Studies in Imperfect Perfection

Updates

2011-10-07T16:35:00.004-06:00

I think it's time I stop pretending I'm going to go back and add in all the posts I missed in the past few months. Because really, it's just not going to happen. Instead, we'll have to go with the ol' list of what has happened this year:

*Husband has a birthday. Not a milestone birthday, but a birthday nonetheless.

*Husband's employer, for whom he worked for 12 years, starts to go under.

*Husband panics, decides he must get a new job immediately before layoffs occur.

*Husband succeeds within a week. In this terrible job market. Of course.

*New job is ok, but in Provo (ick) and not exactly what was promised.

*Bright side to Provo job: a return to awesome health insurance and abandonment of sorry-excuse-for-insurance former health plan.

*Husband perseveres at new job but is not totally happy.

*Family drama (not us, fortunately) ensues, as it always does.

*Husband gets phone call about potential job. Decides to go to the interview on a whim, not realizing it is far, far away.

*Husband loves everything about potential new job other than location.

*Husband gets job offer.

*Wife begrudgingly accompanies Husband on weekend trip to new job location.

*Wife intersperses bits of sarcasm with a bad attitude and tears re: new job and its location.

*Husband and Wife decide new job is best for family and Husband's career.

*Wife has another kidney stone at most inopportune time. Nearly passes out at work. Must be driven home by boss. Fortunately, it passes without further incident.

*H&W spend inordinate amount of money furnishing second residence to facilitate commuting between home and W's job and H's new job.

*H&W commence part-time long distance relationship whilst simultaneously working butts off.

*H&W spend weekends immersed in endless home improvement projects and yard work.

*W settles 2 cases (hooray!), gets weird job offer close to H's new job but temporarily declines.

*More drama. Wife stressed.

*H loves job, and everyone at new job loves him. Of course.

*H told of promotion within a few months. Hooray.

*W has a birthday. A golden one, no less.

*W settles 2 more cases. Much celebration ensues.

So, life has been a bit crazy for us lately. I don't think either of us have ever worked so hard in our lives, and I can't remember the last time I wasn't tired. But we're hoping, really really hoping, that all these sacrifices and hard work will be rewarded. And soon.

Lola Turns 3

2011-07-29T13:45:00.002-06:00

Today is Lola's third birthday. Even though we bought Lola and Bella from the same breeder, they have different parents and are exactly one week apart. Despite being together for essentially all of their lives, they could not be more different in personality. While Bella is submissive and calm, Lola likes to think she's the alpha dog in any situation (and is apparently oblivious to the fact that she weighs six pounds). Lola is bossy and sassy, and knows how to take charge. She terrorizes poor Izzy, my parents' dog, even though Izzy is ten times her size! She's also figured out how to manipulate us, which is more hilarious than anything else. When she was little she would get overly excited and start to wheeze, and we'd get very concerned and pay her a lot of attention. So now that she knows this, if she feels she isn't getting enough attention (or Bella is getting too much), she will start wheezing for no reason so we'll drop what we're doing and attend to her. She's also figured out that if she closes her eyes and makes a cute face when she's in trouble, we won't be able to finish disciplining her because it's just too funny. Now all I have to say is "Lola!" or "Girls!" in a stern voice, and she makes this face with her eyes closed.

Lola loves to be wrapped up in blankets. Whereas Bella is my little shadow, Lola is Brian's best friend. She cannot wait for him to get home from work, and makes the saddest little yelping noise when she hears his car pull into the garage. We've had to start taking them out right when he gets home, or she gets so excited she loses a bit of bladder control. Her favorite thing to do with Brian, aside from playing, is to cuddle under a blanket. The minute she sees him sit down with a blanket nearby, she'll hop on his lap and start pawing frantically. This U of U blanket is her very favorite, because it's soft and thick, and she can be wrapped in what we call a "Lola-rito". Silly, I know, but she loves being bundled up like a burrito, almost like how a baby loves to be swaddled.

Although Brian is her favorite, every once in a while Lola will choose me. At night she loves to sleep under the covers almost at the foot of the bed, unless I let her curl up between my knees or against my calves. But my favorite is when she wants me to hold her. Sometimes, out of nowhere, she'll hop on my lap and paw at me until I pick her up. She'll put her head down on my shoulder and nuzzle my neck a bit, and I just love it!

Lola loves rawhide sticks, though she lays on them and hoards them. We're working on sharing treats and toys with her, because sometimes she'll steal Bella's stick and hide it from her. I can hear Bella howling for me to come fix the situation and Lola growling at her, which I imagine is like children fighting over a toy. It's funny how you can decipher their little noises and know what they're trying to communicate. When we first got Lola, we noticed that she would make a loud sighing/griping noise whenever you moved or bumped into her while she was sleeping. Now it's so funny that she complains about being disturbed that sometimes I do it on purpose just to hear the funny noise!

When not cuddling with us, Lola loves to find warm spots. She loves the heating pad and any spot on the ground where sun shines through a window. She'll recline for hours in a sun spot, no matter where it is, and on occasion we'll find her in some precarious perch savoring just a sliver of sunlight. But just this year she overcame her fear of ventilation (we're still working on the inexplicable fears of vacuums and the lawn mower). She used to steer clear of vents and would run away whenever heat or air switched on, but now she's figured out that a bath mat and a heating vent make a comfortable lounging spot, but it's not too convenient when I'm trying to get ready in the morning.

Although it's not in the picture (it's what I'm holding up by the camera to get her attention), Lola's favorite possession, hands down, is what we call her "make out baby". When we first got Lola and Bella, the breeder gave me a toy for each of them. While Bella shredded hers pretty quickly, Lola made hers last. Sometimes she'd chew and shred her toy, but soon she figured out that she liked to lick and suck on the toy. She would put her paws on either side of the toy and rotate back and forth, just like she was making out! It is still pretty disgusting to see it from the side view, with her tongue rippling and she makes out with it! Obviously the toy became really gross really fast, and one day she pulled out enough stuffing that I just threw the whole thing away. I was totally unprepared for how devastated Lola was! She searched frantically through her basket of toys and pouted when she couldn't find her beloved baby. So I quickly went out and bought Bella a new stuffed bunny and Lola a new stuffed duck. The duck's bum was pointy and shaped similarly to the first make out baby, so I hoped it would work. As it turned out, Lola loves make out baby, version 2.0, even better. Even though Bella gnawed off one of the legs (and then promptly threw it up in their kennel--that was a fun clean-up) and the poor duck's butt looks mangled and threadbare, I'll never throw away this make out baby.

Finally, here's proof that although they can antagonize each other, and most of the time Lola is chastising Bella for one thing or another (taking her baby, getting too close to her rawhide stick, taking too long outside), Lola really does love her sister. She gets anxious when they're separated, and she almost always prefers to sleep on some part of Bella rather than just next to her.

So happy birthday, baby Loli-worm! We love your sass and your crazy personality, and couldn't imagine our lives without you!

Bella Turns 3

2011-07-22T13:41:00.005-06:00

Today is Bella's third birthday. I know to some it might seem silly to document pets' birthdays. But Lola and Bella are our kids, and I definitely love and treat them as such. Bella has such a sweet, friendly personality.

She loves to cuddle, especially on soft blankets or a freshly made bed. One of her favorite things is to take her front paws and rake through the covers of a made bed until it's nice and undone again, so she can burrow under them and make herself a perfect spot (which explains all the pictures on blankets or messy beds).

You wouldn't think a dog would care, but she loves texture. She will seek out the fluffiest, softest of blankets and sheets for a lounge spot. And don't even think of deterring her, because she won't stop until she's found the spot she wants. She is also really smart, and has learned more tricks and commands than Lola. She knows "sit", "lay," "drop it", "howl" (which is so hilarious to hear--I need to get it on video), and "feet", which means to jump into the basket of dog towels we have by the back door so we can wipe her feet after being outside. If she accidentally forgets and runs upstairs, all I have to do is call out "feet" and she will drop everything and run all the way back downstairs to have her feet wiped. She knows "night-night" means it's time to go to bed, and "outside", along with commands to use the restroom. She also knows "bye-bye" and "Grandma's", which mean going in the car and going to my mom's house. Her favorite is obviously "treat", though "drink" is a close second. Although she didn't pick it up as quickly as Lola, she also knows what to do when I say "where do you go?", which means she runs to her kennel for a treat when I'm ready to leave for work in the morning.

She is so calm, good-natured, and obedient, aside from our backyard where she sometimes likes to bark, and sniffs and explores so much that she pretends she can't hear me telling her it's time to come inside. But overall she will do whatever I say and is the best snuggler. She especially prefers me over anyone else, which I love. She whines when I leave the room, and will squirm when anyone else is holding her if I'm nearby. At night she has to be touching me in some way, and if I move over to get some space, she'll scoot with me so we're still touching.

