now we’ve waited too long. We didn’t mean to. I mean, when you start having the “family” talk as a couple you throw out numbers and age differences, names and who you hope they look like. We you’re TTC (Trying To Conceive for those of you Fertile Myrtles out there who don’t have the fertility lingo down) you and the Husband start talking about just having 1 baby, and maybe if your lucky enough, planning the next one so they aren’t too close together, and you aren’t buying 2 sets of diapers, so 2-3 years apart.

And then… And then LIFE happens. The next thing you know, you are throwing your “baby’s” 4^th birthday party, realizing that he starts Kindergarten next year. OMG. He’s become an Only Child. The only thing I didn’t want.

I sat realizing that we hadn’t even thought about it. Not really. It was never the right time. How did this happen? My sister and I figured out a few things:

1. Mom got Cancer. We all lost about 2 years with that life-consuming bastard of a disease. It was always a life or death battle, finding time to think about more kids never really came up.
2. We lost (sold, but it was still a loss to us) our house; and moved into the apartment. This apartment has always been a place to stay, but never a home. I still haven’t unpacked. The thought of adding a baby to this is not what we wanted. Weston wished for grass and a yard last week. I almost burst into tears. I don’t know how to make it happen. I just don’t. But I know that I don’t want to raise my kids in this apartment.
3. Birth Control. Let me explain this one… I have been on super-high-dose (clinical term) birth control for 4 years. I have Endometriosis. This is what caused our infertility the first time around. By taking continuous doses of birth control (3 packages in a row to be exact) the hormones convince the Endometriosis not to grow. (The thought of getting pregnant to stop it from growing being the one thing that’s hard to do when you have Endometriosis. The irony is not lost on me.) Little did I know that these high doses of birth control pretty much killed my sex drive. I just thought that I was tired and married and in my 30s. Um… yes, yes, and yes – but I was still supposed to want sex. Good thing my sex drive resurfaced after months off the pills. (TMI - I know.)

So… we’re officially TTC. Again. I consulted with my OB at my appointment last year. It was decided to give my body 6 cycles au natural before looking at all the options. Suffice it to say – I am not pregnant. So, for the last two cycles I have been back on fertility drugs. Back to scheduling our encounters trying to avoid a 4 yr old in the process. Back to taking my temperature every morning and monitoring everything about, well about me. And back to the monthly blood tests. We have one more month of this before I am referred to a fertility specialist again. I’m not sure that I can do that again. But we’ll see. Oh! And on top of all the fertility stuff, my OB has left the practice and is moving to the NW United States. So I am in the middle of fertility confusion without my OB.

Sometimes I think that it would be ok to be a small family of 3. We have our routine down. Sort of. 
But then I didn't get pregnant. Not that I expected to quickly, I'd been on birth control for almost 4 years. But I was surprised at how sad and depressed I was when it didn't happen after the first round of fertility meds. I don't know why it affected me so much. But somehow, I just thought it would be easier this time around. And it's not. And that when I start thinking that we should just be happy with what we've been given. Weston's conception and birth were a miracle to us. Shouldn't we be happy with that?
But then I think of the “What Ifs.” What if something happened to Scott or Me? We would only have Weston to remind us of each other. What if something happened to both of us? Weston would be all alone. And there is a special bond between siblings. My sister and I are 4 years apart and we’re best friends. That’s a bond I want my children to have – the bond of someone having the same existence in a closed little world, of loving the same people and pets and places.

So… this post has taken a different turn than I intended. I intended it to be about my love for Weston. How he is just so fascinating and enlightening and logical and both a joy and a devastation depending upon his feelings (of which he has tons.) But this post just grew from somewhere else I guess. I started it back in mid July, so it’s a work of love.

