In protest today of the American SOPA and PIPA legislation, many websites are blacked out or are discussing the details of Internet Censoring.
Our resident Stirrup Queen, Mel, has a counter-idea in play today: post the best advice you have to give. In her entry, she shares The Best Parenting (and Marriage) Advice I Have to Give. A very good read. I think I need to read it a few times to absorb the information she has in there. Thank you for posting it Mel. At the moment, your advice could be very helpful in my world. It's good to hear it.
And while I am absolutely swamped this week with a bunch of things at work and at home, I have one motto, one creed, one piece of advice that has served me well through all these years and likely for many years to come.
It is better to live with remorse than with regret.
I first heard it in French in a Patrick Bruel song (Place des grands hommes). At the beginning of the live version, he shouts, "Il vaut mieux vivre avec des remords qu'avec des regrets." It resonated in me, from a very young age. And I have taken it to heart.
That piece of advice has seen me through the most difficult of times. It has spurred me onwards when I wasn't sure. It has made me take stock of my life at various times and pushed me to make decisions.
It is the one piece of advice that I keep coming back to. Without it, I expect Petite simply wouldn't exist. For while I am stubborn, I very well may have given up before we got lucky.
Now, I keep hearkening back to this advice, as we look ahead and determine if we are going to try for a sibling for Petite. "Il vaut mieux vivre avec des remords qu'avec des regrets. Alors ESSAYE." Just TRY.
If I don't try, I will regret it forever more. I'd much rather live with remorse for having tried than with regret that I never grabbed the opportunity.
Essaye. Alors essaye.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
{This Moment}
{this moment} - A Friday ritual inspired by FindingChaos/Soulemama.
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment'
in the comments for all to find and see.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
One Mom's Life Changes; Another's is On Hold
I read a blog entry the other day about a woman in her late 30s who was preparing to give birth to her second child. She already had a precious little girl, just over two years old (as Petite is now) and she was cherishing the idea of her daughter having a sibling. She imagined two children bonding together. Playing house. Having tea parties. Arguing about which game to play. Etc. All the "normal" stuff that one would think about when on the verge of having a second child.
This mom savoured the last moments of their life as a threesome and as day turned into night, she went into labour. When the time was right, she went to the hospital and delivered her second baby. A girl. The baby arrived safely. But the mother knew. She KNEW something wasn't right with her daughter. She knew it long before anyone dared utter the words: The baby has Down Syndrome. Precious nevertheless. Loved nonetheless. Beautiful anyway. However, the fact that the newborn had Down Syndrome quickly changed the mother's imagined scenarios about what the future would now hold for their family of four. And how things would inevitably change for the older daughter.
As I read the blog piece, I shed a river of tears. I had that scare. I was there. I was labelled high risk to have a baby with Down Syndrome. I had the amniocentesis. Obviously Petite does not have Down Syndrome... but it leads me to wonder. What if? What if I were to go through another IVF? What if I were in that position? Do I want to risk it? Do I want to go through all of what that would mean? At my age, I really don't know if I could handle it. I applaud any and all parents who take on the challenges of raising any child who is differently-abled. Absolutely! I just don't know if -I- have it in me to tackle that at my age and at this point in my life.
So if we were to try again, would it be tempting fate? Playing with fire? Just asking for trouble? Would God look down at me and say, "Hey missy, you had your shot! You got what you wanted. Really? You really want more huh?" And then He would proceed to test me to my absolute limits? Would He do that?
Do I really want to find out? I don't know.
I don't know. Would I do that to my family? I don't know. Could I do that to Petite? I don't know. There are pros and cons to everything of course. But at my age, and using IVF, these are things that must be considered.
Either you make a plan to deal with it, try to foresee every twist and turn in the road and what you would do to handle it. Or...
You hope for the best and say, "We'll cross that bridge when/if we come to it."
Or...
You remain immobilized by fear. Wondering if you'll ever take the leap at all.
**********
Yesterday I published a couple of photos that I took. These pics are photos of Petite's rash. The ongoing, never-ending, irritating, nagging problem that it has become is just NOT. GIVING. UP. Ugh.
We're not sure what it is. But I've got to find out. Poor girl. I'm changing her bath wash tonight and we'll see if that helps at all. I may try to get an emergency same-day appointment with the doc tomorrow.