I've never seen a dog love toys as much as Bella does. She always has to have a stuffed animal--we call them "babies"--by her even if she isn't actively chewing it. She loves to chew them and make them squeak, and takes special relish in biting a hole in them and pulling out the stuffing bit by bit. When I'm busy cooking or cleaning, she usually follows me around to see what I'm doing. When I'm showering she likes to peak her head around the curtain just to see where I am and what I'm doing. But if she's not right by me, I can guarantee that she's found a fluffy blanket and a baby to chew. Her new obsession this year has been tennis balls. She's finally big enough to fit her mouth around them, though it's a challenge. But her favorite thing to do with them is to bat them under the coffee table with her paws, then stick her paws in between the slats on the bottom of the coffee table to push the ball round. It's so weird and funny to watch!

This is Bella's blanket, which we call her "blue blank". It didn't start out as hers; it was a Christmas gift last year from my sister-in-law. But the minute we unwrapped it and put it on the couch, she would not leave it alone. It is by far her favorite blanket, and she always finds a way to be on it--even if it falls on the ground or is stuck so she can only lay on a small part of it. She gets so excited when we get blue blank out because she knows it's time to cuddle.

I know, I know, animals dressed as humans are a bit ridiculous. But I love that our dogs pretty much let me do whatever I want. Since Bella is a bit on the chunky side (we just tell her she's curvy and proud), she made an adorable pumpkin last year for Halloween. She is so friendly and happy, and she loves all the attention she gets from nieces and nephews (whereas it tends to stress Lola out a bit).

So happy birthday, sweet girl. We couldn't imagine our lives without you! Here's to years and years and years of more birthdays!

An Anniversary

2011-07-17T14:28:00.001-06:00

Today is our seventh anniversary. Seven years seems like such a long time. I don't feel that much older, but on the other hand, I have a hard time remembering what it felt like to be single. I remember things I did, places I went, accomplishments I checked off my list, etc. But it's hard for me to imagine what it felt like to live anywhere else or be anyone else or have that part of my identity--the married part--not exist. Maybe it's because I didn't feel in any particular hurry to get married or escape singlehood. So maybe my feelings during my single life, because they're pleasant, aren't particularly memorable. I surely never thought I'd be getting married at 20; in fact, I struggled for a while with the decision because I felt like I was just too young. And really, I was. I doubt anyone is really ready to get married at 20. How, at 20, can you possibly know who you are, and what you want to do, and with whom you want to do it for the rest of your life?

What I mean to say is that even though I was really young--too young--I don't regret it. I think marriage is, above all else, a huge leap of faith. We have been truly happy in the past seven years, truly frustrated, truly angry, truly sad, truly depressed, truly contented and calm, etc. Marriage is hard. Period. I think it's probably the hardest thing we do here. Because unlike parenthood or any other typical family relationships among parents, children, and siblings, marriage is (typically) a choice. You can choose to be married to someone, and you can choose to divorce. But you can't un-choose your family, you know (well, not with the same ease and frequency)? So that element of unconditional, unbreakable love isn't implicit in the relationship. That kind of love has to be earned and tended every day. And that, my friends, means hard work. That isn't to say marriage is all hard work. In fact, there are some things about marriage, especially a marriage that has progressed past the newlywed stage, that are so easy and effortless. You learn each other's habits, routines, likes, dislikes, thoughts, fears, emotions, facial expressions, etc. on levels you didn't know existed when you were just dating. I love that I rarely have to spell out what I want, what I need, what I'm thinking, etc.--such little things like a subtle squeeze of my hand when he can see from a slight change in my facial expression that the off-key singing in church is killing my ears; a brand new tube of my favorite but hard to find chapstick just waiting in my end table drawer because he noticed I was low before I did; a hand on the small of my back on the down escalator due to my juvenile and totally irrational fear of them, etc. But little things like this add up, or at least they to do me. They're the building blocks of a life together, and I store up happy little memories like these to help me overcome irritations and frustrations that inevitably come of two opinionated, different adults sharing a life.

I'm lucky to have married someone who knew how to help me figure out all those things I didn't know then and, quite frankly, still don't know. I'm not sure I'm any closer to knowing who I am or who I want to be, but maybe that's meant to be a gradual, everyday-type process that evolves as you age. As much as I wish I could see the end from the beginning, I'm thinking it's okay that I can't. So when I look back at our wedding pictures or think back on that day seven years ago, I don't see a scared, clueless child unprepared for a huge life decision like marriage. I see someone so young and with so much to learn...but also overcome with hope and sheer joy as she found someone to learn right along with her.

A Perfect Fourth

2011-07-05T11:32:00.001-06:00

I just love the 4th. I would take it any day over Christmas! I think it's because I'm such a warm weather lover, and it's much more fun to be outside barbecuing or boating. Plus, I'm a sucker for fireworks.

We were so lucky this year to have the perfect combination of activities that struck just the right balance between busy and relaxing. On Friday we had a barbecue with Brian's family, after which we sat around roasting marshmallows and talking until 3 am. On Saturday we slept in (the best and most important part of any Saturday, in my opinion), ate breakfast together (almost never happens), and spent the day doing yard work (I'm sure Brian was thrilled with that). After admiring our blooming flowers and veggie pots, we got cleaned up and decided to run to the store to get food to grill. On our way, we drove past Mazza Cafe, and realized we hadn't been there in ages and it sounded delicious. So even though I had half-wet hair and no makeup on, we decided to scrap our grilling plans and eat there anyway. It was probably the best meal I've had in a while (that and I was super hungry, so everything tasted incredible). 9th & 9th is such a cute neighborhood, and as we walked back to our car, we saw that Dolcetti Gelato had replaced the Starbucks on the corner. Dolcetti makes the best gelato in Salt Lake, so we couldn't resist--pistachio for Brian, salted caramel for me.

The next morning, I was excited to wear my red and white dress I'd gotten for Brian's graduation four years ago but totally forgotten I owned (do you ever do that, or is it just me?). Paired with a navy cardigan, I felt very festive at church. Afterward, we scrambled to pack our stuff and our puppies to head up to Bear Lake with my family. We had so much fun staying at my aunt and uncle's perfectly located beach house, eating like pigs, cuddling the new baby, playing Rook and dominoes, boating, roasting marshmallows, and making idiots of ourselves kumbaya-ing (belting Celine Dion's cheesiest and inventing 3-part harmony to John Denver's "Annie's Song" a la "My Best Friend's Wedding", minus the helium). I'm pretty sure I'm going to be paying at the gym for all the treats I ate, but that didn't stop me from copying all the recipes.

The only negative was that on the drive home I became a bird murderer. As we were driving, a bird flew right into my windshield and, without being too gross, essentially banged and splattered its poor little head. I felt so bad, even though I know I couldn't have done anything differently. I wanted to stop and give the poor thing a proper burial, but everyone looked at me like I was nuts to suggest it. So sorry, little bird, for your untimely death at the hands of my unforgiving windshield. Rest in peace.

Anyhow, bird massacre aside, we had a perfect holiday weekend. Hope everything was equally perfect in your neck of the woods.

Paris, Please

2011-06-08T11:09:00.000-06:00

Just when it seems I couldn't get any more behind in my blogging and journaling, I go and outdo myself. Well done, self. In the spirit of continued procrastination, I won't even attempt to detail what's been going on over the past few months. Maybe later. Instead, I wanted to post about this amazing contest Jordan at Oh Happy Day is hosting for a trip to Paris!

It's been 8 years since Danyelle and I spent a fabulous summer studying abroad in France and then traipsing around Madrid. I'm dying to go back!

If you want to enter, here's the link: http://ohhappyday.com/2011/06/goes-to-paris

Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Phone Fumbles

2011-04-04T13:26:00.005-06:00

I haven't blogged in so long and so much has been going on...best that I procrastinate some more, hmm? Our receptionist is out today, so that means everyone has to take a turn answering the phone. I hate the phone.

But sometimes, answering the phone (while still annoying) can make me laugh and/or wonder what on earth just happened. Exhibit A:

Phone rings. Others are at lunch, so I pick up. I say the name of the law firm. Young-sounding girl sort of giggles and ask to speak to Victor. I explain that this is a business and no one named Victor works here. She insists he does. I tell her no again, she hangs up.

Five minutes later, the phone rings. I pick up and say the law firm's name. Same girl asks for Victor. Again, I calmly and nicely explain that this is a law firm and there are no employees named Victor here. Instead of arguing, she simply says ok and hangs up.

Thirty seconds later, the phone rings. Again I pick up and say the law firm's name. Same girl asks for Victor for the third time. I again explain that this is a law firm with no Victor employed here. I casually remind her this is the third time in five minutes she's called, and I've given her the same information. She suddenly becomes defensive, angrily informing me it wasn't she who called (a lie), she has several people working on this account (likely another lie), and I didn't need to be so rude to her. Um, what? For starters, I'm not an idiot. I am capable of recognizing a voice to which I've spoken three times in five minutes. And I wasn't ever rude. So, whatever, I hung up the phone in the midst of her junior high rant.

So, Victor Whoever-you-are Wherever-you-are, some girl desperately needs to talk to you. But make sure you aren't rude, okay?

