The Infertile Gourmet

IT'S A BOY!!? NO IT'S A GIRL!

David and I are the proud new parents of an Eames era chair!  This little baby came to us via an alley.  Poor little lost soul needed a mamma and a daddy.  We, being the saints that we are, adopted this poor pittiful dumpster dive, through it in the back of the truck, (our little truck bought for the management of our properties...totally hoosier!), drove it home where it took up residence in our foyer.

It's brother and sisters, the cats and  the dogs, love it! We cannot get them off. 

When my husband spotted it I was so excited...finally we would be parents.  My friend Anna and her husband took up ebaying...selling junk for alot of money.  Ya know one man's junk is another mans treasure. Which is true because on another dumpster dive many years ago I found turn of the century high-backs that I reupholstered and now love.  Valuable in an antique store but free in an alley.  It even had the original horse-hair and down filling...anyhoo back to Anna.

I was so excited because she sells what she refers to as post-modern furniture which I refer to as my grandma's choice of furniture.  So we called her and told her about our new chair and she said that she would list it for us.  We pushed the kitties off of their new bed, through it back in the truck, and drove with our prize to Aunt Anna's house.  There we vacuumed it, showcased it, and took pictures.

You can meet David and Alex's new baby at this ebay page!  We will be having a shower hosted by the couch...it's proud God-mother.  So, please, folks get your bids in to the alley chair errr I mean the Eames Era Desk Chair that is oh so hip!

Mexico Step 1

Bombs went off, insults were thrown, manipulations started, phone calls ended abruptly only to be started once again a few minutes later, threats were made, and allies were informed of their place.  What is this you ask? Cold war?

No, it was David telling his Long Island-stereotypical-jewish-mother-to-the-tenth-power that we are moving to ...eeeehhhhh gads.....Mexico. 

My husband knew he had to do it eventually and he was planning on calling her from the plane but per his wife's nagging he was caught between then and now.  He, in fear of the wrath of Alex, called.  (Actually it was his idea that day but I am the one telling the story and I think it is funnier this way). 

A few snippets "David, you are stupid for moving"  "David, I want all the artwork back (his grandmothers artwork) and the chairs. (see below for the mother of pearl in-laid chairs that flank the picture on both sides and yes that is christmas decorations and yes we are jewish...we are holiday opportunists..you bring the holiday and we will celebrate....festuvus for the rest of us anyone?)  And all the other things I gave you."  "Alex put you up to this David"  "I will not give you any money David" (Note-we have never taken ANY money from her nor have we asked for any but she wishes that we would have so she has a say or a stake in our lives.  "What about your career David?"  "What if you do not like it there David".  I will stop here because I am sure you get the picture.

This all took place over the last two weeks.  She has finally settled down and accepted it.  Although, I have not talked to her yet ...thank you caller ID...  I am sure I will here a mouth full since I am the crazed devilish wife of David.

Camping Lessons

Silence goes the gourmet again.  Sorry. 

I have found myself depressed lately.  Tired.  Worn out.

This past month I had Hope visiting again because I was two weeks late.  I so knew better than going with the signs of pregnancy.  I did it anyway so can we say glutton for punishment.  I just keep hoping one day that it might happen and if that day comes that I would have signs so why can this not be today?

Infertility sucks.

This weekend the Gourmet packed up her family, a week's supply of food (for one day of camping...we may be dirty and buggy but as God as my witness I shall never be hungry again) and set out into the wilderness..er well sort of.  We parked next to a beautiful river called the Courtois in southern Missouri.  It was pleasant enough except over the river and through some woods to the rowdy crowd we go.  They camped and partied into the night to close for comfort and the sound of their chug, chug, chugging mixed with the occasional fog horn.  My rap music from the city was replaced with this.  The fog horn was blown deep into the wee hours of the morning.  At least we assumed we would have quiet in the morning when the chuggers would be hung over and sleeping.

Being the dried up bitty that I am I whined about their noise.  We camped with our friends who have two children. One is eight and is an energetic boy who loves mischievous science projects and the other is a 28 year old girl with down syndrome who is quite intelligent.  Around the campfire I whined of the rowdy kids and she sat quietly listening.  After your stupid gourmet bitched about those kids ruining her precious quiet campfire Mele said that in her thirties and forties she would be one of those people having fun.