This mom savoured the last moments of their life as a threesome and as day turned into night, she went into labour. When the time was right, she went to the hospital and delivered her second baby. A girl. The baby arrived safely. But the mother knew. She KNEW something wasn't right with her daughter. She knew it long before anyone dared utter the words: The baby has Down Syndrome. Precious nevertheless. Loved nonetheless. Beautiful anyway. However, the fact that the newborn had Down Syndrome quickly changed the mother's imagined scenarios about what the future would now hold for their family of four. And how things would inevitably change for the older daughter.
As I read the blog piece, I shed a river of tears. I had that scare. I was there. I was labelled high risk to have a baby with Down Syndrome. I had the amniocentesis. Obviously Petite does not have Down Syndrome... but it leads me to wonder. What if? What if I were to go through another IVF? What if I were in that position? Do I want to risk it? Do I want to go through all of what that would mean? At my age, I really don't know if I could handle it. I applaud any and all parents who take on the challenges of raising any child who is differently-abled. Absolutely! I just don't know if -I- have it in me to tackle that at my age and at this point in my life.
So if we were to try again, would it be tempting fate? Playing with fire? Just asking for trouble? Would God look down at me and say, "Hey missy, you had your shot! You got what you wanted. Really? You really want more huh?" And then He would proceed to test me to my absolute limits? Would He do that?
Do I really want to find out? I don't know.
I don't know. Would I do that to my family? I don't know. Could I do that to Petite? I don't know. There are pros and cons to everything of course. But at my age, and using IVF, these are things that must be considered.
Either you make a plan to deal with it, try to foresee every twist and turn in the road and what you would do to handle it. Or...
You hope for the best and say, "We'll cross that bridge when/if we come to it."
Or...
You remain immobilized by fear. Wondering if you'll ever take the leap at all.
**********
Yesterday I published a couple of photos that I took. These pics are photos of Petite's rash. The ongoing, never-ending, irritating, nagging problem that it has become is just NOT. GIVING. UP. Ugh.
We're not sure what it is. But I've got to find out. Poor girl. I'm changing her bath wash tonight and we'll see if that helps at all. I may try to get an emergency same-day appointment with the doc tomorrow.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Public Service Announcement
I've decided to participate in Project 365. Or rather, 366; this year is a leap year, after all. (Thanks Vee for inspiring me!)
For every day this year, I will try to take a photo and post it. I've noticed that the first four posts are Christmas things I cherish. Obviously this will not endure and the theme will be changing as the year passes!
I created a new blog to store the photos. If you want to follow along, feel free.
Gil's Project 365
See you over there if you're so inclined!
For every day this year, I will try to take a photo and post it. I've noticed that the first four posts are Christmas things I cherish. Obviously this will not endure and the theme will be changing as the year passes!
I created a new blog to store the photos. If you want to follow along, feel free.
Gil's Project 365
See you over there if you're so inclined!
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
It Gets Better... Right?
This one is just depressive. Click away while you can. Really. I mean it.
I just needed to get some of this off my chest. And my blog is one of the best places to do that. So if you choose to keep reading, know that you were forwarned. So "nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah" to you.
I'm not in the greatest of places to start off 2012. I keep saying it'll get better. I really don't know though. Honestly. I'm just sort of going through the motions in the hopes that by doing so, I'll will things to be better. Does that ever work? Personal anecdotes most welcome.
This is a thought-vomit post. Hold onto your hats:
I learned two weeks ago, right before Christmas, that our original clinic in Montreal has lowered their IVF treatment cutoff age to 43. FORTY-freakin-THREE.
Crap.
I think I'm about to miss my window of opportunity, because I turn 42 in May. Which brings me to my next statement of disbelief: When the hell did I get to be 42?? Where have the last 20 years gone? Sweet mother of baby Jesus. And here I am, terrified of tossing out anything of Petite's 'in case' we might need it. Looks like the decision is about to be taken out of my hands entirely. That saddens me. It was never what I wanted. I'm surrounded by clothing, toys, paraphenalia that I hoped to be able to use again. I don't want to part with it just yet.