Post Edit: Not five minutes later, some delivery man comes up to my office and tells me he has a delivery for a guy I've never heard of. I tell them there are several offices in the building, so maybe this person is renting one of them. He gets frustrated with me and tells me he needs to leave his delivery right now and he's putting it in my office because his directions say so. Um, no, no you're not. Buddy, that's nice and all that you're trying to make on time deliveries...but not my problem. I highly doubt someone told you to deliver your crap to a law firm. So, thanks but no thanks. What is with people today?

Valentine's Day Mix

2011-02-14T12:06:00.002-07:00

Happy Valentine's Day! Personally, I enjoy this holiday even though I haven't been in much of a crafty, decorating mood lately. I don't care if it's one big commercialized, greeting card gimmick. The world can be a crappy place, and if one day reminds people only temporarily to love those around them, then I say it's a good thing.

My lovah and I are having a low-key day. We're going to lunch or maybe an early dinner (depending on when I can escape from work), frosting sugar cookies to take to neighbors, and watching a movie (of my choosing, naturally).

We agreed to go low-key on gifts too. Of course, he went right ahead and ignored our agreement. But I just got him a few small things--a T-shirt, some candy (dark chocolate Ghirardelli squares), and a fun mix to play when we're frosting cookies tonight:

1. Rhythm of Love~Plain White T’s

2. This Will Be (an Everlasting Love)~Natalie Cole

3. Vegetable Car~Joshua Radin

4. All You Need is Love~The Beatles

5. Not Like the Movies~Katy Perry

6. The Way You Make Me Feel~Michael Jackson

7. Umbrella~Marié Digby

8. Sweet Disposition~Temper Trap

9. Dog Days Are Over~Florence + The Machine

10. Obsessed with You~The Orion Experience

11. To Make You Feel My Love~Adele

All of these songs have either special meaning to us (like the Adele one, which is a cover of the song to which we had our first dance at our wedding) or are inside jokes (like the Orion Experience one). Isn't it fun to remember your relationship through music?

Oh, and one last thing our V-Day won't include? Lacy, complicated lingerie. TMI? Maybe. But in the interest of honesty, I'm not a big fan, and it suits my lovah just fine (too much pressure, maybe?). I find it all a bit creepy, and I have a whole drawer full of stuff from my honeymoon that has pretty much sat there since unpacking it nearly 7 years ago. So that's why I literally laughed out loud when I read this article which discusses, among other things, the uncomfortable knowledge that many (if not most) people you see today are secretly wearing sexy undies. Funny.

Project Spring Fling/Home Improvement Update

2011-02-01T12:54:00.006-07:00

It's freezing today, but I remain undeterred in my anticipation of Spring. Our house is still all torn up due to eleventy billion home improvement project I have running simultaneously (ADD much?). On one hand, living in a mess means I feel like I'm always on the verge of freaking out. On the other hand, maybe it's better to make one really huge mess and clean it all up just once, rather than make several small messes and clean everything up repeatedly. Our project list started out as finishing the new paint in the kitchen and covering navy blue paint in one of the guest rooms with something lighter and brighter. Simple. Easy. One weekend, tops.

Unfortunately, it has morphed into this:
Paint guest room (including ceilings, fixing holes, trim, doors)
Paint office (including ceilings, fixing holes, trim, doors)
Paint hallway (including ceilings, fixing holes, trim, doors)
Paint kitchen
Fix kitchen drawer
Run a water line to the fridge
Pull up all carpet and clean underneath it
Paint bedroom
Paint master bathroom
Refinish guest room furniture
Repaint front door frame
Repaint and caulk guest bathroom
Maybe paint family room?
New carpet?
Finish basement (ok, more of a long term project)

I think I'm insane. We've been doing this for 3 weeks, and I already know I'm being too picky with how everything looks--I want it to look perfect. We only have 1 1/2 rooms done.

Anyway, part of this giant project involved moving rooms and furniture around. Our master bedroom closet is kind of small (ok, maybe it would work for normal people, but I have a lot of shoes, bags, clothes, etc.). Fortunately, we have 2 guest rooms/offices with good-sized closets as well. Since my stuff was taking up 2/3 of our bedroom closet, I gave Brian the bigger guest room for his office (and therefore his additional closet). Since we've made that bigger guest room a bit more feminine, it's going to be my office/closet area. Can I just say, HALLELUJAH? That closet is HUGE!

So while I could fit all my crap with room to spare, I still want to adhere to my goal of purging unnecessary junk from my life. Lugging crap from room to room has taught me nothing if not the fact that we have too much stuff. Period. To that end, I felt inspired when I read about Spring Fling 2011. The idea is to fling (at least) 100 items from your home by the first day of Spring (March 20). We're lucky that our city sponsors a clean-up program every Fall and Spring. All you have to do is put your junk out on the curb, and they haul it away. Easy peasy. So between the DI and city clean-up, this won't even be hard. By the look of things, I'll be flinging many more than 100 items. Since there was no point in putting unwanted items in a brand new (to me) closet, we already have a wicked DI bag going, and took a few loads directly to the garbage (some ties and shoes of Brian's were too awful even for the DI--early 90's mission ties. Eww.)

I should've taken before and after pictures, if only for my own benefit. No chance of that now, since everything's a disaster. But I at least wanted to write it down here, since I read on Miranda's blog (check it out--it's awesome) that "in order to really accomplish our goals they need not only to be specific, measurable, attainable, realistic, and timed, but also they need to be written down." Amen.

Bugged

2011-01-28T01:00:00.000-07:00

It's late. Probably too late to be writing what will end up an emotionally charged rant, but so be it. I feel like I have so many thoughts and opinions and questions swimming in my head about what I call the gay marriage debacle. Far too much to write here, not only because I'm sure it would offend some people (which I do not necessarily find the sole deterrent--this is my space, after all), but also because it is far too heavy and long. I'm not embarrassed by my thoughts, nor am I afraid to share them. If you really want to know, ask me.

Anyway, not the point. I guess I should know better than to read the Deseret News for anything other than restaurant reviews and human interest stories. But today there was an article with the title "Defining Marriage", and before I could stop myself, I clicked on it. Bad idea.

Basically the author quotes extensively from the work of a Princeton professor of jurisprudence, who thinks that in order to determine whether equality requires a redefinition of marriage, we need to know what the existing definition of marriage is. Ok, not too bad. But I think marriage means different things to different people. I think, at least to some extent, marriage is and encompasses what you make it...which brings me to my problem. The professor offers his definition, which I find in one sense overbroad and in other far, far, far, far, far too restrictive. Here it is:

"Marriage is a comprehensive, multi-level union of a man and woman who, pledging fidelity, exclusivity and permanence form a commitment to join together not merely at the emotional level, but at the bodily, emotional, rational, volitional and spiritual levels of being in a union that is … fulfilled by having and rearing children together..."

Oh, I see. So unless and until my husband and I have and rear children, our marriage is unfulfilled and therefore lesser--perhaps not a real marriage at all? Awesome. And what about someone who gets divorced? Was their marriage less real because it was not permanent, or was the pledging of permanence (despite going back on the pledge) the important part? Yeah, I'm bugged.

He goes on to say that marriage's intrinsic value is to unite in procreative actions. I just find this so ridiculously narrow. So if you use birth control, your marriage isn't real? If you're infertile? If you simply choose to remain childless? Ugh.

I do not need another way or reason to struggle with the challenges I've been given. And I guess if that professor's definition of marriage is how marriage is or should be defined, I will happily live in sin the rest of my (childless) life.

Holiday Confessions and New Year's Resolutions

2011-01-10T21:21:00.007-07:00

Do you ever ready blogs where the author sugar-coats everything, and every post is dedicated to detailing every perfect detail of his/her perfect life? Well, my life's not like that, and neither is my blog. So, in an effort to be a little more real, here are my holiday confessions:

1. I hate Christmas. I know, I know. Put away your torches and pitchforks. Of course I don't hate the whole celebrating Christ's birth thing. But the commercialized, oversaturated, gift-finding, million trips to the grocery store, stressing about what to give to whom and do I have enough things for everyone, getting tons of food made more numerous parties, and worst of all the forced socialization and merriment? Not a fan. Let's face it--Christmas is for little kids. When you're an adult, it's just a ton of work. I usually get sick every year, and this was no exception. Right when all the craziness died down and I could finally rest, I got a massive head cold/sinus infection. Anyway, Christmas for me just feels like a ton of stress and work, and the real meaning of it gets lost in all the crap and obligation. It's just not my favorite holiday.

2. I don't like decorating for holidays anymore. I haven't put up a single seasonal decoration in at least 2 years other than wreaths on my front door. As a newlywed, it was fun and novel to have my own house to decorate. But now I've realized I was the only one who cared, which meant I was the one doing all the decorating (and the cleaning up post-holiday). However, I don't see this as a bad thing. I call it "simplifying".

3. I don't like holiday food. Surprise, surprise, I know. I'm picky. But I just don't like turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, etc. Call me Chandler Bing.

4. I have never seen most holiday cartoons like Charlie Brown, Rudolph, Frosty, etc.

5. I didn't listen to any Christmas music this year. I have tons of it on my phone, but I never bothered to listen. Oh well.

