Heartbreaking Loss in January 2014

So while we wait for the outcome of the Ontario election to be determined.

You see, the NDP did not support the Liberal budget throwing things in disarray and forcing an election in mid-June. To date, only the Liberal platform specifies the inclusion of IVF. The NDP have waffled on the matter, and the PCs will not support it. Guess where my vote is going? D'uh. No brainer, huh?

Anyway, back to my blog.

At one point a few posts back, I briefly mentioned the huge loss we had suffered.

For those of you who are not animal lovers, fair enough. But I ask that you respect my particular feelings on the topic.

My fur babies.

Smudge and Shadow, Newfoundland, Christmas 1997

Smudge and Shadow. Brothers, from the same litter. Born in Japan in 1995, on August 25, they came into my life 7 weeks later as tiny, miniature, black balls of curious fuzz. And I doted on them.

Page-A-Day Calendar, 1997

My boys were inseparable. I almost named them Hook and Sook. Hook would have been Smudge; he has the physical trait of the kink at the tip of his tail that is frequently seen in purebred Himalayans (as his mother was. Gosh she was gorgeous. Long, white-haired, docile thing. A beautiful animal.). Shadow would have been Sook; so named because he FOLLOWED ME EVERYWHERE! To the kitchen. To the bathroom. If I sat down, he'd be in my lap. If I lay down, he'd be sleeping on me. When I gamed on the computer for hours into the late night, he found a way to adapt to the formation of my forearms and lay there as I moused and typed.

while pregnant with Petite, Shadow sleeping with me, February 2009

Hook and Sook became Smudge and Shadow. Smudge because of the white smudge on his lower belly; gosh he loves to have that rubbed and nuzzled! He's so affectionate. Shadow because he was my shadow. After all, he truly did follow me everywhere.

They loved the occasional bit of ham or tuna. They were inseparable. They slept together, groomed together, played together, traipsed around the house together, followed me together, and spent about 95% of their waking hours in each other's company. They were joined at the hip, as it were.

Smudge and Shadow, 2008

Shadow was my delicate kitty. Sweet. A little hesitant and fearful. But oh so affectionate! In his younger years he would jump into my arms from the floor. He did that to Hubby the first time Hubby came to our house and it shocked the heck out of both of them! Hubby to see a cat fly up to his mid-chest. and Shadow to realize that Hubby wouldn't catch him in time and he dropped back to the ground! I knew then and there that Hubby was a good guy and would fit into our life. If the cats like you, you're good by me.

Shadow 2009

Both boys, being of advanced age, and having no real other physical issues, began to show signs of kidney failure about two years ago at age 16. We've been managing their symptoms ever since. They continued to eat and drink well, but we gave them medicine to combat the kidney failure, and in the last year or so, a once-a-month B12 injection. But in the last five or six months, they began to vomit.

Well, Shadow began to vomit. And so it progressed. Just around Christmas 2013, I began to see slight traces of blood in his vomit. He must have been hurting so. Poor baby. He was still active though, so I didn't do anything about it.

Shadow and Smudge

In January, the day we left on our vacation, Hubby was in the car with Petite, bags packed, and I was locking the door. I had said goodbye to the boys (our dear neighbour Marc watches them when we are away; he's such a godsend) and turned to head out. At that moment, Shadow began to vomit again. And this time, as it had been once or twice earlier that week, it was a fair bit of dark reddish vomit. Blood. My heart was so heavy. But for a cat at 18 years of age, there are no heroics that will give him the quality of life he used to have. I couldn't put him through that. I stopped, wiped up the vomit, kissed him again and left to join the others in the car. We went on with our holiday.

During our vacation, Marc kept us updated. Three days before we were due to come home, Hubby got a text from Marc. Shadow was not coming to eat. Marc looked around for him, and found him in our bedroom closet, lying in a laundry basket on some of our clothing. He coaxed him out, and got him to eat a little, but he told us it didn't look good. Hubby and I were out at dinner with our friends when that text arrived, and we told Marc that there was nothing he could do, but to please keep us updated.

That was Thursday evening.