Petite has been toilet trained since the week after her second birthday at the end of August. However, last week, for one day only, she deliberately peed anywhere else BUT the toilet. In fact, she screeched when we tried to get her to go to the toilet. We coaxed her and returned to our original rewards program of stickers and Smarties and that seemed to do the trick. We'll continue that for a bit. She really tested us though. In fact, she deliberately peed on one of the new dolls she'd received for Christmas. Took me two days to wash that thing properly and get the smell of urine out of it. I'm not sure why she took to doing this. Some of it I attribute to the insanity and upheaval of Christmas and lack of routine. With luck, it was just a one-day event and won't repeat itself. Keeping my fingers crossed on this one.
I've spent the better part of 2011 angry at Hubby, and by extension, some members of his family. I'm trying to stop being angry, but I'm not sure how to do that. I don't have the tools in my repertoire to attain that goal. I simply cannot stop being angry; the events that brought me to this point and have raised this anger in me have deeply affected me, our family and our life. Added to that, the resulting effects are ongoing. That makes me angry too. I'm seeing someone to try to work that out, but it isn't helping at all. It's been a few months now. I'm not getting anywhere. I need something more. Or someone else to guide me. I cannot spend 2012 like this. If I do, well... let's just say that more upheaval will be in the coming months. Upheaval that I am trying to avert and overcome.
My Christmas decorations still deck the halls in my home. I am a traditionalist; they will remain up until at least January 6. I hope to make a dent in taking them down on the 7th. No guarantees though. Hubby is working that weekend so I'm not sure how much I'll get done by myself. I know that my sister had taken hers all down and it was all stored away again on Boxing Day (December 26). What a shame. It takes so long to prepare for the holiday, and just seeing the tree and the lights gives me a sense of peace (albeit temporarily so). I can't fathom being rid of it already. I will cherish it for another week or so.
I am inexplicably tired. Not tired, as in needing sleep. But tired as in worn down. Dejected. Wondering if it's all worth it. Some days, I really don't know. Many days, it's Petite that keeps me going. Her kisses. Her hugs. Her sweet snuggles at night before bed. Those things are gold to me.
I was out to pick up some meats and cheeses for our New Year's raclette meal, and what do I see, but Valentine's chocolates on the shelves? That's insane. Really people? Is there a need to jump from one commercialized holiday to another quite that quickly? Good Lord. Let us breathe for a week, willya?! Man oh man... Friggin' ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
I have not made any New Year's Resolutions, nor will I bother to do so. Honestly, after the sh*tstorm that we endured in 2011, I'll be damn lucky just to get through 2012 in one piece. So if I'm vertical at the end of the year, that's the best I can ask for at this rate. Suffice it to say, I ended this year sadder, thinner and poorer than I entered it. I like the thinner part. The 'sadder' and 'poorer' I could certainly have done without.
We did have champagne at midnight on New Year's Eve though. In fact, it was a little bottle of Moet et Chandon that was purchased to celebrate the birth of Petite, more than two years ago. It's been in my fridge ever since, unopened. In the hospital, I was shoved from pillar to post after Petite's birth, moving rooms alone, etc., and Hubby was back and forth to the hospital and the house, with my family being there for the baby's arrival. So it got overlooked. And while I knew it was there, we just never had time nor the right occasion. With the ushering out of the miserably crappy year that 2011 was, I thought it best to pop the cork on that sucker and enjoy it, and PRAY to God that 2012 is better.
Vee has inspired me. I'd like to partake in Project 365 (well, this year it's 366; it's a leap year). I'm going to try to take one picture every day for a year. My main issue becomes publishing them. Here? To Facebook? Who can say I'll have time to do that every day this year? Who can say I'll have access to a computer or method of uploading every day? If you miss a day publishing, but you still took a photo, can you upload a few photos together? Is that in the rules somewhere? (And who makes said 'rules' anyway?!) I have two pictures already. And a bunch of ideas for the coming days and weeks.
I'm dealing with an issue at the office that is royally pissing me off. I'm not sure that I can do a damn thing about it. It's making me take a hard look at the workplace I'm in.
I wish I could be a stay-at-home-mom. I wish I had won the $50 million that was won last Friday by a local couple. I wish that my situation was different.
And even as I wish it so, I know full well that the only one who has the power to CHANGE my situation is...
... ultimately...
... me.
I just needed to get some of this off my chest. And my blog is one of the best places to do that. So if you choose to keep reading, know that you were forwarned. So "nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah" to you.
I'm not in the greatest of places to start off 2012. I keep saying it'll get better. I really don't know though. Honestly. I'm just sort of going through the motions in the hopes that by doing so, I'll will things to be better. Does that ever work? Personal anecdotes most welcome.
