RenovationGirl

I'm Okay

I'm okay.  Today went well.  The surgery went mostly well (some tearing in the woohoo because I wasn't dilating-a few stitches up there...).  I have more pain for this D&C than I did last year, so this year, I am indulging and taking the per.co.cet.  Woo, it makes me dizzy!

The nurses and phlebotomists and anesthesiologists were all so nice and compassionate.  I got a little teary and the two nurses in the room at the time let me cry for a bit...really the first time I've been able.  It felt good. 

So now, I'm resting.  Eating lots of bad-for-you foods and drinking caffeine...because I can.  :)

Thank you to those who have sent me their prayers and good thoughts.  Let the healing begin!

Yeah, We're Back to This

A colleague peeked her head into my room, "Are you okay?" she said, with a look of concern.

Breathe in, breathe out. 

"Yes, thanks.  I'm okay.  I have to be, right?" I joke.  But the joke falls flat at the feet of someone who knows me and my struggles far better than that.

"Okay, well, if you need to talk..." she waved her hand in that all-encompassing gesture and closed the door behind her.

I sat down and considered the events of the past 45 minutes.  A year ago, I would be trying to hold back the tears, my stomach churning, my heart throbbing in my chest, and in my abdomen...emptiness.  But now, a year or so later, I just sit pensively, slightly irritated, a bit out of breath, but otherwise, fine.  Just fine.  Because what choice do I have?

Forty-five minutes before this, a young colleague of mine, still practically a newlywed, caught me as I was literally running out of the faculty room, late for my class as usual.  I had just run down to grab a calming cup of tea, reheated for the third time, to help me make it through this next energetic, yet lovable group of teens.  Today we would be discussing the ending of Macbeth and they were eager to get started.  (Ahem,okay, allow me this little bit of fiction-of course they were not eager...)  "Renovation Girl?" I paused mid-stride and turned around.  "I've started to announce it so I wanted to tell you personally..."

My heart lurched.  You all know where this is headed.  If you're infertile, you've been here before, standing in my shoes as time stops and you wonder, "How will I get through it this time?" She cracked a smile and giggled, "I'm having a baby!" and then she searched my face in concern, wondering how this old, infertile body would respond.  "Funny," I thought to myself, "I'm wondering how I will respond, too."

Cue the theater degree...House lights dim to a fuzzy brown, the thick, red velvet curtains slowly part to reveal a foggy stage.  As the fog clears, you begin to see the shape of a woman, clearly broken, but standing still, looking straight ahead, a non-committal smile plastered on her face.

"OH, colleague!!!!!" I said, running over to her.  "That's wonderful!  This is wonderful, isn't it?" She nods an enthusiastic, "Yes!"  I hug her.  "We'll have to talk later because I'm a late for class, but I can't wait to hear all about it! Congratulations!!!!"

I exhale slowly as I now walk gingerly to my classroom. 

This time the announcement affects me differently.  I normally focus on the  baby that will come...the sweet smell of sleeping baby, the soft skin that nuzzles your neck, the first smiles and giggles, watching the wonder of life unfold through your baby's eyes.  But this time, as I walk away from my glowing colleague, it's the pregnancy that I miss.  I miss the flutters of movement.  The swooshing of the heartbeat on the ultrasound screen.  The way I felt productive and fulfilled.  I felt a part of everything around me.  There was life inside me.  And it was amazing.

And now I feel empty. 

In most ways, we have moved on.  I have started to give away some baby things.  We are piling up items to sell.  I am able to get through pregnancy and baby announcements.  I am able to see a newborn without fighting tears. When my period comes, I am disappointed, but not surprised or devastated.  It is still difficult to watch Builder Boy without a sibling, but as he grows more and more independent each day, I know that he will be okay alone. 

But I still scheduled that follow-up appointment with my infertility doctor for Wednesday.  I'm not sure why.  We have no money to do anything. But he wasn't the doctor with whom we did our IUI's and IVF's.   I want his expertise to let us know what he thinks is wrong and what he would do differently if he had been our doctor at that time. 

So, yeah, we're back to this again. 

Oscillation

Isn't that a great word-oscillate?  I had an oscillating fan at my first apartment...it was great to keep the air moving around on those oppressively hot days-back and forth, back and forth, bach and forth.  It soon developed a squeak that no WD-40 could remove.  It was annoying, but on those unfortunately on those oppressively hot days, a squeak was better than a wall of heat. 

I feel a little bit like that squeaky oscillating fan.  I find myself shifting back and forth between who I am and who I want to be.  I  make strides to who I want to be, but get pushed back when reality shoves its way in.  Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. 

