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.

Two Years Ago

Two years ago today...

on August 25, 2009...

(on my EDD in fact)...

at 40 weeks exactly...

at 10:15 that evening...




my water broke.

I remember every moment, like it was yesterday. My mom and my aunt were upstairs. Hubby and I were in the basement; I was on my computer, copying MP3 files to my MP3 player for the hospital. The absolute last task I needed to complete to say I was 'ready' for whenever Petite made an appearance.

Hubby went upstairs, leaving me in the basement alone. I finished up the copying and took the SD card from my computer. And as I was logging off... pop.

I felt the water before anything else and I jumped up before it gushed everywhere, and went to the bathroom which was about 25 feet behind me. Yanking down my shorts, I sat down quickly on the toilet, baby moving vigorously in my belly. The liquid just kept coming, and coming, and coming. Non stop. I knew it wasn't pee; I could just tell. I just knew. I remember putting my hand over my mouth and thinking, "This is it. This is it. My water just broke! I'm going to have a baby." I was in awe. Totally amazed at the process. I remember it was pale/clear. Not yellow like urine. Or red to indicate a problem. I remember it got all over my clothing, a little on my chair, and more again on the bathroom floor. I remember being VERY excited.

But I was alone in the basement. And no amount of yelling would have brought anyone to me; they wouldn't have heard. So I waited. Water flowed. Eventually, I heard someone come downstairs. It was my aunt. She was coming to the washer and dryer, not far from the bathroom. I called to her through the walls and said, "Can you get Hubby please?" She said she would and went back upstairs with the basket of laundry. He came downstairs and I told him, "Come in." I unlocked the door for him, stretching from the toilet. He found me on the toilet, wet from the waist down. "I think I need some towels." He stared wide-eyed, "Your water broke?" "Yup. We're going to have a baby."

I soaked through the towels he gave me. I actually took a shower before we went to the hospital as labour didn't start yet and we had time that hour in the evening. But I remember those moments as clear as day. I wore my brown maternity capris and a blue/brown maternity shirt to the hospital. I was leaking water all the way (I had a towel stuffed down my pants, but that still didn't stem the tide!) and I wore a smile as wide as the sun. I'm sure I did. I didn't care who saw my wet pants. I really didn't. For I was about to have a baby. And THAT made everything perfect.

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

Today, August 25, 2011, Petite is about to turn 2 years old. I am planning a Dora-themed party for our backyard pool on Saturday, her birthday (yes, I was technically in 'labour' for 45 hours, but labour had to be induced).

Today, August 25, 2011, my two cats, my babies that I brought back from Japan in 1996, turn 16 years old. My boys are my furbabies. They are inseparable. They have lost a lot of weight since Petite's birth and are wary of her. But they still love cuddles and love from me. And I love them. I snuggle with them at night, and cuddle them (when I can) during the day. My babies are the best.

Today, August 25, 2011, my darling cycle buddy, Vee, is about to celebrate her little Boo's second birthday too. But she is also mourning yet another loss. She has been through so many amazing highs and lows. Realizing she and her sweet husband Max needed IVF to have a child. Finding out Max had cancer. Success at IVF; and a due date (the same as mine!). Wondering if Max would be alive to witness the baby's birth. Having their little Boo come into their lives. Watching cancer deteriorate her husband's body. When Boo was merely 9 months old, she said goodbye to Max as he slipped away. Mourning his passing. Celebrating his life with amazing art, with the help of other IF bloggers! Realizing she needed a new start and she found a new place to live. Watching her Mum deteriorate from cancer. And now... this week, she mourns the loss of her Mum. I know she is aching. I know she is in great pain and suffering from grief. Boo's Nonna didn't get to see their new house. She won't get to celebrate Boo's second birthday. Vee needs hugs. Oh so many hugs. Go say hello. Give her a hug. She needs as many as she can get right now.

Much love to all in blogland.

Alex's Passing (with addendum)

Today, my heart aches. For today, Alex (aka Max) has passed.

