Archive for June, 2012

Reunited with my money…now only nappies for one kid forEVAH….for now, anyway.

June 30, 2012

We are in Country A!

Coconut survived a three hour journey to the airport, a night in the hotel, three hours at the airport, an eight hour flight, another hour at an airport, and an hour drive to my mom’s house with no accidents. I think it is safe to say we no longer need to carry three pairs of spare trousers and four extra pairs of underpants everywhere we go.

We’ll be at her house today, but tomorrow we are driving to…uh…north, very north, and we’ll be in a cabin in the woods for a week. Hope your week is nice, all.


Genetic patterns.

June 30, 2012

People say, ‘Where did Snort get his lactose intolerance from?’

I reply that I have no clue, as I helplessly and uncontrollably shit out the four cheese pizza I ate the night before.

Adventures in navigating.

June 21, 2012

A couple of weeks ago we went to our first home education group for this area. It was ten steps beyond awesome and I keep meaning to write about it.

But for now, let me say that when my satnav said, ‘You have reached your destination’ I was on a country lane with nothing but hedges on either side of the car. I kept driving and pulled over when we hit the nearby village.

I stopped opposite a church and tried not to lose my mind after driving 40 minutes in the pouring rain to not find the place.
I rang one of the organizers, who apparently is more shit at directions than even me. She said she was losing reception and would go outside and stand in the absolute monsoon just to make sure we’d get there.

She had a friend ring, who actually used to live in the village. She was all gung ho and, ‘I’ll fly you in!’ And she did. Telling me to take a sharp right turn, drive past the blue shop, hang a left at ye olde rusty sign.

You’d better believe that I set the carpark of this place as a favourite on the satnav. And, in fact, the satnav wants to set every new favourite location as this place. So….it’s been annoying.

Imagine my pure joy today when the satnav led us, not to the group, but the fucking church in the village where I’d admitted I was lost beyond belief. I believe I snarl-laughed, ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.’

Luckily some insane hidden memory kicked in and I remembered how to get there. And it was even better than last time….and I set it as a favourite again.

We won’t be back for a long three weeks due to a trip to see my family, so let’s hope Debbie (my satnav) redeems herself next time because my memory doesn’t stretch that long.

Update on ttc.

June 19, 2012

My appointment went well, even if totally crazy. And no scan.

But on the bright side, Coconut apparently did a wee in her potty in the waiting area, so I guess I don’t need to bring 600 outfit/underpants changes everywhere since we’ve never used them.

But. The third baby.

Well. They had me start the pill today. The anonymous recipient is already on it. We were moving along nicely.

Then TMD texted saying she’s spent time this afternoon reading her company’s maternity policy, and she reckons she can’t get pregnant until September if she wants real paid leave after the birth.

So despite feeling a bit rushed earlier (thinking egg collection start/middle¬† of August), I admit I felt bummed about pushing things back. However, I’m now seeing this as extra time to prepare physically, financially, and emotionally for IVF and pregnancy. I called the clinic and did some period math with the nurse.

Our new plan gets TMD on the pill from her July period, me on the pill from my August period. Everyone starts injections when I am three weeks into the pill. This puts egg collection the last week in September, which means by conventional standards TMD would be pregnant from mid-september.

(Confused? A woman’s pregnancy officially starts the first day of her period in the month she gets pregnant. So she actually has two weeks classed as part of her pregnancy when she’s not physically pregnant.)

Tonight we need to do more pregnancy math to confirm that the egg collection/embryo transfer in late September does work out correctly.

TMD is massively bummed because she won’t be home for too long post birth, at least by Country B standards, and even that time will be on a massive pay reduction. Our goal now is to save, save, save – which means no more spending by me. On anything. Insert sad face here.

We have also loosely talked about me getting back into my counselling work part time, so we would both have work and home time. My thoughts on that probably require a new post.

In other news, the wonderful mamas at catsandcradles are pregnant! I can’t blog comment from my phone, but I love the blog and am so pleased for them. Go tell them congratulations and say I sent you!

So. More screening tests, birth control pills, and six mountains of paperwork still left before Operation Baby comes to (hopeful) fruition. But we leave to visit family in Country A at the end of next week, so at least we get a bit of a break in the midst of the stress!