6. I barely stayed awake long enough to get a new year's kiss at midnight. I think I'm getting old.

Phew, that feels so good to unload that. If you're like me, then you also find it hard to resist the temptation to smile and act like everything is perfect and magical and ideal. It's just not, so hopefully my honesty is refreshing.

With that in mind, even though I've never been a big resolution-maker (resolutionist? resolutioner?), I do like the idea of trying to resuscitate hope, setting goals, and making commitments. Here are some things I hope to do this year:

1. We have already started on this, but I'm focusing on making smarter choices about what I eat. I've been trying to cook more, remembering to eat breakfast, packing a lunch, and making the most of what I buy at the store (including eating leftovers, my nemesis). I've also been trying to buy the most responsible, ethical, and healthy food items I can, such as limiting our meat and dairy products, and buying cage-free/organic/grass fed, etc. when possible and as long as our budget permits. I have definitely noticed a difference in both our bank account and the way I feel. I have always liked to cook and bake, but it's a lot of work to do on your own (especially when your spouse would rather just go out). Having Brian's help and commitment has really helped.

2. For my birthday last fall I got a road bike. Even though the weather was only good for a few weeks, I really loved biking with Brian because it was spending one-on-one time together, appreciating the outdoors, and exercising all at the same time. Instead of setting a specific weight loss goal like everyone does, I want to really get the most use out of my bike as possible. I want to feel healthy, fit, and strong. I also want to enter a race of some sort--either a bike race in the fall or a beginner triathlon. I think I can do the biking, and swimming has never been a problem for me, but the running. Oh, the running. I have always, always despised it. But I found a triathlon that only requires a 1.5 mile run. I should be able to handle that. I think. I hope.

3. Figure out our employment/insurance situation. This is kind of private, and almost entirely out of my control, but oh how I would like to make some progress here.

4. Either eliminate or substantially reduce debt (I'm looking at you, blasted student loans!) so that our only debt is our house. Fortunately we're on track for this goal as long as our current income holds steady.

5. I would love to move as I'm sick of our home and I don't love our neighborhood. However, I am also paranoid about increasing our debt obligations (see #3 and #4). To that end, I've decided to improve what we've already got. Starting last weekend, we spent a bit of money on paint to update our guest room, finish our kitchen, and paint our office, our master bath, and our kitchen. Our kitchen is half done, and so is one of the guest rooms (which was a huge change from navy walls to creamy taupe). I also want to try my hand at some furniture refinishing. Oh, and I would love to be able to finish our basement and get new carpet throughout the house. Those kind of depend on our employment situation, so we'll see.

6. Purge unnecessary crap. As we emptied our guest room and office, I was amazed by how much stuff we have, and most of it is entirely superfluous. We have far too much for the size of our home, and it's weighing me down. I want 2011 to be a year of simplifying, down-sizing, and paring down. Mostly, I want to really refine what's in our home. As a newlywed, I wasn't really sure of my style both in home decor and in clothing. Seven years have given me a lot of opportunities for growth, and I feel like I have a much better idea of who I am and what I like. I want my closet and entire home to better reflect that.

7. Really celebrate our anniversary. Because our anniversary falls in the middle of busy summer, I don't feel like we've ever really celebrated the way I'd like. Maybe it will be lucky #7 this year.

8. Go somewhere--even just a quick trip--just the two of us.

9. If job and money permit, get a new passport and use it. I haven't been out of the country since our honeymoon, and my passport is still in my maiden name. I'd like to fix that.

10. Obviously I'd love to start our family this year. However, I have to accept the fact that I am in control of exactly nothing as far as this is concerned. I have spent so much time being frustrated, sad, jealous, depressed, enraged, crushed, alternately hopeful and hopeless, etc. about this, and 2010 was no different. I spent the year carefully tracking and calculating and planning each and every day of every cycle, believing that a miracle could and would happen for us, and nada. I know I'm healthy and things on my end are functioning like clockwork. But there's nothing more I can do personally, and believe me, I have thought of/tried about everything. I am no longer hopeful, and I no longer have faith that a miracle is right around the corner. Instead of finding this depressing, I am choosing to stop letting it control my every thought. Because sometimes miracles don't happen, even for good people doing the right things. So I'd like to be happy with the family I do have, and instead of living in a state of limbo, I'd like to start making new plans for my life, and find ways to be happy and fulfilled with nothing more than I have now. I know this won't be as easy as flipping a switch, but for now I'm just feeling done with pouring my heart and soul into a futile pursuit. It's like an abusive relationship I keeping coming back to after swearing I won't, believing I won't get hurt again and letting myself feel like an unworthy failure 99% of the time. Wasn't it Einstein who said the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results? Well I'd like to stop doing the same thing.

What are your goals?

All Better

2010-12-14T11:37:00.001-07:00

I had a bit of a weird/scary experience over the weekend. I went to login to my blog on Saturday, and was told there was suspicious activity on my google account (probably hacked), and that my blog was unable to be found. Luckily I'm married to a computer geek, and all is now well. But I've learned my lesson--periodically change passwords and backup, backup, backup!

Hallelujah Chorus

2010-12-10T11:25:00.001-07:00

I haven't been feeling very Christmas-y lately. I haven't put up a single decoration, organized my iTunes Christmas playlist, or done one traditional Christmas activity like going to Temple Square or the Nutcracker. I've just been feeling very blah about the whole season. It seems like a lot of work to do everything with no real return.

However, music is something I can't really escape. I was asked to accompany a musical number at our RS Christmas party last Tuesday, I have another one on Saturday, and I will probably play in church at some point this month. I love performing and listening to music, even when I'm in a bad mood. Maybe it's therapeutic? Anyway, one of my favorite Christmas pieces is the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel's Messiah. As a little kid I began learning it for my violin group's Christmas performances, and I gradually learned the details of what made the piece so special. The first time Handel's Messiah was performed, King George II of England attended. When the first few notes of the Hallelujah Chorus began, King George II rose to his feet. Because of royal custom, the entire audience was compelled to stand as well. Although no one is exactly sure why the king stood, popular explanations include that he was so moved by the music and Handel's work that he stood in awe and respect, or that because royal custom required standing in the presence of royalty, and even the King of England was subject to Jesus Christ, aka the King of Kings as the text states, so King George II stood to acknowledge this.

Now I cannot hear this piece without being moved and usually teary. It is a beautiful tribute to the reason we celebrate Christmas, and I love it. To that end, have you ever heard of flash mobs? I think they are both hilarious and amazingly talented--so much so that one was even featured on Modern Family. Well, they have now taken on the Hallelujah Chorus:

Elizabeth Edwards

2010-12-08T11:54:00.001-07:00

I was so sad to hear of Elizabeth Edwards' passing. She was someone I truly admired. Even when the most private, embarrassing details of her marriage and life became public, and her husband was exposed as the cad he was, she took the highest road possible. She just exuded grace, intelligence, and class. Did you know she was an attorney, and she and her husband both admit she was the better, smarter one? Did you know she had large gaps between her children because she wasn't always able to expand her family when she wanted? Did you know she gave up a successful career to nurture her family and support her husband (despite knowing she was smarter and better qualified, and while he was off gallivanting with some tart)?

Here are just a few bits and pieces of what made her so inspirational and exemplary to me:

"I have been sustained throughout my life by three saving graces — my family, my friends, and a faith in the power of resilience and hope.”

"I do not know what the most important lesson is that I will ever teach my children…I do know that when they are older and telling their own children about their grandmother, they will be able to say that she stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way—and it surely has not—she adjusted her sails."

Elizabeth Edwards
1949-2010

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T12:18:00.000-06:00

Love,

The McCormacks

Lazy Girl's Updates

2010-10-12T11:47:00.001-06:00

I've been so behind on keeping this blog updated--not like anyone cares, but I like to keep it organized for myself. Instead of going to all the work adding pictures and creating individual posts would require, for now I'm just making a list:

--In June we went to Hawaii with friends. I had never been before, and it was incredible (other than the flights--you're on my list, U.S. Airways). We spent most of our time on Maui, in a perfectly situated condo--close to Lahaina and a farmer's market, with its own pool and private beach. Since no one else was scuba certified, we only brought our snorkeling gear. I kind of wished we'd done a dive, but the snorkeling was incredible. I also think spending money on an expedition was kind of waste, though the water off Molokini was beautiful. But we saw the same stuff--and more turtles--just by finding our own spots or snorkeling off the beach right in front of our condo. We also ate like pigs--the best pineapple (obviously), mahi mahi, and fish tacos I've ever had! The way our flights worked out gave us a day on Oahu to be tourists. Pearl Harbor was moving (for the most part, unless you're OCD/ADD like me and have a hard time with construction noises and loud fellow tourists I had to restrain myself from shhhh-ing during the video), Brian was excited to see the North Shore, and the drive to Laie and the temple was so pretty.

--In July we celebrated our sixth anniversary, and went on our annual Rawlings family trip to the Tetons. As usual, it was pretty and so much fun to just unplug and spend time with family. We stayed up way too late every night playing dominoes and Rook, and eating way too much guacamole.

--In August we worked and then worked some more.