I "met" Alex years ago, when I started looking around on the Internet for information about trying to conceive when you have no sperm to work with! There were very few blogs then, and even fewer written from the male point of view, but somehow, I found Max's blog, Dynamo Dad (currently inactive). He talked about having Azoospermia and wanting to have a child with his wife, Vee. And in his words, I found comfort. I read about his journey for awhile before I started reading Vee's blog, The Sweet Life (currently password protected). And then, after more time had passed, I began writing this blog. And I got to know Alex and Vee, and came to share in their story.

Vee and Alex had begun TTC in November 2005 with their first IUI. And as we all know, the journey goes on and on. But for Vee and Alex, there was a helluva bump in the road; Alex was diagnosed with cancer in February 2008. He was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer, Leiomyosarcoma. It did not respond to treatment... at least, not well enough. And so they wondered if they ought to continue their journey to build a family.

The decision was made to do so, and as luck would have it, Vee and I cycled at the same time in November/December 2008. We both got VERY lucky and got BFPs. Our due date was the same, August 25, 2009. Vee and I took comfort that there was someone going through exactly what the other was going through at the exact same time. We have gone through our pregnancies together. We sent each other gifts and cards. We e-mailed each other for support and with questions. I sent them a "hope" care package at one point, simply because I was thinking of them and praying for them. We kept up to date with each other's birth story for the babies when that happened last August, and since then, we have watched our children hit milestones together. Their little boy Doudou is so beautiful; there's too much cuteness to behold! I get to see the wonderful photos that Vee uploads to Facebook and I get to smile at the family that they have built together.

And yet, all along, the cancer continued to ravage Alex's body.

There was doubt that Alex would be alive to greet their baby. And when he was able to be there, I rejoiced for them.

They wondered if Alex would be able to share the baby's first Christmas. And when he was able to be there, we rejoiced.

They hoped Alex would be there to celebrate the new year and the changing of the seasons. And he has been there. And we rejoiced.

They wished for Alex to be there to celebrate their first Easter, and when he was, we rejoiced.

And all along the cancer continued to wreak havoc on Alex's fragile body.

Over the last few months, Vee and Alex discussed Alex's final wishes. A little while ago, they had to modify their home to accommodate Alex's needs. Vee reached out to her friends to help her at home, for Alex could no longer be left alone. And Vee wept with grief, knowing that there was no coming out of this. And we all wept alongside her for the downturn was evident.

And yesterday, Alex took a turn for the worse and Vee watched him gasp for every breath. And we cried alongside them. Vee asked that he not be afraid. And my heart broke for her and their family and for their little boy.

Today, I have just learned that Alex has passed. The tears roll down my cheeks for I wish their little boy could grow up knowing his daddy. I wish Vee didn't have to say goodbye to her husband. As she says, they were meant to grow old together. I cannot fathom the grief they feel today. I wish things were different. I wish for so much... and yet, none of it will come true.

So instead, I wish for peace. I know that Alex feels no more pain. I know that one day, he will see Vee and their little boy again. I wish Vee comfort, in knowing that we all share her grief and we support her. I wish them love. I hope that the memories of her beautiful Alex will live on. I know that their baby boy will hear about how very much his daddy loved him.

And still I shed tears, for life has not dealt them a fair hand. They deserved more than this. We all do.

Grief marks us today, but it will not mark us forever. We shall move on and rejoice in the fact that we knew Alex at all. And one day, when Petite gets to meet their little boy, and I get to hug Vee in person (I will make that happen), I will raise a glass with her in Alex's name. For he is a wonderful man, a strong man, a beautiful person, a doting father and loving husband.

Alex, may you rest in peace and may God hold you in the palm of his hand until one day, your family is with you again. Watch over them and keep them close, just as we pray for your safekeeping and peace. We love you Alex. God bless and Godspeed.

Addendum

Before his passing, Max asked Vee to convey that in lieu of flowers, donations should be made to the Rainbows For Kate Foundation in his memory. I will certainly be doing that myself, as obviously being in Canada, I cannot attend the memorial in Australia on Friday morning. But you can be certain that is exactly where my thoughts and my spirit will be...