I’ve missed the dildocam.

June 19, 2012

Road trip to Country W today. I’m having my antral follicle count – to see how many follicles (and therefore possible eggs) I produce in a natural cycle. It’s day 4 of my period.

Let’s hope things look good, as TMD and I are moving forward with various screening tests. And, an additional cool thing, I mentioned to the clinic that the woman I previously shared eggs with had requested to be informed if I donated in future. She’s apparently thrilled, grateful, and already on the pill waiting to be synched with my cycle.

So half my eggs to TMD, half to this other woman. Unfortunately our same sperm donor is not available, but we don’t really mind that much. This new baby is OUR baby, you know? Whether they have green hair or purple eyes is irrelevant.

The most interesting part of today is TMD’s dad. He has to come along as I’ll have the kids. No doubt I’ll have to take them on my own at some point, but this first appointment it’ll be nice to have them in the waiting room with FIL.

I have consequently discovered a neat little trick to end any conversation. I simply say ‘ovaries’ or something similar.

So, I’ll update you later! Peace out, yo.

Pretend, real, who can tell.

June 15, 2012

Ah. We had midnight hospital runs, testing for diabetes, etc. All fun. End result? He’s going to be just fine and is almost into the ‘just fine’ region.

But what a week.

Coconut and I also had this bug, though we recovered quickly. Not quick enough for me to not get pee, runny poo, and vomit all over me. (Not mine, folks.)

This week also began with emergency doctor trips for Coco, who was only peeing once every 24 hours. We’ve got new poop medicine, and lo and behold, as she poops better she’s back to peeing like a human.

And as far as the potty training we did not do? I’m inspired to not do it to Snort, too.

Since the day Coconut decided to use the potty (randomly, after months of hostility towards peeing elsewhere than her nappy), girlfriend has not had any accidents. She also is just pooping in the potty, easy as you please, which is astonishing after an impossible length of time where poop equalled destruction and pain.

I don’t remind her, pester her, etc. Or I try not to. We have potties in various locations. I leave her and them alone, and she avails herself of them as necessary. It’s AWESOME.

But after a week of bodily fluids spewing out everywhere (or not, as the case may be), the house is gross. We are semi-messy people, but not dirty people. So in order to cope with today, I am pretending I am in Little House on the Prairie. Ma Ingles got shit done, ya’ll, with a smile on her face.

If I pretend that I must keep moving and getting stuff sorted, then it is easier to do.

Just like when I used to feel rage at the kids, so I pretended cameras were all over the house and I was on a reality tv show about awesome parenting. You do what you gotta do.

Snort is sick.

June 13, 2012


Snort is very unwell. Been vomiting since Monday morning. Been sleeping since Tuesday morning. Yes, 36 hours of sleep – except when he is awake and vomiting.

Doctor says he has gastroenteritis. Coconut and I also had it, but were both better within a day.

I’ve begun packing an overnight hospital bag. TMD’s mum is on standby to drive Snort and a parent to the children’s hospital. I hope it doesn’t come to that.

It feels odd. In his second year of life he had so many hospital stays. I could pack an awesome hospital bag without thinking about it. But it’s been so long since that was our life. We have even transitioned completely off all inhalers!

But here we are this evening, me lying on the couch, him lying on me, and I wonder if he will keep his two bites of popsicle down. He refuses the rehydration drinks proscribed for him.

He’s been limp all day. This picture is of him on a sling on my back at the doctor, first thing this morning. He couldn’t walk. Or sit up. He’s been just a warm overcooked noodle.

We saw a nurse who got freaked out by how unresponsive and floppy he was. She called a doctor in.

The doc says he’s just been hit hard. And that he’s actually doing remarkably well for how very sick he is. His heart and respiration seem unaffected. He’s still having wet nappies, albeit not as much or often as usual. He has had no real fever.

Fingers crossed our patient vigil and tiny doses of fluids tonight do the trick. I’ve had enough of my sweet boy being in hospital. Coconut is so very sad and missing her favourite playmate. TMD finds it stressful to be at work while he’s so sick.

And me? I’ve tap danced in vomit today. I’ve been stared at by thirty strangers who’ve possibly never seen such a big kid in a sling, and they liked it. I’ve got a sore butt from all the sitting.