Oops.  I had become the pregnant mom with two kids already bitching about her kids and how tired she was.  It made me think of how we as humans always want to be somewhere else than where we are.  It always seems greener on the other side.  For me the other side is a uterus with a wee resident and for Mele it was chugging and whooping it up on the other side of the river.  I know what it was like as a teenager to want to be away from your parents, drinking, playing with friends, anything at all that said you belonged to a group of young people who wanted to have fun just like you.  Instead Mele has her parents who are the ultimate hippies, friends of the family like the gourmets who are soooooo cool (shameless pat on the back to me), her brother and a fairly active social life that involves many of varying ages.  I think she wants her own friends though...ones that do not partake in the family activities.  Ones that she might find a boy and have a kiss.  Ones that she might party hard and let go of all the proper ways that she always has had to be. 

Is it to much to ask to get to let go sometimes?  Is it to much to ask that we get what we dream? I do not think so.  The reality is that she probably will not have that type of friend or group to sow her wild oats. 

I stared at the fire contemplating.  Spiritually I felt at a small dead end.  There are limitations in life by our bodies, spirit, social structures, and worst by our own standards.  My body might never produce a child and Mele's body will never be free of her genes.  I do not mean to compare myself to her or anyone else for that matter, however, I do want to contrast the similarity of limits. 

Accepting our limits is hard.  Breaking through obstacles is rewarding but limits are where the obstacles are impossible to climb.  Impossible.  Impassable.  Dead-ends.

Mele seems to not be bothered by her limitations. She may long for something that she will never vocalize but generally I think she is accepting of her fate whatever that may be.

I suppose though that our limits are spiritually or self imposed before we ever take human form. Hopefully Hope has a reason and purpose for taking over the guest bedroom.  Maybe our limits are truly our spirit's way of saying stop.  Stay here.  You cannot go any farther.  Surrender. Listen to me I am trying to tell you something.  Fine, if you must keep throwing yourself against that wall that is your choice but when you are bruised and ready to listen and learn I am here. I have always been here not beyond the wall of your limits. 

I throw myself against that wall by doing.  I try so hard to get my children here by my herbs, fretting over course of treatments, to adopt or not to adopt, more green tea, blaming myself because I ate something with red 35 in it and surely that is why I am not pregnant, spending my retirement money on organics, avoiding plastic like the plague in fear of xenoestrogens, praying to the bratty fairy dust diva (bitch), buying stock in EPT's, and generally thinking what is the next thing to do, avoid, and try.

Maybe I have done what I can.  Maybe it is time to wait. Not wait and whine.  But wait quietly and patiently (I looked this word up in the dictionary..apparently it means this).  Huhh. 

No more green tea unless I want it.  No forced sex because I have to.  This summer when I hear bells in the distant I will run with my quarters in my sweaty palm and flag down the ice cream man.  I will order the blue number 12, red 24, and white ...I mean the astro pop with raspberry, cherry and lemon flavored popsicle.  I will let it run down my arms in a sticky mess and run of to jump into the pool. I hope.  I

I have to do something instead of kicking Hope out like an off again on again relationship.  Maybe I will do up the guest bedroom and let her stay...for good.  I will tolerate her and her flaws.  I will not expect much.

The next morning of the camping I was enjoying the beginnings of the morning fire, the crisp and cool dewy air, and the quiet when I heard out of nowhere that damn fog horn again.  Instead of getting mad I laughed. I laughed because life is not the way we expect it.  Those drunk fog horn blowers managed to be up early just like me. 

The fog horn's persistent presence said I am here and I will blow until I can blow no more.  I am fog horn!!!  ...or until the crazed-infertile-covered-in-poison-ivy-camper across the river drives over it with her car.

Pets Rule, Humans Are Fools

Pets per square inch in our home is at a maximum.  View graphic 1. and note that prime bed real estate is gone.  To allow space for the mother (your gourmet) to join she will either A. have to kick of the cat in the pillow which will not work because there are three more cats waiting to fill his space B. Kick off a dog which will not work because they think they own the place and for one am not going to go up against a dog coup.  They could have us overthrown in minutes demanding a constant stream of doggy biscuits....oh wait a minute that already happened.  Well it could get worse and let us just leave it at that.

Graphic 1. 