--In September we went to Jackson again for the Lotoja bike race. Autumn makes a pretty area even prettier, and it was definitely inspiring and motivating to be there at the finish line after such a long race. After the bike race, it was fruit preserving season. There are so many comforting memories and feelings I associate with September, family, and bottling peaches and pears, and I thoroughly enjoyed spending hours talking, teasing, and laughing with my mom, aunt, sister, and cousin. I also felt a bit like Suzy Homemaker and a pioneer, which let's face it, doesn't happen often. Maybe if I didn't have a job things would be different?

On a sad note, Brian's grandmother passed away. She had been suffering for quite some time, and although it's been hard on his family, her funeral was a wonderful testament to the kind of mother, grandmother, friend and neighbor Sally was.

I also had my birthday at the end of the month. It's kind of sad when the good milestone birthdays are behind you, and only the scary ones are ahead of you, you know? It's unsettling to be on the downhill slide to 30, but that's another post for another day, hmm? Nevertheless, family and friends treated me wonderfully, with the highlight being a new road bike so Brian and I can ride and train together. I was a little sketchy on the road at first--after all, the last time I was on a two-wheeled vehicle didn't end so well for me (and the scooter and the Cozumel road). But there really is something to that whole "it's just like riding a bike" thing. My (albeit limited) bike-riding abilities returned, and I'm excited to build up my strength, speed, and endurance for a race or triathlon some time next year. But for now I'm perfectly content to spend a Saturday on the Legacy trail just riding around with Brian.

--Here we are in October, already running mad dash of birthdays in my family. We celebrate four birthdays in six weeks, and if I wasn't already feeling older by my own birthday, watching my younger siblings grow up definitely reminds me how long it's been since I was in the high school/teenager/living at home/living with friends/single/early 20's/newlywed stages. We're headed to the Tour de St. George bike race this month, and maybe some time before the 31st I'll put up some fall/Halloween decorations. Or not.

Happy Birthday, Lola!

2010-07-29T12:50:00.096-06:00

Lola and Bella are just one week apart, so today we celebrated Lola's second birthday. We always say that Bella is our full-figured sweetheart, and Lola is our petite, sassy princess. She has so much personality packed into her tiny little body! She is also a bit prissy, and almost cat-like in her reflexes. She loves to perch and sprawl out in the weirdest of places (like across your neck in the middle of the night), and jumps like a circus dog.

She loves human food, rawhide bones, and dog treats that she bats and flicks around with her paws like a juggler. She is stubborn and reluctantly obedient, just like her parents. While she doesn't love baths, she does love anything warm and has figured out that reclining in steaming bath water isn't too bad. She adores sunbathing on our stairs, and curling up on heating pads or fleecy blankets.

For the most part, she isn't too interested in toys (unless Bella is playing with one, in which case a game of chase or tug-of-war ensues, just like a typical little sister), but has what we call a make-out toy that she licks, kisses, and sucks on to our disgust. She has a hilarious (to us) fear of anything loud, and the vacuum is her typical nemesis. She shrieks at it and refuses to come near any room containing it until we put it away in its closet. She loves to snuggle on our laps or under covers, to the point where she will disappear in the middle of the day to hop on a bed and burrow in the blankets.

In this picture, she wanted so badly to be cuddle up under something that she nestled underneath my tiny travel pillow! While I am Bella's favorite, Lola's favorite is Brian. When we first brought them home, Lola didn't want anything to do with him. But now she will not relax until he's home, and always chooses him over everyone else.

However, Lola has also taken a special liking to my dad and brothers--maybe it's a guy thing? My dad (pictured above) has been pretty much anti-pet his whole life, but Lola has him wrapped around her little paw! I have it on good authority that he let her sleep in bed with him when my parents were puppy-sitting for us in June.

Like Bella, she contracted Salmonella poisoning a few weeks ago. Having watched Bella suffer a few days earlier, we caught it early and got her the medicine she needed to heal before she got too dehydrated. But it definitely scared me to see such a tiny dog retching helplessly, and I was so glad to see her energy and quirky personality return. We just love our sassy little Loli-worm (Richard Scarry, anyone?)! She is the perfect, priceless complement to our family.

Happy Birthday, Bella!

2010-07-22T16:48:00.011-06:00

Apologies in advance for the shoddy iPhone photography--we do have a nice camera, but it's big and bulky and I'm lazy.

Today is Bella's second birthday. Oh how we love our sweet Bells. Bella truly is the sweetest, friendliest dog on earth. We just adore her and all of her quirks. She loves sticks, rawhide bones, stuffed animal toys (including tearing and shredding the stuffing all over the floor), balls, and rocks. She loves to sniff and explore outside. She loves playing in the snow and splashing in the bathtub, and is so polite when receiving treats or table food (I know, I know, she's spoiled). She is so unique and unlike any other dog I've ever seen. No one believes she's a Chihuahua, since she looks and acts more like a chocolate Lab puppy. We call her our little chunky monkey, because she tips the scales at a healthy sixteen pounds and is more than twice Lola's size. But since she's already full grown, I guess she's really just our Chi-Lab perma-puppy!

She loves to give kisses, snuggle us, and curl up on the covers next to Lola. She is very obedient, except the occasional mornings when she pretends she can't hear us telling her to stop exploring and come inside.

She gets so excited to see us or my family that her tail wags out of control and makes her walk crooked. It has been so fun to see how much our families adore her, and she recognizes her favorites. She loves to give kisses and sprawl out on pillows while someone scratches her belly.

However, is it horrible of me to admit that I know she loves me the most? If I'm around, she will happily let others hold her and pet her, but when it comes down to it, she wants me. If we watch a movie, she wants to be on my lap. When we sleep, she wants to be touching me. When she's scared or nervous, she only wants me to hold her, and will wiggle and squirm away from anyone else. I love it!

Our most favorite quirk is her talent for howling like a wolf. It's not a bark, but a full on howl. It is hilarious and so cute--luckily we've trained her to do it on command for her adoring audiences.

When we went to Jackson in July, our puppies had to be kenneled with our vet. Even though I pack them bags (like a good little OCD mama), which include their own food, treats, and toys, somehow Bella got into some of the vet's food that happened to be on the Salmonella recall list. She got horribly sick, and I felt utterly helpless as I tried to take care of her to no avail. She needed an overnight stay at a 24 hour pet emergency room for testing, antibiotics, and IV fluids (hence the bandaid picture of her on Uncle PK's lap), and I was an absolute wreck. I cried right at the ER, and sobbed to the point of hysterics the rest of the night. I know Brian was upset too, but I'm pretty sure he thought his normally stoic wife had finally cracked! Since Lola and Bella have never been apart, it was heartbreaking to watch Lola whine at the top of the stairs after searching frantically for her sister. She couldn't figure out where Bella was and why she wasn't going to bed with us that night. The thought of losing my sweet girl was definitely more than I could take. I distinctly remember my (somewhat disrespectful) prayer that night being somewhere along the lines of "I've been dealt a lot of crap lately, so you CANNOT take her from me, okay?" I'm sure God doesn't really appreciate dictation, but fortunately we were blessed with her safe return the next night.

We are so lucky to have Bella in our home, with her sweet disposition and playful personality. I never really considered myself much of a dog person until marrying Brian and living with our dog Buddy. When he died, I was sure I didn't ever want a dog again--I couldn't face loving something or someone that much and losing him/her. I'm so glad Brian knew better and gave me Bella and Lola for my birthday almost two years ago. They have been the best, brightest, most joyful parts of our lives over the past little while. They just radiate unconditional love. We simply adore them, and look forward to many, many (and I do mean many--okay, God?) more birthdays to come.

Six Years

2010-07-17T13:22:00.027-06:00

Six years ago I was a silly, giddy, excited 20-year-old about to marry my sweetheart. Although I'm no longer 20 or giddy (or silly, I hope), I am still very much in love with this man. It's weird to look back through all our photos and think how young we both looked. Am I getting that old? Let's hope not.

Since our anniversary is in the middle of the summer, it always seems like we have one vacation or another planned right around the actual day. So we never do anything too fancy to celebrate, but with trips to California, Hawaii, and Jackson Hole (twice) this summer, I can't complain. We are spending the weekend with Brian's family in a cabin in Heber. Not the most romantic, of course, but it is so fun to spend a few days playing with our nieces and nephews at the lake, and to spend our nights playing cards and eating way too much junk. Maybe next year we'll have one of our own to whom we can introduce these traditions (and no, that is not an announcement). Love you, Bri!

Dichotomy

2010-07-13T17:30:00.003-06:00

Have you seen this article? It ran today in the local paper. It interested me because it deals with both estate planning issues (my career field) and assisted reproductive technology (my lot in life). It's about a woman whose husband died of cancer. Before the husband began treatment that would render him sterile, he had his sperm frozen so that after he was in remission he could attempt to have biological children with his wife. Unfortunately, the husband passed away before the couple could begin their family.

A few years after her husband passed away, the woman decided to conceive the child she and her husband had always wanted. Through the miracle of assisted reproduction, she was able to use the frozen sperm willed to her by her late husband and had a baby. She then tried to get Social Security death benefits for her son, as a surviving child of her late husband, which totaled about $530 or so a month. She has said that she is totally dependent on the $530 to support herself and the child. She has been fighting with the government ever since, and now the Utah Supreme Court is determining whether the man ever intended to father and support this child, and whether under current laws and policies the child is an heir of his biological father.