Shadow playing with a catnip toy, 2013

Saturday, two days later, we arrived back at home around 2 p.m. When Shadow did not meet us at the door, I knew it couldn't be good. Smudge was there, to-ing and fro-ing on our legs and suitcases, but Shadow didn't make a sound. I called him. Twice. Three times. And then I heard him coming slowly out of the bedroom to greet us. He looked frail. Eyes a bit glassy. Tired. I picked him up and he was already a bit cool to the touch, as compared to his brother. I cuddled him close. I brought him to the kitchen, hoping to give him some tuna and water, which he usually loves to drink, and coax him to have a little. No way. He wouldn't have anything to do with it. I put him down. and watched in horror as I realized he couldn't control his back legs any longer. He managed to walk. swaying a little on his legs, back and forth, and he returned to the bedroom and curl in the laundry basket again. I checked on him. And at that moment, I cried.

I called our vet, but they were closed of course (it was a Saturday after all) and as I had told them, there was no point in heroics. I would not put Shadow through that. I had loved him for all 18 years of his life and I could not put him in pain or subject him to invasive poking and prodding. He didn't belong in a vet's office, on a cold, steel table. He belonged with me. He knew I was home and I needed to be with him.

Shadow, summer 2013

I resolved to leave the luggage until time permitted me to handle the unpacking. Hubby took care of our daughter. I focussed exclusively on spending as much time curled with my fur baby, the cats ensconced in the bed with me or alternatively, me next to him in the closet, for the rest of the afternoon. He couldn't jump onto the bed although he came to the side of it and managed to put his forepaws on the covers, so I brought him up there and he curled in my lap a little, letting me snuggle with him. There, I tried to say my goodbyes. Or. to start to. Shadow snuggled with his brother, for what would be the last time. When he was done, he got up and tried to jump off the bed, but he couldn't do it himself, so I helped him. He got to the laundry basket in our closet again, and lay there, partially on the floor, head and upper body in the tipped up basket, surrounded by our clothing. He loved the softness of my pyjama pants; I'm glad they were there for him.

After about 15 or 20 minutes, he got up and came out. He meowed loudly a few times. I petted him, trying to soothe him. He was visibly agitated. He got in and out of the closet twice, and then I called Hubby to come to us. Petite was in bed by this time, so it was just me, Hubby and the two cats; Smudge on the bed, Shadow in the closet. Hubby moved things aside and sat with him in the closet a few moments, until about five or ten minutes later, when Shadow's breathing changed. It got raspy, ragged. Deep breaths followed by long pauses. I knew it was time. I said, "Do I need to be there?" and Hubby replied, "Yes. Yes you do."

Shadow and me, taking a nap, 2010

I got down with him, sitting beside him. The tears came. I stroked his silky, soft, shiny fur. I whispered to him, "It's okay Baby Shad. It's okay sweetheart. It's okay. You can go if you need to. I love you. I've always loved you. I know you have to go, and it's okay. It's okay." I think I repeated those phrases a hundred times; I think I was trying to convince myself that it was okay to let him go at that point.

His breathing got increasingly shallow, and he lifted his head one last time. I stroked his cheek. Stroked his nose and back down his head, smoothing his fur. My hands were on him at all times. I asked Hubby to get a towel for me and I draped it over my shoulder to pick him up and hold him in a position that he used to love. He was almost gone. and I needed to cuddle him.

I did just that. I held him in my arms as he took his last few breaths and slipped away. He had to go, and I had to let him.

And as he went, my heart broke. My Baby Shad was gone.

Shadow relaxing in the sun on his kitty perch, a favourite spot

After about half an hour, I lowered my baby Shadow and the towel into my lap to curl him there. I sat with him for about two hours. I couldn't bear to tear myself away. We righted the laundry basket and placed him, towel and all, in there for the night. I couldn't bear to have him far from me just yet. It would take time.

Shadow died on January 25, 2014, just after 11 p.m. surrounded by all the love I had to give. He had given me so much over the years. My boys were my constant companions. Through thick and thin, they had given me unconditional love and I returned it to them as good as they gave.

Something tells me he waited for us. He knew he was going to have to leave us, but he waited for us to get home. When we arrived home earlier that afternoon, when he heard our voices, sniffed our scents, curled in my arms, he knew. He just knew he could finally let go. And I will be eternally glad that he waited for me.