2012

Here’s what’s happened this summer –

• Mom’s leukemia came back in her elbow only. She underwent 12 rounds of radiation, and it’s still exhausting for her. But she will beat this. I know it. And I said so. I had the best talk with mom on the phone last week. It was almost like she was her pre-cancer self. I miss my pre-cancer talks with my mom.
• As mentioned, Weston turned 4 years old with a spectacularly chilly and rainy party at the Union Park Splash Pool – in the middle of a summer drought with 100+ degree temps. Go figure.
• Scott and I didn’t celebrate, but more acknowledged our 10^th Anniversary together. 10 years ago on June 28^th, we met and sparked some interest. 10 years ago on July 22^nd, we had our first (and most spectacular public) kiss in Cherokee. And 10 yrs ago in the middle of the night on August 3^rd or 4^th, we became “official.” It’s unbelievable to think that I have spent almost 1/3 of my life with this man. I love him more than he knows. And I hope we have many, many more decades together.
• Shannon graduated with her Master’s Degree in Social Work in May, and then spent the summer trying to find employment. It was hard on all of us, but she found the perfect position as the School Based Therapist for the high school students in the West Des Moines district through Orchard Place. We’re all so proud of her.
• Oh! And we welcomed a new cousin. Kaitlyn Sophia Stanley was born on July 19^th (the same day as her Dad and Grandma.) She is Scott’s first cousin Troy and his wife Jackie’s first baby. Everyone has waited a long time for her, and she is as beautiful as a baby can be.
• We also found out that Scott and I are going to be a Great Uncle & Aunt. Scott’s nephew (and my former drinking buddy) Jeremy and his wife Charlie are expecting in March. This is very exciting since it’s the first new niece or nephew on that side for me. (The others are between 3 and 18 years old, and we never seem to see the youngest ones. Oh, family drama that isn’t our fault.) We are super excited for this little baby.

That about covers it, I think. I hope to post more frequently. I just don’t like being on the computer much at home.But I do hope that this blog helped someone out there. Infertility is still such a touchy issue for some people. But it seems like it's plaguing my entire generation.

I’m Comic Sans, Asshole.

taken from Timothy McSweeney's "Short Imagined Monologues" series... this is hilarious, especially if you have anything at all to do with Typography or Graphic Design.

I’m Comic Sans, Asshole.

BY Mike Lacher

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Listen up. I know the shit you’ve been saying behind my back. You think I’m stupid. You think I’m immature. You think I’m a malformed, pathetic excuse for a font. Well think again, nerdhole, because I’m Comic Sans, and I’m the best thing to happen to typography since Johannes fucking Gutenberg.

You don’t like that your coworker used me on that note about stealing her yogurt from the break room fridge? You don’t like that I’m all over your sister-in-law’s blog? You don’t like that I’m on the sign for that new Thai place? You think I’m pedestrian and tacky? Guess the fuck what, Picasso. We don’t all have seventy-three weights of stick-up-my-ass Helvetica sitting on our seventeen-inch MacBook Pros. Sorry the entire world can’t all be done in stark Eurotrash Swiss type. Sorry some people like to have fun. Sorry I’m standing in the way of your minimalist Bauhaus-esque fascist snoozefest. Maybe sometime you should take off your black turtleneck, stop compulsively adjusting your Tumblr theme, and lighten the fuck up for once.

People love me. Why? Because I’m fun. I’m the life of the party. I bring levity to any situation. Need to soften the blow of a harsh message about restroom etiquette? SLAM. There I am. Need to spice up the directions to your graduation party? WHAM. There again. Need to convey your fun-loving, approachable nature on your business’ website? SMACK. Like daffodils in motherfucking spring.

When people need to kick back, have fun, and party, I will be there, unlike your pathetic fonts. While Gotham is at the science fair, I’m banging the prom queen behind the woodshop. While Avenir is practicing the clarinet, I’m shredding “Reign In Blood” on my double-necked Stratocaster. While Univers is refilling his allergy prescriptions, I’m racing my tricked-out, nitrous-laden Honda Civic against Tokyo gangsters who’ll kill me if I don’t cross the finish line first. I am a sans serif Superman and my only kryptonite is pretentious buzzkills like you.

It doesn’t even matter what you think. You know why, jagoff? Cause I’m famous. I am on every major operating system since Microsoft fucking Bob. I’m in your signs. I’m in your browsers. I’m in your instant messengers. I’m not just a font. I am a force of motherfucking nature and I will not rest until every uptight armchair typographer cock-hat like you is surrounded by my lovable, comic-book inspired, sans-serif badassery.

Enough of this bullshit. I’m gonna go get hammered with Papyrus.