My first reaction to this article was to fiercely defend ART (assisted reproduction). After all, I might never have a family without it. In my opinion, our laws lag far behind even outdated technology. I hate how any case even tangentially related to ART brings out the trolls who decry "doctors playing God", hand out annoying platitudes like "if God wanted you to conceive, you would 'naturally'", and denigrate those "selfish" people who want to buy their own test tube/designer babies when they really should just adopt because it's so cheap, easy, and fast. Speaking as someone who has had far too much literal and figurative prodding in, around, and concerning her uterus, what goes on with someone's private and/or reproductive parts is their business. Period.

On the other hand, experiencing infertility has made me a passionate advocate of patient, informed, well- thought-out parenthood. Although I sympathize with this woman and her struggle to support herself and her child alone, and I fully support her choice to become a single mother, I don't necessarily think it's the job of taxpayers to support her choice(s) financially. This pregnancy was not a surprise. On the contrary, it required planning, coordination, and as someone who has done fertility procedures, quite a bit of money just for the procedure. I don't think it's a good idea to purposely have children when you know you don't have a way to support them. I know I've written about this before, so to recap, I think having children is wonderful. The world needs bright, loving, well-loved, responsible, well-cared-for children. But I think it's irresponsible to conceive with abandon, hoping a way to support them will just fall into your lap. And what are the odds, if you don't have a way to support your children, that your children will nevertheless be bright, loving, well-loved, responsible, and well-cared-for (yes, I know that makes no grammatical sense)? In this case, the woman knew she would be a single mother, and would therefore be solely responsible for the physical and emotional needs of the child she wanted to conceive. I don't doubt that she and her husband intended to have kids. I'm sure that her husband wanted her to have the option of doing what she did, so he willed her his frozen sperm in the event of his death. But he had no idea if he would ever posthumously father a child--the procedure(s) could have failed, or she could have opted to never use the frozen sperm. And, bottom line, if your only means of support is a controversial $530 from the government, I'm guessing parenthood (let alone single parenthood by choice) wasn't such a wise decision.

Above all, I think it will be interesting to see what the Utah Supreme Court does with this. Utah is notoriously family friendly, but its laws tend to lag behind other states when it comes to reproductive technology. Utah is also notoriously conservative, which usually means anti-government handouts. However, most conservatives here are also Mormons with big families, and don't seem to have a problem with taking a government handout as long as the handout allows a woman to stay at home with lots of kids.

I can't make up my mind about this, hence the post title. What do you think?

When Saw We Thee A Stranger: Arizona SB 1070

2010-06-03T13:39:00.005-06:00

***DISCLAIMER: This is long and you might disagree with me. That's ok.
But if reading an opinion that does not comport with yours upsets you, feel free to skip this.***

This has been bothering me for some time now. I think there are a lot of opinions out there on the subject; this is simply mine. I think illegal immigration is a real problem. Ideally, the United States should be able to care for its own citizens and offer aid to other countries such as Mexico such that there wouldn't be such a desperate desire to come to America. Ideally, other countries wouldn't be riddled with drug trafficking, murders, and poverty. Ideally, legal immigration would be easier to achieve. Ideally, a corrupt few wouldn't control access to means of legal immigration. The current situation and current laws are clearly ineffective. But this new law Arizona has passed? It flies in the face of everything I believe and everything I've learned about constitutional and criminal law. Our system does need to change, but this radical, racist bill is not the way to do it.

I just finished reading the entire text of SB 1070. There has been a significant amount of misinformation and misleading reports out there about it. Here is what I learned:

1. Whereas in the past immigration issues were handled by a special immigration court, this bill makes illegal immigration a criminal matter handled by criminal court. So essentially anyone suspected of immigrating illegally would be forced to defend himself/herself in criminal court, facing criminal penalties in addition to deportation.

2. Contrary to popular belief, law enforcement officers DO NOT need to observe, say, a traffic or other similar offense/infraction in order to inquire about someone's immigration status. It's quite the opposite, really. In fact, the law requires law enforcement officers to "when practicable, detain people they reasonably suspect are in the country without authorization and to verify their status with federal officials, unless doing so would hinder an investigation or emergency medical treatment." What are police going to observe that leads to this reasonable suspicion? My guess would be the color of the suspect's skin and the language that suspect speaks. What are the odds police are going to "reasonably suspect" a white person is illegal? Slim to none. So what is this? Legalized racial profiling, and I find it deplorable.

3. The law makes it a criminal offense to not have one's legal immigration paperwork on one's person at all times. So even someone in the U.S. legally and lawfully could still be charged with a crime if he or she does not carry that proof at all times. Some have compared this to being asked to show identification such as a driver's license when making a purchase or driving a car. The difference? You don't have to make a purchase. If you don't have your ID, you can walk away. You don't have to drive a car. When's the last time someone was imprisoned for simply walking around without a driver's license? And, again, what are the odds a police officer will approach a group of white people for no other reason than to examine immigration paperwork? So, again, is this not just another way to single out non-white people without probable cause?

4. The law provides a cause of action for individuals wishing to sue the federal government for not doing enough to uphold and enforce immigration laws. Great, because the legal system is already so uncrowded and runs so smoothly as it is. Let's introduce an entirely new group of frivolous lawsuits to clog the system.

5. I heard a great deal of talk about how the illegals are all criminals that Mexico doesn't want anyway. I don't know that knowledge can possibly be ascertained; however, I find it reasonable to deport citizens of other countries who have committed a serious crime in the U.S. However, the bill does not contain a definition of a crime resulting in deportation. There's a big difference between murder and speeding, isn't there? Yet they are both technically crimes.

6. As for employers who employ undocumented workers, I agree that this a bad process all around. However, the penalties are much more lenient for the employers who, in my opinion, are knowingly exploiting desperate immigrants. Shouldn't these employers bear the brunt of the punishment? They're the ones breaking the law for profit--not to feed hungry children or escape poverty--but to line their pockets.

7. The law makes it a crime to transport illegal aliens, but get this, there is no knowledge requirement. Even if I have no idea the person I'm helping out is an illegal alien, I'm still in trouble. So if I give someone a ride home without first demanding to see his/her immigration papers, I myself could find myself in criminal court. Love your neighbors, eh?

Essentially, this bill muddies the waters between immigration and criminal law, attempting to convert immigration issues into crimes when it just doesn't work. The bill purports to protect the "civil rights of all persons". Hmm, I guess that excludes anyone who isn't a U.S. citizen? The basis for the beginning of a criminal investigation is probable cause. There has to have been a specific crime committed, and a likelihood that a particular suspect has committed that specific crime. If I were a police officer, I could not simply begin pulling over cars driven by middle-aged white men because, statistically speaking, somewhere, somehow, sometime a white middle-aged man probably murdered someone. There's just far too much speculation in there, and it provides far too much room for my personal bias. Likewise, it's not enough to just suspect that illegal immigration is happening somewhere at sometime in Arizona, and that somewhere a Hispanic person out there immigrated illegally. Those types of suspicions should not make it acceptable for me to detain any brown-skinned person I choose for no other reason than his/her skin is brown and he/she speaks Spanish.

What it comes down to, for me, is that I am a Christian, and specifically a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This bill is not compatible with my beliefs. I believe in loving my neighbors. I believe in clothing and feeding the needy. I believe in providing shelter and comfort to those in need. At one time wasn't anyone who arrived in America, except Native Americans, an immigrant? Weren't most of our ancestors at one time seeking refuge, safety, protection, and a life better than what was available in their countries of origin?

I have heard many fellow members of my faith preach about following the law of the land to justify their support of this bill. Hmm, at one time it was legal under Missouri law to kill a Mormon. At one time, the law of the land in the South included racist Jim Crow laws. At one time, the law of the land made the practice of Mormonism illegal, but that didn't deter thousands from practicing their faith. In Deuteronomy God commanded the Israelites to love the stranger as they had once been strangers wandering in Egypt. In Matthew Christ taught, "I was a stranger and ye took me in . . . inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." In Alma, the Anti-Nephi-Lehites were commanded of the Lord to cross boundaries, enjoy the resources of their former enemies, and receive protection from them.

I'm lucky to be a white American. No one has ever asked me if I'm here legally. No one has ever made a racist joke at my expense. No one has ever referred to me with a racial epithet. No one has ever rolled their eyes at me as I struggled with a language that was not my native language or demanded that I speak better. No one has ever relied on me to leave my home and cross a border, at great personal risk and financial expense, all in hopes of working myself to the bone to provide a better life and a better education for my children. I have been given, through luck or divine providence, much. And so I too must give. And this new law disgusts me.

Tidbits

2010-06-02T15:07:00.001-06:00

I have so many things on my mind and so much going on that my blog has been a bit neglected, to say the least. Rather than come up with proper journal-type posts for everything, I've devolved to bullet points:

--On May 4 I had the unique pleasure of experiencing kidney stones. I wanted to die. I spent a total of 7 hours in the ER. Maybe one or two of those hours was/were spent getting actual medical treatment. The rest were spent in agony, waiting.