Smudge and Shadow 2005

I found a wonderful, caring, compassionate pet bereavement centre who helped me make arrangements. I have Shadow's ashes in an urn, and when the time comes, his brother's ashes shall join his. The two shall be together again someday; it's only right. My boys have always been together. I take comfort in knowing that part of me went with him. As a family, we all made contributions to a keepsake envelope that was cremated with Shadow, and I tucked in one of the grey, felt, catnip mice that Aunt B (who passed away a year and a half ago now) made for the cats. Shadow loved his catnip! Aunt B loved my boys too and I know she will take care of Shadow until I get to see him and cuddle him again.

Last photo of Smudge and Shadow together, January 25, 2014

Rest now dear Shadow. You gave me so much. I am grateful you waited for me to be there. But I know it was time. I love you my sweet Boo. I will see you again and so will your brother.  I promise. Go play in the sun my boy. You deserve the rest. I love you.

********

When the time is right, I will get a tattoo to commemorate my boys. I have wanted it for years and after Shadow was gone, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. Now that I have a design in mind, when all is said and done, I will get that tattoo. It will be exactly what I need. I look forward to it, and I'll certainly show it off when it's done. 

Thank you for reading. If you have pets, hug them tightly on my behalf, and tell them how much they are loved. 

Birthday Balloons and Surgery Upcoming

November 6 would have been my Aunt B's 79th birthday. We lost her last summer when she was 77 after a very short 6-week illness. It was a shock. It still is, quite frankly. There are still days here and there when the phone rings and for a split second, the thought runs through my brain, "Oh, it must be Aunt B; haven't heard from her in awhile." And then a moment after that, "Damn. That won't happen. There are no phones in heaven." About once a month, Petite says something like, "I wish Aunt B could come down and visit us." Or "Can we Facetime with Aunt B too, like with Nana?" Not easy.

Anyway, to commemorate her birthday, just like we do for the day she died, we let some helium balloons soar into the skies to carry our birthday wishes up to her.

Me and Petite with birthday balloons for Aunt B

Love you Aunt B. You shall always be remembered because we will never forget. *blows a kiss*

VSG Surgery Update

Yesterday I went to the pre-surgery information class at the hospital. It was a duration of a couple of hours to discuss what our pre-surgery liquid diet was like, restrictions post-surgery, diet post-surgery, types of food phases we need to work through over a period of months, etc. Honestly, there wasn't a whole lot there that I didn't already know from being a member on the forums on www.obesityhelp.com. I did learn the lifting restrictions are 10 lbs and less only for 4-6 weeks. I learned more about the types of vitamins and supplements that are required post-surgery. I know that I can purchase half vanilla and half chocolate of the pre-surgery liquid diet. 

And I learned that I cannot travel for 4 weeks post surgery. That means that likely, my surgery will not happen until I return from the trip down south in January. I know right now they are scheduling surgeries for early December. The 4-week no travel restriction would already interfere with my trip so we will sit tight on stuff and I'll have it done when I get back. Not to worry. 

Next up is my appointment with the surgeon. That is next week. When you get this far in the process, usually surgery is about 4-6 weeks after that appointment so I know I'm progressing through the entire screening program they've established. I'm so ready to get this show on the road! Anxious and excited. Kind of like how I felt when I was doing the IVF. Not quite as nervous I suppose... seems to me that the IVF determined more of what my future would look like. 

I mean, while this surgery is (hopefully!) going to do the same, all I've ever known is my current weight, so even the concept of imagining myself at a lower weight is unknown. Definitely the road not travelled. I've never seen myself like that because I've never been like that. Yesterday in the class, people spoke about surgery and weight loss permitting them to do some activities again, like they used to when they were thin/average. I couldn't contribute anything like that. I have nothing like that to look back on. 

They tell us to browse through magazines, determining our own style post-surgery; what sorts of clothes to buy, how to re-image yourself. I cannot fathom that sort of thing because I've never in my life been a normal weight. I stopped looking at fashion and style when I was about 13 or 14, because by then, I was already in plus sizes. So after surgery, I expect I'll be the one wearing my same baggy clothing until it falls off me... literally! We shall see.

Hope all are well out there in Blogland. Boy, I have to catch up with my reading... so much happening with you all!

