{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.

Where to Turn When No One Will Help?

I've been very quiet about the personal issues I've been dealing with lately.

I've come to realize something though: while I'm dealing with them, they're not MY issues. They're LaGrande's issues. But they are plentiful. And I no longer know where to turn. Here's what's going on in my world at the moment. Hold onto your hats. It's a doozy of a ride; and here you thought the IF rollercoaster was something!



We're dealing with repeated self-mutilation. Some that has required hospital intervention.

Then came skipping classes.

Then it was lying to us and going to a rave with a friend.

Where she got drunk. Like TOTALLY drunk. So much so that she touted on Facebook in a private message, "I wasn't totally drunk. I still remember everything."

And took the next day to recover.

Next we found out about the drugs. It started with weed, then moved to speed.

And she is no longer taking her anti-depressants but states that she wants to die... just not to kill herself.

In the past two weeks, we've talked to her. Tried to get her to discuss what's going on. We're pretty open minded and fairly easy to talk to. But all this in one shot? Quite a bit to handle ain't it?

Then as a consequence of her actions, we grounded her for one month. She rebelled and said she refused to follow our rules. We handed her a suitcase. Then called Drug and Alcohol intervention. Who redirected us to the police. Who redirected us to mental health. Who redirected us to a shelter for women. Who redirected us back to mental health crisis intervention. Four hours later, intervention workers came. We reduced her grounding to 2 weeks; dependent on her actions in those two weeks it could be extended to the one-month original grounding.

That same night she asked to have a friend sleep over FFS!!! /boggle

This past weekend, her good friend tried to commit suicide. That was followed quickly by her own cutting (again). I had her mom come get her and take her to the hospital (I had to stay home with Petite). The hospital let her go. The next day, crisis intervention workers saw her at her mother's house.

No dice. We've spent the last two days shlepping her from hospital to intervention locations and everyone is passing the buck. No one will say, "She needs help. We will help her." Not. One. Soul. But we continue to try. Today started at a hospital; she got sent to another hospital... the same one she was at yesterday. They're saying she's not "serious" enough about her statements and she really doesn't mean it.

Next Hubby is bringing her to a walk-in mental health crisis centre. (Oh yes, Hubby has had to take a few days off work to deal with some of this too at this point. And I've been trying to schedule the family therapy sessions during my lunch hour.) While at that centre, La Grande will be told that she cannot come back to our home until we can get her some treatment, and she agrees to adhere to that treatment AND THEN MAKES THE DAMN EFFORT instead of flaunting it behind our backs, and telling her friends that she is "pretending" to be better so she can get off her anti-depressants.

Look, here's the long and the short of it: We have a two-year old. I work in law-enforcement. There are basic rules that must be enforced in our home to ensure job security and personal safety. We cannot continue to let her call the shots. Respect is paramount. I expect normal teenage crap. This shit ain't normal. Nor do we have to put up with it in our home.

What pisses me off though, what really gets me f*cking riled is this:

In this big, wide, supposedly great city, with apparently LOTS of resources, health care that is supposed to be stellar, and all that crap, the city where a teenager committed suicide last week because of bullying (LaGrande is bullied too; two days ago, another mom stood up for her to a bunch of teens... and their ignorant parents), no one, not one person, resource, location, program, whatever will say, "Yes, we can help her."

NOT ONE.

No one will help us. I need to ensure the safety of my family, myself, my home and my job. Enough.

I found out this morning she had a few hits off a bong with a friend on Monday afternoon. While she was grounded. And she knew that if she did it again, her bags would be packed for her.

Tonight we are packing her clothing and personal items. She will no longer be permitted to live in our home. When we see changes, real and pertinent changes, we may discuss reintroducing her to our family. Until then, for safety's sake, it just can't happen.

Bear with me everyone. It's been a very difficult few months and these last two weeks are really trying my patience. If you have experience with this sort of thing, feel free to weigh in.

Fifth Disease

Yet again, this thing has reared its ugly head.

Petite has Fifth Disease. Again. Or rather... still.

Two weeks ago, on Friday, September 30, we noticed this rash. It looked a bit like hives in some spots. It looked itchy, but it didn't seem to bother her at all. She was a little sensitive and touchy, but other than that, she was happy and playing just as normal.

Over the course of the weekend, the spots and rash migrated, disappearing from her torso and reappearing on her legs, her arms, her face (I know why it's also called "Slapped Cheek Syndrome"!), and other areas. And then, it subsided by Sunday night, and on Monday morning, October 3, she was fine again.

Until last Friday.

And on Friday morning, my caregiver called me to say that Petite had "hives" in a few spots on her body, asking if we'd given her any different foods, or changed detergents or anything. Nada. By Friday night, her underarms exhibited the same nasty rash again. And over the weekend, the rash and hives did the same thing: they migrated, moving around from torso to legs, to face, to arms and (almost) everywhere in between. This morning, it was her legs that were covered. I do mean "covered." There was barely a spot on her legs that didn't have some degree of redness.