I recently stumbled across a blog title (and can't find the link again!!) that discussed finding herself  in motherhood.  This is a common problem when you go from woman to mother.  You lose sight of who you are and how you fit into this world besides being a "mom."  I joke about "what I want to be when I grow up."  I don't have an answer to that, but I do know how I want to live and how that is nothing like how I am living. 

How am I living?  Tired.  Paycheck to paycheck.  I'm not reading enough or attending enough cultural events.  I'm not eating as well as I should and I'm not exercising at all.  My house is a disorganized, cluttered, and dirty disaster.  I don't spend enough time with my friends or doing the creative activities that make me peaceful.  Our lives lack structure and therefore discipline. I feel unfulfilled and insecure and static.

How do I want to live?  I want to have some financial security.  I want to scrapbook, write, read great books, hand-stamp cards.  I want to cook healthy meals (mostly from scratch) and exercise regularly.  I want to organize my home.  I want to visit (and be visited!) by friends.  I want to feel fulfilled and secure and dynamic. 

But every time I make great strides towards how I want to live, some obstacles get in my way.  Plans are foiled.  Disappointments abound.  When that does happen, it holds me down, makes me feel incapable of overcoming and I stagnate. 

As I watch my son play with my husband on this unseasonably warm April night, I know that before I know it, my little guy will be on his own, living his own life.  I need to figure out who I am and how to live this life now. 

How do you do it?  How do you live the life you want with the obstacles that have been placed in your path?

On Being Valued

Lately, the idea of value has been weighing on me.  Not just in one part of my life, but in all-wife, mother, teacher, employee, friend.  It seems that so often, we forget that people need to be valued, not just by words, but by deeds.  Someone can say, "I value you," but if those words aren't followed by actions, they fall flat and mean nothing.

Jobs are the worst at this, mostly because we exist in a replaceable society.  I heard myself saying to a manager at my retail job last week that I knew "I was replaceable."  Theoretically, yes, this is true-we are all replaceable.  But when I think back to when I managed people, I could replace them, but not with the same exact skills or strengths or personal qualities.  Every time someone new was brought in, there was a learning curve, a transition period for all of us.  While the skills would eventually get there (in most cases), the personality will always be different.  Sometimes this can be a good thing, but sometimes not.  And when we exist in a work environment that makes it known that you are replaceable, it shows little value to the work you are doing.

This same job has been "cleaning house" recently.  We're all feeling a bit edgy and no one is truly happy to be there.  While perhaps this house cleaning was necessary, it has lowered morale beyond manageable proportions.  When asked what could be done to improve the morale, materialistic things were offered. and while these are nice, they still don't truly reflect a value in a staff.

I also have been feeling less than valued in my personal life.  I take great pride in attempting to be a good friend.  I feel very strongly that women need to make time for their friends, no matter what life throws their way.  Many of my friends don't feel this way.  I'm working 70 hours in a week, yet I still attempt to write out a quick card of encouragement, send a short text to let someone know I am thinking about them, or pick up the phone to leave a short "miss you" message.  I sleep for five hours a night if I'm lucky, but I will still jump on Fac.e.book to check in on friends or say hello to someone.  Relationships of all sorts take time, even when you're tired or overwhelmed.

Certainly, motherhood is a lesson in feeling under-valued, but here, the wet, sloppy kisses or being called to in the middle of the night after a nightmare makes it all worthwhile.

So, I've decided in an effort to make others feel valued, I am going to show even more than normal how I value  my friends, family, and co-workers.  How?  Here's a few things I'm going to do:

1.  Let my co-workers "overhear" me saying good things about them. 

2.  I'll pass along compliments instead of negative comments.

3.  I will call a friend with whom I haven't spoken in a while-the human voice can be a wonderful sound to hear instead of the typing of text messages/instant messaging.

4.  I will help out a friend without being asked.

5.  I will look for ways to praise people.

6.  I will pray for all those I encounter in my day.

7.  I will send cards of encouragement to those who need it and some who don't.

8.  I will make more of an effort to bring friends together.

9.  Make sure my smile reaches my eyes.

Do you feel valued?  How do you show to others that you value them?

No Place for Babies

We had a park near our house when I was growing up that we could walk to.  It was a simple park...a baseball diamond/soccer field, a pavilion, a row of swings, an extremely high metal slide, and a merry go 'round.  Oh the merry go 'round. You would start running while pushing it until you got it going super fast, then you pulled yourself on to enjoy the ride.  I can remember how cool the air felt, how I felt like I was moving at warp speed, and how the sky spun until I was dizzy.  It was pure bliss and one of my very favorite parts of going to the park.