This is a thought-vomit post. Hold onto your hats:
I learned two weeks ago, right before Christmas, that our original clinic in Montreal has lowered their IVF treatment cutoff age to 43. FORTY-freakin-THREE.
Crap.
I think I'm about to miss my window of opportunity, because I turn 42 in May. Which brings me to my next statement of disbelief: When the hell did I get to be 42?? Where have the last 20 years gone? Sweet mother of baby Jesus. And here I am, terrified of tossing out anything of Petite's 'in case' we might need it. Looks like the decision is about to be taken out of my hands entirely. That saddens me. It was never what I wanted. I'm surrounded by clothing, toys, paraphenalia that I hoped to be able to use again. I don't want to part with it just yet.
Petite has been toilet trained since the week after her second birthday at the end of August. However, last week, for one day only, she deliberately peed anywhere else BUT the toilet. In fact, she screeched when we tried to get her to go to the toilet. We coaxed her and returned to our original rewards program of stickers and Smarties and that seemed to do the trick. We'll continue that for a bit. She really tested us though. In fact, she deliberately peed on one of the new dolls she'd received for Christmas. Took me two days to wash that thing properly and get the smell of urine out of it. I'm not sure why she took to doing this. Some of it I attribute to the insanity and upheaval of Christmas and lack of routine. With luck, it was just a one-day event and won't repeat itself. Keeping my fingers crossed on this one.
I've spent the better part of 2011 angry at Hubby, and by extension, some members of his family. I'm trying to stop being angry, but I'm not sure how to do that. I don't have the tools in my repertoire to attain that goal. I simply cannot stop being angry; the events that brought me to this point and have raised this anger in me have deeply affected me, our family and our life. Added to that, the resulting effects are ongoing. That makes me angry too. I'm seeing someone to try to work that out, but it isn't helping at all. It's been a few months now. I'm not getting anywhere. I need something more. Or someone else to guide me. I cannot spend 2012 like this. If I do, well... let's just say that more upheaval will be in the coming months. Upheaval that I am trying to avert and overcome.
My Christmas decorations still deck the halls in my home. I am a traditionalist; they will remain up until at least January 6. I hope to make a dent in taking them down on the 7th. No guarantees though. Hubby is working that weekend so I'm not sure how much I'll get done by myself. I know that my sister had taken hers all down and it was all stored away again on Boxing Day (December 26). What a shame. It takes so long to prepare for the holiday, and just seeing the tree and the lights gives me a sense of peace (albeit temporarily so). I can't fathom being rid of it already. I will cherish it for another week or so.
I am inexplicably tired. Not tired, as in needing sleep. But tired as in worn down. Dejected. Wondering if it's all worth it. Some days, I really don't know. Many days, it's Petite that keeps me going. Her kisses. Her hugs. Her sweet snuggles at night before bed. Those things are gold to me.
I was out to pick up some meats and cheeses for our New Year's raclette meal, and what do I see, but Valentine's chocolates on the shelves? That's insane. Really people? Is there a need to jump from one commercialized holiday to another quite that quickly? Good Lord. Let us breathe for a week, willya?! Man oh man... Friggin' ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.
I have not made any New Year's Resolutions, nor will I bother to do so. Honestly, after the sh*tstorm that we endured in 2011, I'll be damn lucky just to get through 2012 in one piece. So if I'm vertical at the end of the year, that's the best I can ask for at this rate. Suffice it to say, I ended this year sadder, thinner and poorer than I entered it. I like the thinner part. The 'sadder' and 'poorer' I could certainly have done without.
We did have champagne at midnight on New Year's Eve though. In fact, it was a little bottle of Moet et Chandon that was purchased to celebrate the birth of Petite, more than two years ago. It's been in my fridge ever since, unopened. In the hospital, I was shoved from pillar to post after Petite's birth, moving rooms alone, etc., and Hubby was back and forth to the hospital and the house, with my family being there for the baby's arrival. So it got overlooked. And while I knew it was there, we just never had time nor the right occasion. With the ushering out of the miserably crappy year that 2011 was, I thought it best to pop the cork on that sucker and enjoy it, and PRAY to God that 2012 is better.