To appease my fears and reassure our caregiver, Hubby took Petite to the clinic this morning. The verdict is in: Fifth Disease, just as we suspected. It can last up to three weeks or so. We still have another week to go apparently.

At least she's cleared for daycare and she's still happy and energetic.

***************

Sending love and wonderful wishes to Kelly who had her little girl on October 13. Congratulations Kelly, as you enjoy these first amazing days. It's never boring and it's the most rewarding thing you'll likely ever do! Welcome Blakely!

{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.

The Winner of "Win a Baby!" is ANNOUNCED!

This morning at 7:15, I was glued to the radio. I had to hear the results of the contest.

The New HOT 89.9 was about to announce the winner of their (controversial) contest, "Win a Baby!" And there was no way I was going to miss it.

Hubby was up and getting Petite into her jacket and sneakers, getting her ready to go with me to daycare for the day. I was ready to go out the door, purse and lunch sitting in the front hallway so we could run as soon as I heard the announcement and switched off the radio to head out for my day.

But for those few moments, I was totally engrossed in the announcement. All five couples were at the radio station, live on the air with Mauler, the host. And one or two took to the air to say thank you to the radio station for putting on the contest at all and giving them the opportunity to hope.

And then the moment of truth. Who gets to win a baby?

Mauler took the envelope from Josie, the program director at the station. He opened it and said, "The winner of the Win a Baby contest is...

...

...

all of you. You ALL get up to $35,000 worth of infertility treatments."

Many tears were shed. And I'm not talking about at the station.

In my kitchen, with Petite and Hubby watching and listening, I started to sob with relief for all of these couples. I was totally overcome with joy and hope. What an incredible gift. I knew it would be emotional and really, it didn't matter to me WHO won, just that someone, one lucky couple would get the opportunity of a lifetime.

Hearing that all five couples get that opportunity, well that just blows me away. It's wonderful. It's incredible. It's life-changing. It's a huge weight taken off their shoulders and their hopes and dreams have a place to be channeled now.

What a beautiful, wonderful thing this radio station has done for five lucky couples. Five families. Five extended families. For their friends. For everyone that surrounds them with love and hope and joy.

I clapped my hands and wept with joy for each of them. Because they now have the opportunity to try to bring a new life into this world. And that is the greatest gift of all.

Congratulations to all the winners. May the treatments succeed and may your lives be changed forever in the most wonderful of ways. I only hope you all have the blessed opportunity to have what Hubby and I have; it truly is amazing.

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.

Who gets to "Win a Baby"? / Life's Sh*tstorm

The New HOT 89.9 is in the voting process for their sensational contest, "Win a Baby."

Alas... Hubby and I are not one of the five finalists. I wish we were. But we're not. Five couples have been chosen and while the ads on the station discuss the mountain of applications (over 400!) that came in, and the fact that they wish they could grant the wishes of every applicant, it is only the five finalist couples that have the opportunity.

So as an infertile, who is a proponent of voicing infertility issues, who is trying to raise awareness, I pass on the link to all of you, others in the community, who may wish to weigh in with your vote.

Which couple should win? Good question. I have my preferences of course, and my reasons for voting as I did. When I read the story snippets that are outlined on the radio station's website, there were things that jumped out at me, indicators, that said, "Yeah, I can relate to this couple." Or, "Not at all. This couple could do X, Y, or Z to get pregnant. They don't need IVF."

But I let you determine for yourselves. Who would you vote for? Go to The New HOT 89.9's website and read the information and cast your own vote. Keep in mind that the numbers of votes each couple receives is not visible. And in the end, the suitability of the couple will determine whether they receive treatment; just because they have the most number of votes doesn't mean automatically that they will receive the IVF treatments.

***** ***** ***** *****

In my world, I have a lot of things going on at the moment. Some aren't so positive. In fact... let's be honest. I have a fair sh*tstorm I'm dealing with right now. It's not fun. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. I could write pages and pages about the details, but should I? No. Probably not. Yes, it's what's affecting me at the moment; it IS my story right now. I can't say that it isn't my story to tell.

Mel's post today resonated with me. She talked about the "Shiny Happy Bloggers" and the need we feel to write only about the positive things in our lives, sometimes out of fear that someone will post a comment saying something to the effect of, "You have no right to feel this way and no right to complain. Look at how great your life is!"

I definitely feel that. While I recognize that many things in my life are so much better than others, there are things that aren't always great. There are tough times, believe it or not. I choose to write mainly about the positives, but there are days... dear God, there are days... *tears out hair* There are moments I want to scream and shout and hide away, because dealing with so much crap thrown at me is frustrating, draining, tiresome and it makes me angry. Right now, a professional thinks that I am dealing with much, much more than most people deal with. Certainly much more all at once than most people have to deal with. I'm generally a very positive person. I'm ambitious. I'm stubborn (to a fault) and I strive to make things work. I am logical and have rationale for my thoughts, ideas and actions. Usually. But sometimes, I just want to curl in a ball and make the world go away.