Today, Builder Boy and I went to our park.  We can also walk to this park.  It has many of the same highlights as my park did, albeit mostly made of plastic now, and this past fall they installed a merry go 'round.  I told Builder Boy all about my park (which he goes to now with my parents and which is run-down and kind of pathetic) and how much fun I used to have on the merry go 'round.  We excitedly ran to it and began our escapades.  As he pushed me on the merry go 'round, I lay back and watched the clear blue sky spinning.  I felt that same cool breeze and couldn't believe how fast it felt like I was moving. But as fast as I was moving on the merry go 'round cannot possibly compare to how fast I jumped off of the merry go 'round. 

Why, you ask?

To avoid hurling.  Yep, somewhere between 7 and 37 I have lost my ability to go 'round and 'round without extreme nausea.  For hours I was sick.  I had to sit in the park with my head between my knees while attempting to feign interest in what Builder Boy was doing.  He knew I wasn't feeling well, so he asked me how to spell "I love you," and subsequently etched it out the mulch I was sitting on "to make you feel better, Mama."  I had to stop a couple of times on the very short walk home to avoid getting sick on the street.  Once home, I had to lie down with a mint in my mouth and breath slowly and deliberately.  Hours later, I still do not feel right.

I totally can't hang with the 8 and under crowd.

6 Days, 35 Hours

Today I end the sixth day of work streak.  As of 7 PM this evening, I will have worked 35 hours.  While this is normal to most Americans (and a little more), what makes this quite unique is the fact that these 35 hours are in addition to my two other jobs.  So, technically speaking, this actually is the last of 75 hours I will have worked in the last 6 days.  To say that I am exhausted wouldn't even touch how I truly feel.  Because besides the sheer physical exhaustion, I am overwhelmed by everything else that is affected by this schedule. 

My heart aches each time I have to tell Builder Boy that I have to go to work and he breaks down-sometimes in tears, but more often in anger, his emotion of choice, followed by his taking his anger out of me. 

My body aches from standing on legs that are too out of shape to stand for five hours straight and from the lack of sleep I've had for the past, oh, six years. 

My house aches as it waits for some long overdue attention...organization projects halted midway through, toys that need purging, clothes that need laundering, floors that need scrubbing, walls that need washing, wood that needs polishing. 

My soul aches for all of the above and the toll it takes on me.  I have aged quite a bit of the past couple of years.  My face is showing the feelings of weariness and exhaustion.  I am soft in the middle.  The wrinkles on my face are more pronounced.  A "natural makeup" look just doesn't cut it anymore.  I long for some time to myself without the worries of bills, or a dirty house, or food the needs to be cooked, or family that needs tending to.  I ache for time to scrapbook, to tell Builder Boy's story, without feeling guilty for not working or cleaning or cooking. 

Worst of all?  I ache for the time away from my growing son, who at five cannot understand that I have to do this.  I ache for all the baby years I spent too stressed and occupied.  I ache for the preschool time when we should have played instead of watching television because I was too tired to do anything else.  I ache for all the fast food he has consumed (and his addiction to the toys) because I didn't have time to cook the way I like.  I ache for all the missed moments as I headed off to job one, two, or three.  And yes, I know he knows he's loved and provided for.  I do the best I can for him.  He's lucky to have such a great daddy and wonderful grandparents (on both sides), cousins who adore him, and aunts and uncles who would move mountains for him.  But I want to be there more and in better form.

So, today, I am just tired.  I will be glad when my shift is done tonight.  While I still have to get up at five tomorrow morning to go to the first job, at least it will be knowing that I have the evening to spend with Builder Boy.  This is what will get me through. 

Winters of the Past

Being a kid during winter in Pittsburgh was always a special treat.  No cares of how you would get to work, or how you forgot to buy salt for the steep driveway.  Snow meant sledding, snowball fights, snow forts, hot cocoa, and warm brownies.  I remember distinctly shoveling snow in the evening as giant, fluffy flakes fell onto my eyelashes.  My dad would often take us for a walk on those nights around our street.  The silence was intense with a beauty all its own. 

It seems, though, that for the past decade or so, we haven't had winters like this.  We'll get a dusting now and then, but those blizzards that blanketed the area have been a thing of the past.  This winter, though, has been a winter like those of my childhood and I'm so excited that Builder Boy gets to experience the type of winter that builds the greatest of childhood memories!