Grieving and Moving Forward (or... trying to)

I have been gone for so long, I don't know whether I can do justice to a post here anymore. I feel removed from so many aspects of my life; like I'm sitting on a park bench and watching life and all that it encompasses fly past me at record speed. Life feels foggy. Hazy. Thoughts feel jumbled and scattered.

Or maybe it's just my thyroid meds.

I probably ought to check my TSH levels again.

Or maybe it's just my way of trying to process the death of my aunt.

Truthfully, I don't know if I ever can. I'm still in shock and disbelief. Just last week, I was in my kitchen, preparing dinner when the phone rang. For a fleeting moment, I thought, "Oh I wonder if that's Aunt B? It's been so long since I..."

I seriously got that far into the thought before I remembered. And as the phone finished it's shrill ring, I broke down in tears, overwhelmed by grief that came at me out of the blue.

That sort of thing happens every couple of days. Today, I was in a fabric store, looking for something for Petite's Halloween costume and I thought, "I wish Aunt B were here. She would know what to look for," and a tear rolled down my cheek.

She's gone. I never expected that her sudden fall and subsequent departure from my parents' home (and her own home) to go to the hospital that day in June would herald the end of her life and she would not have a chance to return to her own house. She never got to finalize anything. She had unfinished projects here and there. She was not ready. Not really prepared for her days to end. And I never truly got a chance to say goodbye. She never got a chance to see Petite one last time. I will always regret that.

On August 8, I took Petite and flew home for a week. I shed so many tears knowing that she was already gone and I wouldn't see her while I was at home. It felt weird to be sitting in my aunt's house, around her kitchen table--with my parents, my other aunts and uncles, and Petite--and not to have Aunt B there.

Watering the plants at Nana and Poppy's

While home, I had the opportunity to speak for a number of items in her house that I could not bear to see lost to a donation pile. She lived alone and had a house full of furniture, cherished things, photos, items, from my grandparents' days and from her own life. And everyone in the family already has so many things; I mean, how many place settings or sets of dishes does a person need? My parents have their fair share of those things. So do my aunts. But how can you let her favourite tea mug be tossed out? Or her scissors (as she was a seamstress)? Her sewing machine? The beautiful paintings on the walls? How do you let those things go when you haven't really even had time to say goodbye to the person they belonged to and you just want to cradle everything tightly in your lap and never let go of any of it? Because you so badly want to bring that person back to you and you somehow think that by holding her cherished possessions close to you, she is close to you? How do you let go? How do you let pieces of your loved one end up in a bin for strangers to paw through and barter over? It's all too much for me. So very overwhelming.

I walked into my aunt's bedroom, together with my mom, and my two remaining aunts. The four of us were going to go through Aunt B's jewellery and choose a few pieces for ourselves and to give to others. Aunt Li, the one who used to live with Aunt B for many years, and who is the executor of the estate, walked to the dresser and pulled out something. She turned to me. In her hands was a small red pouch. Aunt Li spoke, "Gil, this is for Petite. We want her to have it from Aunt B." (I'm sobbing as I type this. Bear with me.) I was puzzled. I had no idea what the three sisters had done. But it quickly became clear to me.

I took the red pouch, and carefully opened it, slowly tipping it to catch the contents in my left hand.

Aunt B's wedding ring slid out, onto my palm.

I started to cry, and I was promptly handed a tissue. Aunt Li held her own tissue and took a breath, and she reminded me of Aunt B's own words from her hospital bed a few weeks prior, "Now no snottin' and bawlin'. None of that." We laughed through our tears; that was just like Aunt B. Petite and Aunt B had a very special relationship and knowing that Petite has Aunt B's wedding ring is more than I could possibly ever imagine. I will guard it carefully, cherishing it until the day comes for me to turn it over to Petite. She will never remember Aunt B. But she has her as a wonderful, watchful guardian angel. Of this, I am certain.

Playing in the playground where Mommy used to play when she was a girl 

I picked out a few more pieces of her jewellery for myself. The string of pearls she loaned me for my wedding day. The family ring belonging to my grandmother. Two sets of earrings (studs and hoops). A gold rope chain.