Then something makes me stop and think, "I have a beautiful little girl that loves me and who I love beyond words. Get over yourself." And I move on.

But that desire to curl in a ball still rears its head on occasion. This week is one of them. I don't know how much I want to write about it though. I should feel free to express myself on my own blog. One would think, right? I wish. I honestly do wish. Mel said it best:

Writing your way through your emotions is more important than pleasing a reader. Because at the end of the day, you shouldn’t care what I think. You shouldn’t be catering to me — you should be catering to you and what you need to say because YOUR blog is YOUR space.

A Sense of Humour

(Children mentioned in this post.)

Petite's got herself a sense of humour! Just like her Daddy and her big (half-) brother. I love it.

Last night at dinner, Petite was happily eating her meal, no problem and LaGrande and I were discussing the day and upcoming plans over our dinner. Next thing we know, Petite holds up her hands and shrugs, saying, "Fork?"

We turned to look at her (she's in her highchair at the corner of the table between LaGrande and me) and we didn't see her fork at all. So we start looking. Did she drop it on the floor? No, we would have heard it. Did she drop it beside her leg in the high chair? No, not there. Was it under her tray? Nope, not there either. Where in heavens did it go?

A couple of minutes of looking and LaGrande and I were totally perplexed. Petite was giggling her butt off though. We thought she found it funny that LaGrande and I stopped eating to look for her fork.

But the little stinker! She laughed aloud, a broad smile on her face and she reached behind her back and pulls out her fork, holding it high in the air, triumphantly. We laughed with her. Of course, then it was a game; she did it repeatedly and I held up my hand to my forehead, as if searching the horizon, saying, "Where's the fork? Here fork! Come here forky, forky, forky!" calling loudly for the fork to come back. And we repeated the search for fun, all to amuse her and hear her laugh.

It was fun. I love to watch her little personality develop and shine. She's a sweet, loving, gorgeous little girl. And I am SO blessed. Don't I know it.

A Handful of Busy

There's a lot going on right now and just trying to keep up is getting the better of me. As evidenced by the dizzy spells I've had this week. Two people said I really ought to get my doctor to check it out, but I expect it'll pass. At least, that's what I'm banking on.

I'm researching the answers to the questions that I'll be asked on camera on Monday for the TV interview that I'll be doing. I hope I can convey the points that Conceivable Dreams is looking to convey. Wish me luck.

My doctor called yesterday: she is referring me for an MRI for my right heel. I've had pain for more than a year now and I started physio last week. The physiotherapist said, "That's an Achilles tear. Partial or full, I don't know. But that's all Achilles, not bursitis," and he asked for the name of my doctor. I can only surmise that it was his doing that helped get me that referral. We'll see what happens. I have physio again tomorrow morning.

Today is Friday. I usually try to do a This Moment post. Alas... I have no photos for you. Well, I do. But I haven't downloaded them yet. I promise I will. I just need to try to find some time. My time is so tight these days, that I haven't even had a chance to call my own mom this week! And that's a shame. Because I know so many of us have lost our moms already, all all of you would be beating me with a stick saying, "Call your mother!" I'll try to squeeze that in tonight after bathtime routines.

Children mentioned hereafter: Life/Petite Update

Hubby is working 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. (or sometimes 4 p.m. to midnight) so I see him for maybe 15 minutes per day: some in the morning, and a few minutes in the evening if I'm lucid enough to chat for a few when he gets home. It's tiring me out though. I am keeping tabs on LaGrande and her whereabouts and social life (as required of any 16-year old!) and of course, caring for Petite when I'm not at the office. I make up the menus, do a lot of the shopping and deal with meals, sometimes with Hubby's or LaGrande's help for example, in preparation or just putting something in the oven and turning it on before I get home from work with Petite.

And there are nights like Wednesday, when Petite refuses to go to sleep. After a bedtime story, and a snack and milk, she needs to brush her teeth. While she's sleepy when she's having her milk and story, getting her up to do her teeth wakes her up and then she plays and tosses and turns for an hour or more. Wednesday, she didn't go to sleep until almost 10 p.m.! It's crazy. I tried starting the routine earlier last night, and she went to sleep by about 8:50. Still late, but better than 9:50! I sometimes fall asleep next to her but it isn't the ideal situation, now is it? Ugh.

Petite continues to do amazingly well with using the toilet. So much so that at daycare yesterday, she took her nap in her panties, rather than a diaper. Last night after dinner, she peed a little at the kitchen table and immediately stopped herself, exclaiming, "Pee!" LaGrande took her to the washroom and Petite finished the job. She does this on a regular basis now, if she ever starts to have an accident. No big deal. I'm glad that we have hardwood and laminate flooring!