Galloping Cats...the next picture is for you for evidence of our discussion...to keep my readers in the loop we were one upping one another by showing just how little space we have with the ruling party....the pets in our life.

Yes, we have too many pets.  However the infertile's handbook states one must have no fewer than one dog and two cats.  Which makes us very qualified members.  Afterall if you google infertile I am in the top ten infertiles in the world.  My ovaries will shame the rest of you by their dysfunction!  Here I go one upping again.  Bad habit.  Sorry I must stop bragging about my infertility.  Although I know that you all wish you were as infertile as me.  Which leads me to my next discussion.

I fell of the wagon today....weeks now I have been begging my husband to test.  I begged my neighbor if she had any pee sticks.  She said that she might and the joy on my face would have lit a small town.  When she checked she said that she did not have any.  I was irrate.  Names flew from my mouth in a fit of rage...to my husband ...you pee- stick hating bastard. I screamed you cannot control me I will buy them if I want. And to my neighbor I accused her of using them like a junkie behind closed doors.  I said she needed help for her problem.  Then I found out that Chasmyn had borrowed her last few tests and Cate (the neighbor) had used one for fun!!!  For fun.  Can you believe that people...that is sick.  I said Chasmyn is a bitch.  Cate and David watched my tirade in humor and shook their heads.  Miss Cate through out that I must be displacing a bit.  I got really feisty.  Cate and David are probably planning an intervention.

We were at a picnic this weekend with Cate and she handed my a stick...a branch...you know from a tree.  Mean.  Plain mean.  Good thing I like her though...and her humor.

Oh the reason I wanted to test (as if I needed a reason) is because I am two weeks late...  I did finally test yesterday..NADA

Next random bit of silliness...does your husband ever use his parts to ummm sing or talk?  No?  Really?  Come on fess up...You know they use their ummmm penius to sing with it's little mouth?  Well fine maybe yours does not but mine does.

More bits about my husband.  Moving to Mexico has him studing spanish like a boy studies baseball cards.  He is very, very serious about it.  So serious in fact that he has used little stickers with vocab words all over my house for everything from objects to rooms and colors.  It is rather annoying. But cute.  My objection comes from if he leaves the stickers on too long....ya know what filmy goop is left behind.  Cleaning nightmare.  I spied him the other day about to put el pimienta sticker on my expensive pepper shaker from William Sonoma.  The Gourmet worships her items from WS.  She is a food snob. Do not mess with her pepper shakers!  He argued that the sticker would not leave a mark on the metal.  Yeah right.

I then found a sticker on a robe I was about to where that had been hanging in the closet.  It said el horno...now I know some spanish but have honestly forgotten much.  Did he place that on my pygamas....and what does it mean?  Horned woman?  Horny woman?  Does he think I am the devil?  Am I really that difficult?

So picture..er well ummm do not picture this but just take it in..I am sitting on the toilet trapped by my husband who is standing in front of me waiting for the shower water to warm up.  To entertain me or more like himself he is serenading me with Mr P....do I have to say it?  Fine. P-E-N-I-S.  This is not unusual but now he does in spanish!

I stared at him looking at him like he was crazy while plotting my revenge ...and that is where my blog comes in. Since he noticed my pure enjoyment of the moment he had his back up singer step in for a round...his bum took over the performance. Come on you do not know what I am talking about...he used his hands to squeeze his tushi cheeks together like a mouth...geesh where do you people come from who have never used your bum to speak...  anyhoo.  This is what his butt sang for me.  No, not the first song.  The second song about Barbie and Ken.

My husband had been forewarned..ya do it I blog it..this is my statement he is well aware.  I cannot help if he acts like a doofus...  I so would not want him any other way.  I am as much of one and if her were honery like me he would tell many a story about me on his blog.

This morning I woke up with a sticker stuck in my hair...hair in the lower regions...  Ya know my pubes..How does one say pubes is spanish?  More than that I would like to know if he actually placed it there in my sleep.  I told you he was serious about spanish stickers.

How many readers did I just lose?

Faith Shopping

Musical chairs is the universes favorite game.  In one fell swoop yesterday my upcoming chance at IVF roulette was gone.  The casino kicked us out.