I chose a few paintings and pictures in the house. Aunt B had one of Petite's first drawings (done at 20 months) framed on her bedroom wall; I will bring it back to our home and keep it for Petite. I will take some of her dishes, her butter dish, a few special mugs, some bedding (it is the perfect colour and size for Petite's new double bed), some of her sewing items (yes, I took her scissors and her pinking shears) and other items. I went through her shoes and sneakers; Aunt B and I had the same size feet although my foot is a tad wider, but some of her shoes fit me. It was hard to go through her personal items. I will have her sofa and loveseat shipped to me as well; we need a new sofa badly and I cannot bear to see her gorgeous set go to just anyone. My aunts are having items shipped to them too, so the moving company will take it all together.

While at home, we held a visitation at the funeral home on Saturday, August 11. I spent some time creating a little paper, "Memories of Aunt B" that I compiled after talking with her nieces and nephews and their families. I also pulled together a lot of photos of Aunt B over the years and loaded them onto a digital photo frame; it played random photos throughout the afternoon. At the funeral home, we had a number of people come to visit who simply could not believe that Aunt B was gone. Her death was so sudden, and completely unexpected, that it shocked many people.

I took a few quiet moments to touch the beautiful, simple urn that held her ashes and say a little prayer, letting her know that Petite and I were there. Late... but we were there. And we love her and will miss her always.

On Sunday, August 12, we drove out to Cape Spear. The most easterly point in North America. Aunt B loved to go there to feel the wind in her face and watch for whales, or just revel in the roiling waters against the rocks below the steep cliffs. Cape Spear is where Hubby and I got married. It has a magical pull about it; every time I go home, I make an effort to go there for an hour or two. Aunt B loved it there too. On Sunday the 12th, we took Aunt B there for one last visit. Aunt Li took a vial of her ashes, as Aunt B wished, and we took some flowers to scatter into the wind, against the rocks, atop the waves.

Flowers for Aunt B, scattered at sea

Aunt B will always be there, every time I visit. And I hope to visit her often. Her urn was taken to King's Cove a couple of weeks ago for a private inurnment alongside her husband' final resting place. It is what she wanted. I hope she is at peace. I pray for her to visit me and tell me she is, to come to me in a dream and tell us she is all right. My aunts remained in Newfoundland to finish up clearing out Aunt B's house, sorting through her things, holding a garage sale, and selling my aunt's house and her car, dealing with her estate.

Petite and I left Newfoundland and returned to the Capital, and one week later (the last week in August), Hubby, Petite and I packed up and drove down to New Brunswick to be with my family for a week. The drive was relaxing (we enjoy driving holidays) and we loved seeing family members together. I spoke with my cousin and his wife, who had flown down to Newfoundland quickly and seen Aunt B the week before she died. It was my cousin who helped me Skype with Aunt B on her last 'good' day, bless him. It was the only closure I got.

We had glorious weather. My sister flew up with my little nephew from West Virginia and the two cousins had a wonderful time playing together. We stuck them in the bath together. They cuddled and had fun out on the back deck together. It was a quiet time, for the family to just BE together and lick our wounds, so to speak. I think we all needed that. And having the two kids there as a distraction was fun. My nephew is a gorgeous little boy. I hadn't seen him since he was two months old so it was a blast to rediscover him at almost 15 months.

Cousins playing; Petite's 3rd birthday

My sister, my mom, my cousin's wife and I gathered together the first night we were there and Mom gave my sister some of my aunt's items. It was a difficult time. My sister didn't really want to face it; didn't want to handle dividing up my aunt's jewellery or decide who got her leather jacket. The fact that she didn't really get to say goodbye either is hard on her too.

While in New Brunswick, Petite had her 3rd birthday with our family. She was adamant that she wanted a Cinderella cake, and that is exactly what she got, along with some fun toys and beautiful clothing, books, toy instruments, etc. Poppy got her a car with a "'mote control" that my sis brought from the States. She LOVED that.

We did another birthday back at home with a few of our friends and their little kids. We decided to head to a bowling alley and everyone had a GREAT time with that too! It was the first time for most of the kids to bowl but they really enjoyed it to the fullest. I worked diligently to make a Cinderella doll cake for Petite and it turned out nicely if I do say so myself.

Cinderella cake for Petite's birthday

As for us... we have made some life-changing decisions.

We will not cycle again.

I am at peace saying that, at long last.