Vee has inspired me. I'd like to partake in Project 365 (well, this year it's 366; it's a leap year). I'm going to try to take one picture every day for a year. My main issue becomes publishing them. Here? To Facebook? Who can say I'll have time to do that every day this year? Who can say I'll have access to a computer or method of uploading every day? If you miss a day publishing, but you still took a photo, can you upload a few photos together? Is that in the rules somewhere? (And who makes said 'rules' anyway?!) I have two pictures already. And a bunch of ideas for the coming days and weeks.
I'm dealing with an issue at the office that is royally pissing me off. I'm not sure that I can do a damn thing about it. It's making me take a hard look at the workplace I'm in.
I wish I could be a stay-at-home-mom. I wish I had won the $50 million that was won last Friday by a local couple. I wish that my situation was different.
And even as I wish it so, I know full well that the only one who has the power to CHANGE my situation is...
... ultimately...
... me.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sweetest Words
(Children mentioned herein. Just cherishing some of the special moments.)
On Christmas Day, Petite woke us at about 7:45 a.m.. She had initially forgotten the hype and hubbub of Christmas and wanted to snuggle with Mommy and Daddy in our bed for awhile. We were more than happy to oblige.
When we came to our senses and realized that so many gifts were out in our living room, waiting to be opened and that we had people to thank for these lovely gifts, as they were calling later in the day, I gently reminded Petite about the tree and presents.
"Santa come?" She asked. "Yes," I replied, "Santa came and left some presents." That was it. She was eager to get a move on with her day and hopped down off the bed as quickly as possible for a two-year old.
I'll spare you the crazy details of frantic unwrapping, delight at the new gifts, and fun that ensued at our house. The day went well. Everyone had a lovely mid-afternoon rest when Petite had her nap. I spoke to most of my family members to thank them for being so very thoughtful. I thanked Hubby for having given me a raclette (which I have wanted for about 12 years to replace another one that went elsewhere). My girlfriend gave me a beautiful stainless steel electric kettle; again, something I've wanted for awhile. The turkey dinner was delicious and the wine that accompanied it went down nicely, as did the rum pudding dessert! YUM!
But the best, the absolute sweetest moment I want to remember is the following:
As I said goodnight to Petite on Christmas night, she was clinging to her new Iggle Piggle and Upsy Daisy dolls, snuggling under her comforter. I leaned down, brushed my hand gently on her hair a few times, as I do every night, and I kissed her.
"Good night my sweet baby girl. I love you."
"Love you Mommy."
"Merry Christmas my darling girl."
"Merry Kismas Mommy."
Tears rolled down my face. Never were sweeter words spoken.
When you stop and think about it, these are the moments IFers want. Nothing huge. Nothing incredible (except that it kind of is, in my view). Not the overwhelming moments. IFers want a regular life. They want the quiet, everyday moments of snuggling with their children. Of kissing them goodnight. Of taking them to the park and playdates. Of showing them the world. Of teaching them kindness and respect. Of showing them love.
And if they're lucky, to receive love like this in return. For nothing is more beautiful.
At Christmas, I wish for all of us to be so blessed and find the path that will bring us to the realization of our dreams of building a family. May 2012 bring this to you, if you are still searching. It took us almost 7 years to find our path and go from our first "try" to having a baby in our arms. I pray to God that each of us, each of YOU, are able to have that as well... and with luck, well before 7 years passes!
Much love, now and always,
Gil
On Christmas Day, Petite woke us at about 7:45 a.m.. She had initially forgotten the hype and hubbub of Christmas and wanted to snuggle with Mommy and Daddy in our bed for awhile. We were more than happy to oblige.
When we came to our senses and realized that so many gifts were out in our living room, waiting to be opened and that we had people to thank for these lovely gifts, as they were calling later in the day, I gently reminded Petite about the tree and presents.
"Santa come?" She asked. "Yes," I replied, "Santa came and left some presents." That was it. She was eager to get a move on with her day and hopped down off the bed as quickly as possible for a two-year old.
I'll spare you the crazy details of frantic unwrapping, delight at the new gifts, and fun that ensued at our house. The day went well. Everyone had a lovely mid-afternoon rest when Petite had her nap. I spoke to most of my family members to thank them for being so very thoughtful. I thanked Hubby for having given me a raclette (which I have wanted for about 12 years to replace another one that went elsewhere). My girlfriend gave me a beautiful stainless steel electric kettle; again, something I've wanted for awhile. The turkey dinner was delicious and the wine that accompanied it went down nicely, as did the rum pudding dessert! YUM!