(and to all those to whom I swore we would only get an inch or two, I'm sorry...)

The Friday evening snow was perfect for building snowmen and having snowball fights! We built the snowman so big that Builder Boy had to build a snow step-stool. 

Guess who got hit with this snowball?  Yep, he always picks me too hit, even though I gave him this awesome snowball!

Father and son walking ahead on our evening walk.

 

Our weeping cherry weeping a little more than usual.
 

 

We tortured the cat and took him outside this morning.

 

Deconstructor Cat was not pleased...

 

Of course, there is always damage from storms like these...this giant limb is from our 250 year old tree.

To give you an idea of how much snow fell, check out our patio table. It's around 20 inches and was still falling when we took this picture.  Crazy!

 

Builder Boy loves to shovel!  We're so glad!!

Now we're hunkering down enjoying the weather from the inside.  I think a big pot of soup and homemade bread is in store for us tonight...maybe followed by a giant pan of warm brownies! Life is good!
 
 

The New Year Starts Today

Okay, well, it was supposed to start today.  You see, every year, I find it hard to work on some of my resolutions because I still have residual holiday crap at my house.  You know those hangers-on from the holidays...the box of milk chocolates that were a hostess gift, the extra cookies in the freezer, the chips and crackers and cheeses left over from the party.  So, I always give myself until the Monday after January 1st to begin my "new year."  But, this year, I still have a lot of hangers-on, so my new year will be starting in a few days. (yea, yea, yea, I know I could throw away the leftover stuff, but ya know, I'm not a waster...)

It seems so cliche to write about your resolutions...resolutions that we all know will fade away into the late-winter blues.  We all pretty much have the same resolutions (be healthier, be a better person, get more organized), we just have different ideas on meeting those goals. 

So what are mine and how will I get there? Here goes nothing...

1.  I will continue to try to get our home de-cluttered and somewhat organized.  I am going back to this idea will work.  It the slow, but sure method of cleaning.  We are also working already on cleaning out our third floor...donating items, throwing away items, reorganizing.  We have a lot of square footage up there covered by all the "stuff."  We have committed to doing things the right way-instead of moving piles, we're taking care of the piles.  It takes longer, but the effects last a lot longer.  

2.  I will get back to planning my meals out so that I don't have the 5:00 dinner freak out which usually results in takeout or eating out.  It's a process I enjoy, but it so often gets thrown to the wayside when things get harried. And I am also going to remember that when I don't think I have anything to make for dinner, I need to really look in my freezer because usually there is something there I could make.

3.  I will try to eat better.  I'm thinking I'll do Weight Watchers again online.  It worked the first time and I felt better.  This time, though, I'd like to include more exercise.  This requires our treadmill to come from the third floor (see #1) to the second floor.  The room that it is going into needs to be cleaned up and out, so I'll have to do that first.

4.  I will try to be a better mother and wife.  This is always on my list all the time, New Year's or not.  To accomplish this, I am going to try to spend at least one full hour of time with my son without distractions...no internet, no cooking, no phone calls, etc.  This helps me feel less guilty as I leave for work for the second time in a day, or have to make dinner, or clean the bathroom, etc.  Knowing that I spent that quality time with him makes all the difference in both of ours lives.

5.  I will try to worry more about myself.  Sounds selfish, but over the past year (and the four years before that), I have spent very little time taking care of myself.  I need me time.  I need time to be creative, to write, scrapbook, create cards, bake, have a drink with friends.  This makes me happier which makes me a better mother and wife and teacher and daughter. I have already started to work on this by blogging a bit and planning on an overnight crop with one of my bestest friends (and the money has been paid, so we're officially doing it!! Thanks, Porsche Nut!)

6.  Lastly, I will continue trying to spend less and save more.  I started six months ago by "paying myself first" and putting away 10% of my income-which on what I make is not much, but it has helped to build up the non-existent savings account.  We are in a lot of debt, so this can't be a resolution that falls off the radar.  We have no choice but to take care of this.  More to come on this in a separate post.

So, that's my list.  Notice they all start with "I will try" because I don't' want the pressure of failing at them.  Some days, I will do well, others I won't.  That's reality. Here's hoping that I can manage most of them.  So what's on your lists this year?

2009: The Year that Was (and Thank God for that!)

I hate New Year's Eve.  I think it's a holiday where we put far too much pressure on ourselves...whether that pressure is about planning and executing the perfect celebration or reflecting on the past year or creating resolutions for the coming year, it's just a lot of unnecessary pressure. This year, though, I was glad to see New Year's Eve come.  To put it simply, 2009 sucked and I couldn't wait until it hit 12:00 AM on January 1, 2010.