There are a number of factors that went into that decision, and I know that I would love Petite to be a big sister. However, so many things make it hard on us, as a couple and it isn't the right choice for us, right now. Alas, "right now" is really all we have, given my age. I will not get another opportunity to do an IVF cycle, as I will be 43 next year and that is the cutoff age at McGill if you wish to use your own eggs. We looked at our finances, which took a hard hit with the first IVF (and all the years that came before that), the two years of school that Hubby did, and then the issue of not finding work quickly enough. We looked at the fact that we are just now finding our independence again, beginning to go out now and then as a couple, now that Petite is a bit older (and has been toilet trained for more than a year now). We looked at the fact that we may not get as lucky next time; not just in that I may not get pregnant, but what if we had a child with special needs? That would take away time, energy and money from the little girl that we worked so hard to have. I don't want to do that to her. I want to focus on the gorgeous little girl we DID get lucky enough to have. I want to enjoy her to the absolute fullest. I want to give her whatever I possibly can. I want to enjoy our life as a family and move forward. We are in a good place now and if we do it right, things will get better.

Cheeky girl

So in making that decision, I did not call McGill to start BCP in September and then to do injectables/monitoring in October with a view to retrieval mid-month and an HCG blood test around Halloween.

And making that decision meant that we could finally go through Petite's clothing and baby items, my maternity stuff, etc., and hold the mother of all garage sales. This garage sale was about five years in the works. We have done just that, and the sale brought us about $700. I hope that someone can use the treasured things that we so carefully chose for our little girl. I still have some clothing to consign and/or donate. I'm working through it. And I kept a huge bin of special items for myself.

In having that garage sale, we cleared out our living room, sold our old sofa and chair, and we have repainted with a view to prepping the room to receive the furniture from Newfoundland. I want to order something online for the wall. I'll take a few pictures when it's all done. I'm still looking for curtains and curtain rods, but I suspect that will have to wait until next weekend. There are only so many hours in a day.

We also purchased a new vehicle. Our warranty expired this past summer in the middle of the grieving and travelling, and knowing that we had some repairs on it, it was time to handle that as well. We opted for a Chevy Orlando (not sold in the USA). It's on a par with the Mazda5, sort of a cross between a minivan and an SUV, with three rows of seats for 7 passengers (and very little cargo space) or 5 passengers and plenty of cargo space. Petite's seat takes up a good part of the second row so we can fit 6 comfortably, or 7 squished.

Chevrolet Orlando 2012

And last week, The Wiggles brought their farewell tour to our city. Aunt B bought our tickets to The Wiggles in the summer of 2010. We had a lot of fun. I had expected to give it a pass this time around, but it tugged at my heartstrings, and knowing that it is Jeff, Murray and Greg's last time with the group, and then I spotted tickets on Groupon for a quarter of the price, I jumped at it. We went to the matinee show and we had fun.

The Wiggles, October 16, 2012

Keeping an eye on some bloggers these days: 
After a number of miscarriages, Monday is the day that Mo and Will (Life and Love in the Petri Dish) ought to meet Magpie, their little girl. Mo will be induced and I am hoping and praying that things go well.

And Keiko (The Infertility Voice) got a BFP after a donor egg IVF cycle. I am thrilled for her. And I can relate all too well to her difficulty transitioning from "infertile" to "pregnant infertile." There isn't much out there for those of us who have travelled that particular path.


You're still reading? Thank-you. I'm finding my way back but it may take time. At least now,  you're all caught up. And for that matter, so am I. Love to you all in blogland.

14 Months

I've been laid up for a little while with what started as a cold, and has developed into pneumonia. Oh joy. I sorta feel like I've been run over by a truck, but I really hope the antibiotics I was prescribed are doing their thing. I hope to be back at the office tomorrow.

It's been a busy few weeks. My mom and aunt visited for five days, enjoying their time with Petite immensely. They just can't get enough of her and they love to dote on her. It's wonderful to see. They also were very generous with their time and filled our freezer to the brim with meals that ought to let us have one or two pre-prepped dishes per week until at least Christmas. So yummy!

We're in the middle of planning my stepdaughter's Sweet 16 party too. I cannot believe that she's going to be 16 years old! She was such a little tyke at barely 6 years old when I met Hubby, and here she is excited to be on the verge of getting her first paying job, and obtaining her driver's licence! WOW! Where did that time go? It's incredible. Anyway, she selected a Red Carpet themed party so we're working to get it all together before next weekend. I spent all of last Sunday helping her do the invitations. Cross your fingers that it all gets finished in time!