But the best, the absolute sweetest moment I want to remember is the following:
As I said goodnight to Petite on Christmas night, she was clinging to her new Iggle Piggle and Upsy Daisy dolls, snuggling under her comforter. I leaned down, brushed my hand gently on her hair a few times, as I do every night, and I kissed her.
"Good night my sweet baby girl. I love you."
"Love you Mommy."
"Merry Christmas my darling girl."
"Merry Kismas Mommy."
Tears rolled down my face. Never were sweeter words spoken.
When you stop and think about it, these are the moments IFers want. Nothing huge. Nothing incredible (except that it kind of is, in my view). Not the overwhelming moments. IFers want a regular life. They want the quiet, everyday moments of snuggling with their children. Of kissing them goodnight. Of taking them to the park and playdates. Of showing them the world. Of teaching them kindness and respect. Of showing them love.
And if they're lucky, to receive love like this in return. For nothing is more beautiful.
At Christmas, I wish for all of us to be so blessed and find the path that will bring us to the realization of our dreams of building a family. May 2012 bring this to you, if you are still searching. It took us almost 7 years to find our path and go from our first "try" to having a baby in our arms. I pray to God that each of us, each of YOU, are able to have that as well... and with luck, well before 7 years passes!
Much love, now and always,
Gil
Friday, December 23, 2011
{This Moment}
{this moment} - A Friday ritual inspired by FindingChaos/Soulemama.
A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.
If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment'
in the comments for all to find and see.
Merry Christmas from Petite, Hubby and Gil.
May 2012 bring you and yours peace, love, health and happiness.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Blood Draws; the Vampire Strikes Again! Ugh.
To check up on how my thyroid is doing, my doctor regularly orders blood work for me. This time, I had to get it done; my prescription for medication is about to run out! Eeek!
So I went on December 8 and had blood drawn. Most of the results were normal. However, a couple were a touch off. Here are the details:
TSH (thyroid) is at 2.45. Technically this is "normal" however, if I wanted to do another IVF, I need to get that down below 2.0, and ideally, around 1.5. I had a feeling that my meds weren't doing an optimal job anymore.
Ferritin (aka iron) is at 53. That means that I have "reduced iron stores" because normal is from 80 to 300. At least it's better than what I had last year. Still not great though. Obviously I need to eat more meat.
Both monocytes and eosinophils were a touch above normal, at 0.81 and 0.45 respectively. Normal ranges for monocytes are 0.0-0.8. Normal ranges for eosinophils are 0.0 to 0.4. I am not sure what this means... some websites suggest dimished lung capacity? Maybe this is a factor of the terrible cough/cold that I'm still fighting. I suspected I might have pneumonia. I wonder if I ought to get an x-ray to be sure. Ugh. Not fun.
Those are the latest details from the vampires. On a positive note, I found a great technician at a local laboratory and hopefully I will get lucky and have her again when I need to get blood drawn!
So I went on December 8 and had blood drawn. Most of the results were normal. However, a couple were a touch off. Here are the details:
TSH (thyroid) is at 2.45. Technically this is "normal" however, if I wanted to do another IVF, I need to get that down below 2.0, and ideally, around 1.5. I had a feeling that my meds weren't doing an optimal job anymore.
Ferritin (aka iron) is at 53. That means that I have "reduced iron stores" because normal is from 80 to 300. At least it's better than what I had last year. Still not great though. Obviously I need to eat more meat.
Both monocytes and eosinophils were a touch above normal, at 0.81 and 0.45 respectively. Normal ranges for monocytes are 0.0-0.8. Normal ranges for eosinophils are 0.0 to 0.4. I am not sure what this means... some websites suggest dimished lung capacity? Maybe this is a factor of the terrible cough/cold that I'm still fighting. I suspected I might have pneumonia. I wonder if I ought to get an x-ray to be sure. Ugh. Not fun.
Those are the latest details from the vampires. On a positive note, I found a great technician at a local laboratory and hopefully I will get lucky and have her again when I need to get blood drawn!
Friday, December 09, 2011
{This Moment}
{this moment} – A Friday ritual inspired by Finding Chaos/SouleMama.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.
If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’
in the comments for all to find and see.
A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.
A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savour and remember.
If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’
in the comments for all to find and see.