She needs another haircut now too. As an infant, her hair grew excruciatingly slowly! But wow, has it ever picked up the pace! I can't see her eyes anymore. And I need to have it trimmed before we go to the pumpkin patch and Saunders Farm next month for our traditional Halloween outing with the family.

LaGrande got a part-time job and we're thrilled for her of course! It does throw a monkey wrench into the family outings and such, but it's okay. After all, it's what is supposed to happen. And honestly, having a job will give her a boost of confidence again. Good for her! We all need someone to believe in us (other than our parents!) now and then. I'm so proud!

Anyway, all that to say I'm just tuckered out. Life is dealing me a handful of busy and I'm dealing with it. While I'm still reading all of your blogs, I rarely get time for my own. Bear with me; this too shall pass. And I'll upload pics as soon as I get them.

Sending love to...
A shout out to Michelle, who after 35 weeks, had a C-section last night because pre-eclampsia was about to rear its ugly head. Her twins have arrived! We're waiting for updates, but all reports are good. Go say hi and tell her congratulations!

I'm also watching Kelly's blog closely because she is also 35 weeks and almost ready to meet her little girl. I hope everything goes smoothly for her!

Denial of Treatment to the Obese

I heard this on the news this morning: Canadian infertility doctors are considering adopting a policy that would prevent obese women from obtaining fertility treatments. (See: Globe and Mail Article: Canadian MDs consider denying fertility treatments to obese women)

Some studies suggest obese women need more fertility drugs to produce enough eggs during an IVF cycle. This can obviously sometimes result in adverse reactions and side-effects to the drugs required.

Some studies also suggest that obese women are more prone to complications during pregnancy, such as gestational diabetes, high blood pressure (and thus possibly strokes) which would negatively affect the pregnancy.

However, others are arguing that, for example, treatment isn't denied to smokers, who statistically are more prone to having pre-eclampsia during the pregnancy or underweight babies at birth.

Those of you who know me in person, yes, I am obese. My BMI would present a problem for many fertility clinics. However...

• My blood pressure is fine.


• I do not have diabetes.


• I do have long-term thyroid issues.


• I have PCOS. (Both this and the thyroid have contributed to higher weight and a difficulty in losing weight.)


• I do go to the gym between 3 and 5 times per week (for 1+ hours at a time).


• According to my doctor, I am perfectly healthy.


• I confess, I would like to lose between 20 and 50 pounds. But that will still see me with a BMI that is "obese."

And yet... our first IVF worked. I had no problems during the pregnancy. My blood pressure remained great. I had no problems with gestational diabetes. I made sure my thyroid levels were good during the pregnancy. The entire 40 weeks were completely unremarkable in fact. I only gained 9 pounds.

The only time I had trouble in the pregnancy was because of a gall bladder attack, and that is not specific to obese women; it occurs with a large percentage of women who are pregnant. My gall bladder has since been removed.

So should I, by definition be denied treatment? No. I don't believe so. I believe in evaluating the individual, individually. I don't believe that blanket statements or policies which don't take into consideration underlying causes or lifestyle factors is beneficial for the population as a whole.

If Canadian infertility doctors had already adopted this policy, I would never have had the opportunity to be a mommy the first time. I would never know the joy of my little girl. Never feel her kisses or hear her laughter. Never know the fun of experiencing life through her eyes.


If Canadian infertility doctors adopt this policy, I will never have the opportunity to have a second child. And I weigh less now than I did when I did our first IVF.

I'm troubled by this sort of thinking. I am cognizant of the fact that yes, many women can benefit from losing weight before infertility treatments. Absolutely. But I don't necessarily think that denial of treatment simply based on BMI is the right way to go. Not at all.

This saddens me. Many couples and women in this country can be great mothers, and weight has nothing to do with how well (or poorly) they treat their children.

In Canada, another factor comes into play: money. The almighty dollar. For in most provinces, my own included, fertility treatments are not covered by the health care system. So if patients are knowledgeable and aware of the risks, the treatment, the cost, as well as the issues that obesity brings to the table, in the end, it is THEIR money. They should be permitted some determination on how to spend it, should they not? Essentially, a doctor would be restricting a patient from trying, even though the cost of trying is burdened solely by the patient. I suppose there's also the cost of caring for the patient in the event of complications though; that is covered by the health care system so maybe that is why this comes into play.

All in all, a very tricky path to be on. For if treatments are restricted and unavailable to the obese or those with a body mass determined to be too high, where do we stop? Do we then ban treatment for smokers? For those with chronic diseases? For those who drink 'too much'? What about incomes? Can we study the bank accounts of those who walk into infertility clinics?

When are we taking it too far?