Add in extra choir practices for me for the upcoming holiday season, stepson wanting to join next week at "Take Our Kids to Work" day, and the fact that Hubby is up to his armpits in mid-term exams, and you have a crazy household.

Anyway, that's what we've been up to of late. And Petite? She's doing amazingly well.

She's a little parrot, repeating (or trying to repeat) any single syllable word we say to her. She's mastered a lot of them and is attempting multi-syllabic words like blueberry, doggie, chaussette (sock in French) and a few others. It's wonderful to hear her little voice. She's enjoying the feeling of spinning round and round and will stand and spin for fun in our living room. It's cute to watch! Not so cute when she falls over and hits her nose on a toy (resulting in a bruise by her nose, on her right cheek) though. She is beginning to try to walk backwards and is sitting down on the hearth and getting up again repeatedly. She can climb onto the couch in the blink of an eye and walk the length of it. She loves to climb up and down on us if we're sitting down somewhere. She has done a few pieces of artwork for us at daycare; including a little Thanksgiving Turkey (the outline of her foot is the body, the outline of her hands cut in different colours of construction paper makes up the wings). Those are items I'll save for when she is older. And for when I'm older too. :)

For your viewing pleasure, a photo or two taken at Saunders Farm when we went out in mid-October for our annual jaunt with the kids and our friends. Enjoy.

Quick shout out to Mo and Will, who are seeing a doubling beta and with luck, all will continue to go well. Also, watching Baby Interrupted as she is hitting her EDD this week. And the same goes for I Can't Whistle. I am crossing my fingers that their next days are peaceful, joyous and wonderful.

Finally, it's done!

So without further delay, here are the photos of the new and improved "room that shall not be named."

We started out by ripping up the baseboard and quarter round, and then hubby tore out the old, stained and icky parquet flooring. We screwed down the subfloor (because when the house was built, nails were used) and then I proceeded to paint all the walls. The colour is a Be.hr paint (Desert Moss, #360F-5) to match the colour of the suns, moons and stars in the curtains. Then we laid down the new laminate flooring (10mm, cherry) before we put down the new baseboard and quarter round. Then came the wainscot on the lower portion of the walls, and the chair rail capped it off. I caulked the edges, painted the trim/wainscot and voilà! All in all, it took us about two weeks to do, working at it in the evenings after work for a few hours a night.

What do you think?





Yes, that wind chime is from Japan. It's one of the many souvenirs that I brought back from my time over there. I think I have something from Japan in every room of the house!









Note: Just for reference, our house is a three-bedroom bungalow with a finished basement built in the mid '60s. So it's sturdy like nothing else, but it also means we're working with old framing.

On the fertility front, we're still on our self-imposed hiatus and the drug-free thing is superb. I am glad we are taking this time. Next cycle is the bloodwork; I'll skip it this month because my mom and aunt will be visiting at that time so I'll go deal with it next month. And then we'll cycle again. I have a much better outlook right now and I don't want to lose that in the spiral of depression that often occurs with IF. But trying to balance the age factor with needing some time off is a tough thing. Glad I have projects like this to keep me occupied!

Before I sign off, does anyone know how I can reach Flicka over at Vacant Uterus? She's gone PW-protected and if she'll let me, I'd love to continue reading. If you know how to reach her, please contact me (e-mail info in my profile) with her info and I'll get in touch with her. Thanks in advance!

Pictures! (No, not the room... yet)

A few of you asked for updates on the room. Much to my chagrin, it's not QUITE finished. While I am definitely very ambitious, I am obviously not realistic! Apparently my dad thought I was "hiring" someone to do this work, and my sister was under the impression that I was taking time off work to do it all. No, gosh no. None of that! Tsk tsk! It's all my doing and it's being done every evening after I get off work. I'm plain tuckered out. But wow, the room is looking spectacular. I have a little more caulking to do tonight (I ran out of caulk last night) and then a last coat of paint on the wainscot to cover joints and nail hole fillings etc. One last going over with the dustcloth and I'll clean the windows and then it will be done. Before I reload the room, I'll take pics, I promise! Okay? Happy now?! Sheesh!