Now for those of you who may not be up on my uterine travels let me fill you in....About a month ago David finally got a job. This city does not cater to specialized chip designers so it has been challenging to find work.  We were very happy.  The pay was about half of what we were used to but....BUT...we had IVF coverage!!!  Plus, we would be making money rather than living off of savings until we got to Mexico. 

I was very excited about the infertility coverage and even have an appointment on the fifth of May.  One problem with this scenario is that my periods have been regualr for about five months in a row for the first time ever.  So part of me says to go on faith and Hope (yeah that bitch is back in town) that we might get knocked up in our own bed.  The other part of me said that spirit is knocking at our door ...open the door that is in front of me.

My dilemma with IVF is that the drugs, as many of you know, can really mess the body up hormonally.  Some of my friends that I know who have gone through IVF have never had their periods return to normal seeminlgy altering their bodies permanently.  I was reluctant to do anything that might mess my already messed up body.  We have been going back and forth on whether or not to do it.

Yesterday morning I was upstairs getting dressed when I heard a male voice wander up the stairs.  There was David looking at me strangely.  I asked him why he was home and what was wrong...He said I was fired.  What?

David has never been fired.  Barely misses work, works long hours, and is honest.  He is a good employee. The reason...he did not show up fifteen minutes early for training.  Ridiculous.  Anyway we think there are some other reasons regarding politics that he was fired because there reason was really ridiculous.  I will not ramble on the reasons because they are quite boring but I think are valid.

Anyhoo....no IVF insurance now.  I was, of course, bummed.  The day was a bit depressing.  However, since we are moving and getting away it was not as strongly felt if I had been trying to build a life here which I do not want at all.  It is time to move on.  I like to think that maybe that was spirits way of saying just wait and it will happen.

Those of you who have followed my bi-polar infertility posts on adoption, treatment, or waiting probably are a little confused.  Me too.  My heart is saying just wait.  Something with my body is happening.  My head says "Grow up Pollyanna" .  I have already waited enough.  So I guess I will just have to wait because there really is not too many things we can do right now.  We cannot start on adoption when we are moving out of the country, nor do we have the extra money right now to drop 20,000.  We will have to wait.

Yesterday I found myself in Target buying summer shorts and T-shirts. I passed by the children's section and spotted a little girl's dress that I had dutifully walked past a couple of weeks ago.  I had slowed down and inspected it like a piece of meat, casually looking around to see if anyone was watching, and snuck of into women's fashions before anyone spotted the non-mother.  This time I was slow and depressed from the mornings events so I said let us see if that dress is still here...it was and better yet it was on the clearance rack.

Tears started flowing the minute my hands touched it soft cottony fabric.  I could picture my daughter in this dress...not because it was an extra-ordinary dress but because it was a simple dress one might wear on a warm day with the sun shining and the bees buzing.  An everyday normal dress.  A normal dress a normal mom would put her normal child into and then go and clean the cheerios off the floor.  A dress that would fit into such an ordinary day that  a mom would not remember the years of pain trying to get that little one here.  So normal in fact that child might even spill a little milk onto the dress.  Oh how I want this dress to be stained, covered in normal daily wear.  Maybe a little dirt from the garden, or even kool-aid that I swore that I would never ever give my child.  Oh how I would love to have the oppurtunity to give my little girl things that I swore I would never do...normal things every mom does.  Right now the dress is imperfectly perfect.

I can picture her in this dress with her Daddy's curly dark hair and big brown eyes.  I can feel her soft and warm skin. 

I had to do something after the disappointment of the morning.  Maybe it was my child's way of communicating to me that I need to wait and she will come on her own time.  I went out on faith and bought her a gift...an ordinary everyday needed type gift. One she will never thank me and one that she should not thank me.  I was just doing mom duties...the great ones that go unnoticed and this is soooo fine by me.

I guess now you know that I bought the dress.  It is all mine waiting for her to get here.  Where are you little one?

My Belated Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday....  I forgot about it until my husband woke me up and told me.

Can I ask  a favor?  Please?  It is my birthday :)

If you are here reading, right now, will you say hi.  And tell me how you got to my site.  Tell me if you have a blog. Tell me about you...and if you are a lurker ..well I probably appreciate you here unless you are silently stalking me and even then I will probably be flattered.  Lurkers please say hello.  Ok tall request yes....but I am so curious. 

Please keep reading on because there is a long post to follow.