--I enjoyed a brief respite from said agony when a middle aged man across the hall from me started shrieking "Ow! Owee! Ouchie!" repeatedly for a good 20 minutes. When nurses came to tend to him, he yelled at them, "I have kidney stones! My testicle hurts!" As much as I wanted to die, I still found myself able to roll with laughter. I laughed even harder when I overheard his doctor telling him the testicle-offending kidney stone was 2 mm. Mine was 4.5. Wimp.

--On May 11 I saw a statement for this ER trip. It was $7,200, or essentially $1,000 for every hour I was there (and I thought lawyers charged too much). Our deductible is $10,000. Health care in the U.S. sure is awesome as it is, isn't it? More on this later, but here's a teaser: after telling two different doctors and nurses that I was in no way, shape, or form pregnant (I have slightly OCD spreadsheets of my cycles for the past year, so believe me, I was 100% sure), the ER lab still ran a pregnancy test (shockingly negative). That test alone cost $80. Fabulous.

--Since the end of April Brian and I have been on what has turned out to be the diet from hell. It's not so bad now, but the first week or so I was ready to eat my own arm. Hawaii better be worth it.

--On May 25 I saw an updated statement that cut down our bill to $4,400. I'm viewing it as a jumping-off point at which to begin negotiations.

--We just got back from a quick trip to California for my little sister's college graduation. I can't believe how old we're all getting!

Project IF

2010-04-27T13:47:00.014-06:00

This week is National Infertility Awareness Week, and although I don't want my blog to become merely a collection of sad, angry rants, I would be truly remiss if I didn't mention it here. Mel (famous IF blogger) at Stirrup Queens and Resolve have teamed up for Project IF. The response has been amazing so far, and I wanted to contribute a small part. Asking yourself what if? is hard. I was brutally honest with myself and my biggest fears. My writing here is emotional and raw, but real. So here is my what if? list:

What if I never become a mother?
What if we try to adopt and get scammed?
What if we cannot agree on the next step?
What if we try IVF again and it fails miserably?
What if I never get pregnant?
What if I get pregnant, finally allow myself to celebrate, and then miscarry?
What if I never give birth?
What if I never breastfeed?
What if I never have the kind of mothering experiences I'd always assumed I'd have?
What if we decide to adopt, and I constantly have to field a stream of negative comments?
What if we adopt, and others treat our adopted child differently?
What if we adopt, but I still cannot get over my desire to bear a child?
What if our marriage becomes irreparably damaged because of infertility?
What if I become really depressed and don't see a way out?
What if I lose my faith and beliefs because of infertility?
What if, in twenty or thirty years, I look back on my life and am filled with regret?
What if I can never be truly happy for someone else's pregnancy again?
What if I had never had to deal with infertility at all?
What if Brian and I had married other people? Would we still be infertile?
What if having children really wouldn't be as amazing as I envision it?
What if having children doesn't make me any happier or more fulfilled than I already am?

When you struggle with infertility, you lose a lot of things. You lose your privacy in every way imaginable. You lose your confidence. You lose your dreams and visions of what you expected your life to be. Sometimes you lose your faith--in yourself, in your marriage, maybe even in God. You lose your ability to blindly, optimistically hope. You lose your ability to blissfully assume everything will just work out. You lose a lot of time and even more money. You lose your patience. You lose your composure. You lose your figure (or what was left of it--thanks, meds!). You lose your ability to just relax. You sometimes lose the ability to be compassionate to those who are struggling with something you'd kill to have. You lose the ability to gamely, placidly tolerate invasive questions, insensitive advice, and ignorant complaints. You lose the ability to be happy for people repeatedly blessed with something for which you ache. You doubt yourself. You doubt everything your body tells you. You doubt every decision you've ever made. You doubt your worthiness to be a mother. You doubt the strength and validity of your marriage. You doubt your spouse's love for you. You doubt God's love for you.

But infertility doesn't necessarily mean all you experience are losses. You gain friends and support you never knew or thought you'd have. You gain a different kind of faith and perhaps a different relationship with your God. You gain strength to conquer things you'd always feared, both big and small. You gain a different perspective on patience. You don't take anything for granted. You appreciate every small victory, every small sign of progress, and every small gift you're given.

The life of a childless couple isn't all thorns, and it certainly isn't all roses. But last night, as I lay cuddled up under my husband's arm, in a spot that seems just perfectly made for me, as our sweet little puppies nuzzled their heads on our chests, I asked myself the last questions: aren't I already happy? Wouldn't this, right here, be enough? Do I really need anything else?

Happy Earth Day!

2010-04-22T12:01:00.000-06:00

Since we already recycle and try to conserve water and electricity, I'm celebrating by cooking a meatless meal at home for dinner and hitting our local nursery to see what I can plant (and try not to kill, as unlike my mom I seem to be hopeless at gardening) in our yard. How are you celebrating?

The Girl Effect

2010-04-07T13:19:00.002-06:00

Take a few minutes and watch this short video:

For far too long, women and girls have been considered property. Inconsequential chattel. Did you know studies have shown that given the chance, a woman or girl will reinvest 90% of her income into her family, while a man will reinvest 30-40%? Did you know that an extra year of primary school raises a girl's lifetime wages by 10-20%? Did you know that secondary school raises a girl's lifetime wages by 15-25%? Did you know that for every development dollar spent, girls receive less than two cents? Did you know that research in developing countries has shown that children of educated women are healthier and more likely to be in school themselves? Did you know that in developing countries, research has shown than when a girl has 7 or more years of education, she marries 4 years later and has 2.2 fewer children? I'm all for marriage and children at the proper time, given the proper foundation and the opportunity to choose. But we all know that more often than not, girls are not given the choice to do anything else. That's why I fully support the girl effect, i.e. "the powerful social and economic changes brought about when girls have the opportunity to participate." I would add that not only is the freedom and opportunity to participate key, but also the freedom and opportunity to choose for themselves.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow...

2010-03-18T16:45:00.004-06:00

...or I made a somewhat impulsive decision to finally follow through on my stated intention to donate my hair. For some people, I get it--it's just hair. It's vain. It's silly. But for me, my hair was my security blanket. When I wasn't feeling confident about anything else, I felt good about my hair. It was long. It was (somewhat) pretty. I took care of it, and was rewarded for my efforts. It was healthy and shiny. One little girl in my ward told me I had Barbie hair (incidentally, not sure if I should take that as a compliment). It looked the same whether I lost or gained weight. It looked the same whether I was freshly tanned from a beach vacation or pale and sickly in the dead of winter (for the most part, anyway). It looked the same whether I took the time to put together a cute outfit, or couldn't bring myself to change out of my t-shirt and yoga pants.

Quite frankly, the past year or so has been a bit depressing at our house. It seems like we've worked and saved and done everything we thought we could or should in order to expand our family, only to meet with failure after failure. Even more frustrating, it seems the only things we have in shorter supply than successes are answers. Throughout all this, and I know this might seem a bit ridiculous, but I feel like I've been hiding behind my hair. So I just kept letting it grow, increasing my comforting security blanket. When anyone asked why I was letting it get so long, I'd say that eventually I planned to donate it to Locks of Love. It wasn't a bad goal, really, but I guess I just never really thought about what would happen once I reached that point.

Nothing big has changed in our lives, but yesterday I just decided I was done. My hair was longer than it had ever been--just about to my waist. It was getting stringy and easily tangled. The ends were getting damaged. It was getting to be unpleasant to care for it. Plus, in the back of my mind lately I've been hearing my mom's voice, reminding me that the best way to stop feeling sorry for yourself is to get off your lazy bum and do something for someone else.

When I went in yesterday, this is what it looked like (oh and please excuse all the iPhone photos):

From this picture, it's hard to see exactly how long it was. I was still debating whether I was really going to do it, and I had my cute cousin measure the ponytails so I could see how much I would be cutting. If I hadn't had my husband right there (see his hand on the left side?), I probably would've chickened out. But I proceeded to let Hab chop off one ponytail, then the other:

To get an idea of scale, this is what she cut off--about 10 inches:

And this is what I look like now:

Was it scary? YES! I haven't had hair this short since my sophomore year in college, or maybe even high school. I kind of freak out whenever I see a mirror, since I've become so accustomed to long hair. But I think it looks cute, and I feel good about the fact that a little girl with no hair now has a lot more out of which to have a wig made. Right now I might not, for whatever reason, be capable of growing a tiny baby. But I can grow some hair!

When all I can do is just laugh

2010-03-16T13:55:00.001-06:00

We just found out today that our lovely insurance, about which I've already complained on numerous occasions, is getting even worse. On April 1, our deductible will increase to $10,000. It's just baffling, really, why we have insurance at all. Remind me again why socialized medicine is "bad"?