Though to appease you, I thought I'd put in some sort of pictures. These are two pics of my (fur) babies. Smudge (on the left) and Shadow are now the ripe old age of 11 years. I got them in the fall of 1995 while living in southern Japan and I brought them back to Canada with me in 1996 when I returned after three years in the Land of the Rising Sun. Even at age 11 they're still full of mischief and they are just gorgeous. And yes, if you are astute, you can see that the time on the digital box does indeed say "5:28"... that would be a.m. people. Hubby and I are up at 5 and I'm at my desk at 6:40 a.m. for my day. Ugh. On the bright side, we do get home by 3:30 p.m.! Okay, here you go... my "babies"...





P.S. To answer Shlomit, I work as a Senior Technical Writer–Editor (cum Translator) for... *whispers* the officers in red serge. Hubby is an IT support specialist and his shift is from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. Because he and I carpool (our offices are close) I get up to go with him at that unearthly hour. You do get used to it though; I love having my afternoons to run errands and such!

Florida Vacation

So it's been a busy week. Can't you tell?



Hubby and I went with my family up to Orlando to the Magic Kingdom. A friend had requested this pic, so I thought I'd share it with you.

A smile. Yeah. And it's on MY face. Colour me surprised. That happens so rarely lately.

Hubby commented yesterday (while we sat in the hot tub with coconut rum drinks in hand) that he's seen me relax a great deal in the last week or so. Slowly but surely the heavy weight seems to be floating away.

It was until last night that is. My mom and aunts, being fans of Rod Stewart, wanted to watch the Christmas special that was on TV last night. I was wiping the table after dinner when it came on and lo and behold, the title of the Christmas special was "A Home for the Holidays," Rod Stewart's contribution to... finding homes for adopted children. I just couldn't watch. I fled to the bedroom to have a little cry, resolving myself NOT to ruin my family's vacation. Mom saw my face and followed me to the bedroom. She wrapped her arms around me and I said, "I'm sorry. I won't ruin your vacation. I won't." I sat down on the bed, head in my hands and she sat down next to me, put her hand on my back and said, "I was waiting for this. Gil... you ARE my vacation honey." Words cannot express how thankful I was at that precise moment to have my mom close to me.

She soon left and I flipped on the TV to see what ELSE was on. I came across a rerun of Reba; the episode where Reba's teenage daughter Cheyenne gives birth. Then another Christmas holiday thing; an abandoned baby on a doorstep. Then yet another Christmas thing with a child's Christmas pageant being portrayed. Argh!!!! That was when hubby and I mixed drinks and went to the hot tub. When all seems lost, coconut rum numbs the pain. Temporarily at least.

Here's hoping I can avoid the Christmas weekend touchy-feely specials that all seem to include children. My emotions can't handle that very well right now.

Sending love to you all in blogland and certainly much love to Smarshy and M at this difficult time. I hope your holidays with the Buggins bring you joy, happiness and a sense of wonderment at this special time of the year. *hugs*

The Red Wench Arrives

Aaaaannnnndddd... bingo. The arrival of the red wench. No, I don't mean Mrs. Claus. All of you in the IF world know exactly to whom I am referring don't you? Yes indeed. She's come to ruin my joy.

All that money this month for meds and donor samples and no luck. I really thought we had a chance. I'm out for this month. And I'm out for next month too; hubby and I will be away during this cycle so unable to do anything. I need a break anyway. We still have two donor samples on ice at the doc's. And I'll take a month away from all my meds and maybe from temping too. The meds I take are not required, and were I not trying to have children, I wouldn't be taking any of them.

Thank you all for your good wishes and hopes though. Knowing you are all there beside me gives me comfort. I know you understand when the tears start to flow.

In the meantime, I thought I'd post a few of those pics of Taffy Lane. The kids really enjoyed it and so did we.
Trees and Wreaths
Taffy Lane at Christmas
Taffy Lane or Candy Cane Lane?
More candy canes!
Can you imagine the light bill?
Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hannukah, etc. to all the folks in blogland. May your holidays be filled with friends, family, laughter and love. But most of all, love. Peace on Earth and goodwill to all.

P.S. I may get a chance to post from the beach in Florida; if not, I'll catch up with you all in the New Year.