2009 started for me fast and furious.  At 8:30 AM on January 1, 2009, my father suffered his second massive stroke within seven days, just a mere 24 hours after coming home from the hospital.  The first two months of 2009 were filled with anxiety, exhaustion, fear, and frustration.  I cooked for two families, one of whom lives 45 minutes away and was on a low fat, low sodium, low sugar diet.  I worked three jobs.  I mothered my son and my parents.  My goddaughter, Porsche Peanut, was diagnosed with Chiari Type 1, a brain malformation, after there was some talk about a brain tumor.  Yea, 2009 started out with an exhausting bang!

In March, my sister found out she would have to have abdominal surgery to remove a fibroid for the second time.  This time, the fibroid had grown through the uterus.  She had the surgery in early April and was out of work for six weeks recovering from the massive surgery.  The surgery was tough and the recovery was slow.  My sister is terrified of all things medical, so we had the emotional element to deal with as well.  My mother informed me that we were done with hospitals for the year. 

But as my mother said this, I had already found out I was pregnant again after the prior October's miscarriage.  I was so excited to tell her that the next time we would be in the hospital would be to celebrate a new life.  Ha!  I was seeing the same doctor who performed my sister's surgery.  He was sworn to secrecy until he confirmed that this  one would stick. Shortly after my sister's surgery, after three long weeks of blood tests and ultrasounds, I was diagnosed with a complete molar pregnancy, had my D & C, and began eight months of weekly then monthly blood tests to monitor for GTN, gestastional trophoblastic neoplasia, abnormal cells caused by the molar pregnancy that spread act like cancer.

In May, I took on a fourth job to focus on paying down our ridiculous infertility debt, working sometimes 80 hours a week. A month and a half later, in July, I lost my one teaching job-while this was partly a blessing (I was now down to 60 hours a week), it also meant that the "extra" job I took to pay down the debt became a necessary income.  There was nothing "extra" about it. Financially, we were right back where we started. 

In August, after months of anxiety attacks, I finally went to see the doctor for some drugs.  Test results showed that it was more than anxiety causing my racing heart-it was a heart murmur.  After a battery of tests, tests, and more tests, I started on blood pressure medication to control my symptoms. 

The following months, I spiraled into a depression, one that I had been flirting with for awhile, but finally succumbed to.  With too many responsibilities and not enough hours in the day, I was not able to take care of me and the outcome was telling.  I have aged this past year and look my age now.  While nothing detrimental happened, I did lose my joy,and that's never good.

In November, my father in law ended up in the hospital after a series of falls.  He spent two weeks there while they tried to control and out of control infection.  My mother in law was tired and spent after years of taking care of him.  I watched my husband wear down from worry and my sisters in law take on burden that took them to the breaking point.  Around this same time, we had Builder Boy evaluated for autism and while that came back inconclusive, he was diagnosed with Oppositional Defiant Disorder.  We have yet to determine how to proceed with the diagnosis.

December found me in Disney, sick, but somehow feeling as if there was a light at the end of the tunnel.  My father is still with us and has very little residual complications from his strokes.  My sister is fine post-surgery.  I am done with the blood tests after the molar pregnancy.  My depression has lifted somewhat.  My heart is fine and monitored.  We are still financially struggling, but working on making changes to that.  We are also working on our house, finishing outstanding projects, de-cluttering, and trying to be better parents. 

So, 2009, you did really, really suck, but you know what?  You're over.  We're on to 2010.  And I think it will be a much better year.  Oh, gosh, I hope so!!!! 

Did I Forget to Mention....

I forgot to tell you that I had my final blood draw three weeks ago for the molar pregnancy and I am happy to report that all is well and we were given the "all clear" to begin trying again.  I am so glad to be done with the worry of the monthly tests and so glad that my awesome doctor got all of the bad cells out of there during the D&C.  I'm not exactly sure if we will be trying again...our break put a lot into perspective.  Our son is 5 1/2.  Even if we got pregnant this first month, he would be six when we'd deliver.  That's a big age difference.  Besides, he's growing more and more independent each day.  We question whether we want to go back and do those newborn days again when things are just starting to get easier.

Don't get me wrong, I still desperately want a sibling for my son, but we're just not sure that doing something about it is the best thing for any of us. So, we'll mull over things, enjoy the holidays, have a few drinks, and then think about this in the New Year.

For now, though, no cancer cells in me as far as we know, and this is a great Christmas present.