Thursday, December 08, 2011
Long-Awaited Adoption Success for a Friend
I've been absent, dealing with a pox/plague at our house. A snot-filled, congested, hacking, sinusitis-riddled, weepy-eyed state of affairs that would make the most healthy of individuals weak at the knees. It's not been a fun week in our house, that's for sure. Hubby is still hacking up a lung. I missed two days of work and stumbled through a hazy fog of semi-reality for a few days. Petite is coughing too; she woke at 5 a.m. this morning with a chesty cough. I am crossing my fingers it doesn't get worse.
I know, I know. No excuses for not writing. Mea culpa.
Meh... my blog.
I write when I can. C'est la vie!
Anyway, in my soggy-tissue miserableness, I was peeking at Facebook. One of my sister's and my friends, T, finally had some happy news. I've known for a little while, but now that it's public, I can publicly post about it.
Adoption success.
After YEARS... like maybe close to ten years of waiting.
T (a schoolmate of my sister's) and her husband C got lucky this year.
Before I met my husband, they got married. They wanted a family and started trying, with no luck. Around ten years ago, when I met Hubby, they were diagnosed with unexplained infertility. Being in Newfoundland, that's a bit of a dead end; there are NO IVF clinics in the province at all. Treatment is usually done on "The Mainland" (as we refer to the rest of Canada) in Halifax, Montreal or Toronto... depending on your finances and if you have a place to lay your head while you're in the city.
Anyway, after their diagnosis, they tried a few things, but with no success. And then they quickly moved on to adoption.
They waited. For years they waited. Hoping to be matched. Hoping for a call. They did the necessary classes/courses and kept their file updated. They looked at adopting from China and got themselves on the list. We heard a few years ago (around the time I got pregnant) that it might be a matter of months and they would have good news.
Those months turned into more years.
And this year, finally, some luck.
They have been matched with a little boy, I think he's three years old, and it's going wonderfully. He spent a few weeks with them in the fall. And now, he's just been placed in their home full time. T said on Facebook the other day that she is about to be a full-time Mommy. She will get her parental leave and she will stay at home with him to help him adjust and to enjoy her new son.
T and C have just gotten their best Christmas gift ever. And it's been a helluva long time coming. I shed tears of joy when I got the news a few weeks ago. I could not be more thrilled for both of them. They are loving, caring people and will be wonderful parents. May they have many, many years to enjoy and to cherish every single moment.
Congratulations to them! *throws confetti*
I know, I know. No excuses for not writing. Mea culpa.
Meh... my blog.
I write when I can. C'est la vie!
Anyway, in my soggy-tissue miserableness, I was peeking at Facebook. One of my sister's and my friends, T, finally had some happy news. I've known for a little while, but now that it's public, I can publicly post about it.
Adoption success.
After YEARS... like maybe close to ten years of waiting.
T (a schoolmate of my sister's) and her husband C got lucky this year.
Before I met my husband, they got married. They wanted a family and started trying, with no luck. Around ten years ago, when I met Hubby, they were diagnosed with unexplained infertility. Being in Newfoundland, that's a bit of a dead end; there are NO IVF clinics in the province at all. Treatment is usually done on "The Mainland" (as we refer to the rest of Canada) in Halifax, Montreal or Toronto... depending on your finances and if you have a place to lay your head while you're in the city.
Anyway, after their diagnosis, they tried a few things, but with no success. And then they quickly moved on to adoption.
They waited. For years they waited. Hoping to be matched. Hoping for a call. They did the necessary classes/courses and kept their file updated. They looked at adopting from China and got themselves on the list. We heard a few years ago (around the time I got pregnant) that it might be a matter of months and they would have good news.
Those months turned into more years.
And this year, finally, some luck.
They have been matched with a little boy, I think he's three years old, and it's going wonderfully. He spent a few weeks with them in the fall. And now, he's just been placed in their home full time. T said on Facebook the other day that she is about to be a full-time Mommy. She will get her parental leave and she will stay at home with him to help him adjust and to enjoy her new son.
T and C have just gotten their best Christmas gift ever. And it's been a helluva long time coming. I shed tears of joy when I got the news a few weeks ago. I could not be more thrilled for both of them. They are loving, caring people and will be wonderful parents. May they have many, many years to enjoy and to cherish every single moment.
Congratulations to them! *throws confetti*
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