But I’ve also got this little boy, my little love, lying on me. And I’m not going anywhere.

Baby 3, come to me.

June 12, 2012

IVF is a-go-go. I still have a few screening tests to go through, but assuming they are fine and TMD’s are as well, we are good to go.

I’m even sharing my eggs with the same woman as last time, which makes me feel good.

My first scans and blood draws will probably be early next week, and we all go on the pill. Everyone cross everything for us.

I am bread dough that has not risen. I want to stay in bed all week.

June 10, 2012

Oh, ya’ll, I’m totally crazy. And not in that I-just-shit-my-pants-and-have-no-problem-telling-you-about-it kind of way. No, in a jittery high pitched squeal way, alternating with lying still like a lump of bread dough. The bread dough is preferable.

When I was in my early twenties (and probably from my teen years, though the pattern was only officially noticed by myself/TMD and treated medically from when I moved here, more on that in a bit), I went truly crazy before my period. The official term is PMDD. So when I say crazy, I don’t mean it in a way that is casually offensive to people with mental health issues. I mean I had my own little doozy of an issue. Google it.

Let’s just explain it for those of you who don’t google that it’s like a jekyll/hyde thing. I used to totally change personalities and GO CRAZY for two out of four weeks. And it used to make me crazier thinking that if I was 50% Rageful Depressed Girl, who was to say that Happy Relaxed Girl was any more real?

I remember my doctor at the time never diagnosed me with PMDD, but she sure put me on the correct medication to treat it. Light anti-depressants to be taken during my luteal phase (aw, just hit up a phrase all my TCC friends recognize! Word up to my babymaking friends!), though I took them all month. I took them for less than six months and then decided to go natural. And for me, just knowing that on day 19 of my cycle was a day I should never leave the house (seriously) made things easier. If I was going nuts (perhaps I will clarify later) it sometimes helped to look at a calender and understand why. My doctor said the only thing that would help was having a baby.

Well, kids, I tell you something: maybe my hormones have finally switched from pregnant-lady to non-pregnant-lady. Because I sure as shit am getting crazy again. Not as severely as before, but I definitely notice my pre-period days are getting hairy for me and those around me. As a sidenote, PMDD is often only picked up one the sufferer/survivor lives with their partner, an outside person who can see clearly enough to notice a pattern to the shifting moods and crazy behaviours.

Stress used to really up my levels of crazy. And the crazy came with a side dose of truly agonising periods – though I stress both were for a short season in my early twenties, thank god, and have been on haitus for years. Except for today.

My new car smells like my very first car – like the oil gasket is leaking. I thought it smelled funny one time last week but thought nothing more of it. And then yesterday the smell was overwhelming. I’m not clear if it’s because it actually smells like an oil leak, or because my heightened seventh sense of The Crazy is smelling things that are really not there. Or because it’s a diesel and I’ve never driven one before.

But I was such a hyped up mess that when we got home yesterday, I hopped out of the car and started sniffing the bonnet. And then got on my knees and stuck my head under the car – like I’m a fucking mechanic or something – and started hardcore smelling. I know, I know.

You may be thinking, well, this is justified behaviour. I’d be freaking out if I just spent an unholy amount of money on a car that is perhaps a lemon. But you guys, I didn’t engage the parking brake. This is kind of a big deal when you drive a manual and your driveway is on a slight incline.

About two hours after we got home, the doorbell rang. A random man came over to point out that our car had gone backwards, straight down the drive, and was in the road. If you imagine the direction of the road as being this line of type, our car was like an up and down line. Totally creating right angles with the road, and completely blocking the road.


And was still freaky this morning, which involved TMD getting to witness a shrieking …uh, what are those ghost things that shriek at you? And Hallmark had all those e-cards featuring her? Ah yes, a banshee. I was a fucking banshee. A f-f-FREAKED OUT BANSHEE.

I am tired of being an adult today.

A possible theory regarding lust for young vampires.

June 9, 2012

Why do young women like vampires? It allows them the fantasy of being with an older man, but it is safe as he’s trapped in a youthful body.

Why do older women like vampires? It allows them the fantasy of being with a virile young thang, except it is safe as he’s really 242 years old.