Spelling and grammar really do matter

2010-03-10T15:31:00.000-07:00

I am by no means an English aficionada, even though it was my college major. I'm human. I make (plenty of) mistakes. But for heaven's sake, doesn't anyone else find it sad and embarrassing that in the United States we have to force our school-aged children to take courses in our own language because otherwise they probably would be illiterate? In Utah alone, high school students must take and pass the UBSCT in order to receive a regular high school diploma. Students have several opportunities to retake the test if they fail. The test essentially requires students to exhibit an 8th grade level proficiency in reading, writing, and math. Parents of children who failed FREAKED OUT about how "unfair" this was. Um, seriously? Seriously?! Americans already lag behind other developed nations in education, and there are people who truly think that asking an 18-year-old high school senior to prove he/she has at least reached the level he/she should have 4 years earlier is unfair? Do people really think that performing at an 8th grade level prepares children for college, graduate school, and life beyond higher education?

So while I still make grammatical and the occasional spelling mistake, I generally try to ensure that the way I communicate is clear, literate, and grammatically correct. It's my native language, for crying out loud! So that's my rant of the day. But to anyone who thinks grammar is stupid, I respectfully disagree. To that end, I leave you the following case in point:

Addendum

2010-02-11T15:29:00.001-07:00

My last post unintentionally sparked a debate on the value of motherhood, and specifically stay-at-home mothers. I think staying at home is a wonderful choice. My mom stayed at home with us, and I'm convinced that in a lot of ways it helped me and my siblings get ahead academically, but also provided us with the nurture and care we needed to thrive socially and spiritually. Is staying at home the right choice for everyone? No, not necessarily. Some simply cannot afford it. Some, for whatever reason, feel it's best for the father to be the stay-at-home parent. Some feel that no parent staying at home is the correct choice. Overall, it's a very personal decision.

My point in even bringing the issue up had to do with health care. I think health care should be subsidized before and prioritized above other forms of assistance we already give to American citizens. Why? When you have a job and are doing the best you can, it's most likely that you can afford food and shelter. But medical care remains woefully overpriced and out of reach, even for people like me who've had a job since age 16 and have 2 college degrees. That's messed up! Because of this, I think universally accessible and affordable health care is more important than a lot of aid we already give people--such as food stamps or tax breaks to unemployed or underemployed families with a lot of kids. Why? Because if they so choose, most people can work. They might not want to do so. It might not be the ideal family choice. It might truly be better for their children if they are home. But they are physically and mentally capable of doing so if necessary. But the same isn't true for health insurance/care. Too many people are working as hard as they can, going way past what their ideal would be (maybe staying home with children), and are still not able to afford insurance. And that, in my opinion, is not ok and needs to change.

I don't know what the correct or best solution is. All I know for sure is that our current system is horrendous and embarrassing, and I'd be a fan of a new system that would offer choices, especially since under the current system I (like so many others) have none.

A few not-so-brief thoughts...

2010-02-10T15:27:00.003-07:00

...on health care reform. In the one year that Barack Obama has been our President, perhaps the single most divisive issue that has arisen has been health care reform. To be honest, nothing that has been drafted or suggested to date has been perfect (or anywhere close). But I've always firmly believed that it's a lot easier to get to a workable solution by at least getting a rough draft going and encouraging thoughtful, positive discussion rather than focusing on negativity and vowing to keep one's mind so closed as to not even consider any suggestion from anyone.

I find politics to be perhaps the most interesting, disgusting, frustrating, exciting areas of society. Maybe it's because, as a lawyer, I see the inextricable nexus between politics and the law. In one memorable first-year lecture, one of my professors left us with an impressive overview of how some of the most landmark social issues and rights were established/resolved through actions of attorneys.

I find health care's relationship to politics, and therefore the law, a veritable minefield. Other than the economy, gay marriage, and abortion, it's probably the issue on which I most frequently hear people express extreme opinions. If you've ever read my blog before, you don't need to listen to my whine again about how ridiculous my personal health care situation is. In a nutshell, my husband and I are healthy. We have no chronic health conditions. We don't take any prescription medications regularly. We earn normal incomes. Yet our health insurance, through my husband's employer (who pays an $800 monthly premium while we contribute another $150), has an $8,000 deductible, with no infertility coverage whatsoever. So, essentially, any medical care we require during the year is paid out of pocket (after all, how often are 2 healthy people going to exceed $8,000 in medical costs?). If we want to pursue any fertility treatments, those must also be paid out of pocket but are not credited against our deductible ($25,000 last year alone!). Our insurance is therefore useless other than for some unforeseen catastrophe.

You might wonder why we don't just find insurance elsewhere. Guess what? We've tried. During the course of fertility treatments in 2008, our doctor prescribed me Clomid. I didn't need it. I'm healthy, and as far as we know, my body functions exactly as it should. But he thought that it might increase our odds of success, so he prescribed me the lowest possible dose. I took it twice, for a total of 10 pills. Although the medication worked extremely well (perhaps too well), we weren't successful. So we opted to save our money for IVF, as our doctor thought it was the next logical step. When we decided to look at other insurance options, we filled out extensive questionnaires about any and all medications and surgeries we'd had in the past 10 years, which we did honestly. Imagine my surprise when every company offered to insure my husband, but refused to insure me on the grounds that I had taken Clomid the year before and was therefore too much of a risk. Um, what?

I remember during the one of the debates between John McCain and Barack Obama, Mr. McCain argued that a family earning $40,000 or $50,000 a year would have no need of health care assistance as they could easily find and afford health insurance on their own. Here in Utah, state senators have expressed similar thoughts. What a laugh! Let me tell you, my husband and I are by no means rich, but we earn more than that. And given our income, not only would the $950/month premium our current insurance requires (not to mention the astronomical deductible) be a huge burden to us if we had to pay all of it, but private insurance companies refuse to insure me! If my husband were unemployed, or employed elsewhere without benefits, we'd be totally screwed. So, from this perspective, we have everything to gain from some sort of government-subsidized health care. It certainly couldn't get any worse for us!

However, that doesn't necessarily mean I think the government should just give everyone carte-blanche to do whatever they want with Uncle Sam footing the bill. Like any state-funded social welfare, there is an inherent potential for abuse. I wish, as a society, we valued hard work and integrity more. I wish people would think more carefully about the consequences of their choices. For example, I think the decision to have children is critical to not only the health care debate, but to debates over taxes, education, and government spending on many other social programs. I wish we all agreed on how to responsibly educate our youth about reproductive and sexual choices. I wish everyone put careful thought into procreative decisions. In my opinion, one shouldn't be rewarded by the government for having children. Children are their own reward, to be sure. But they also cost a great deal of money--it costs money to feed, clothe, shelter, and educate children. Obviously, the more children one has, the more expensive it becomes. So, doesn't it logically follow that if you are introducing more (and I hesitate to use this word because oh how I love children) burdens into society (I guess I mean a burden in a sense that it's another student to educate, another mouth to feed, an increased use of resources to care for said child) that you should pay more to compensate society for that care? Yet here in Utah, families get innumerable benefits and breaks by having large families--free lunches, tax credits, free health care, etc. But someone has to pay for all of this, so those costs are spread around to everyone, including people without children.

On one hand, I see that society as a whole benefits from educated, healthy, happy citizens. And I realize that with the sad state of our current health care system, many people simply cannot afford to take care of their children despite their best efforts to do so. I guess my frustration has more to do with people who are otherwise capable of caring for their children without government help, but simply choose not to do so. I think staying at home with children is a wonderful choice. But if that's my choice, I don't think it's fair for me to force other people to subsidize my choice by funding government programs to which I don't contribute by not working, when I am perfectly capable of supporting myself and my family but choose otherwise. If we have kids and I choose to stay at home, you can bet that it won't be with the assistance of Medicaid or food stamps or other welfare. Why? We don't need it. We are both educated adults fully capable of supporting a family. Choosing not to work shouldn't create a financial windfall! Or if my husband and I are capable of supporting two children on one income, but choose to have seven while refusing to add to our income, should we be rewarded for that? It seems abusive and dishonest, if you ask me, not to mention in complete contravention of the principle of self-reliance taught in my religion, to which the majority of Utahns claim to subscribe.

So I guess my points are that our current health care system is hopelessly flawed and ridiculously expensive. The status quo is most definitely not working. I support health care reform that would provide a basic level of government subsidized care for everyone. I think basic health care is a right that shouldn't be denied to anyone. No one should die because they couldn't afford a hefty insurance premium. While we've made great strides in making housing, food, clothing, and education affordable for everyone, health care lags behind.

At the same time, I think this reform should come at the cost of an increase in oversight and limitations to other welfare programs to prevent abuse and windfalls to people who are actually capable of functioning with limited government assistance (for example, government health care, but not Medicaid, welfare, food stamps, and unemployment all at the same time). People who are working as hard as they can but still can't afford basics like health care and food--help them. People like me who are gainfully employed and are essentially healthy, but for whom health insurance remains unaffordable or unattainable--help them. People with college degrees and nice, shiny cars who are purposely unemployed but are requesting every form of government assistance available--maybe not so much.

Finally, I'm so so so so so sick of hearing people, especially those who share my faith, talk about how we shouldn't have to "share our hard-earned money like socialists", how Democrats don't want people to work for what they get, how they are "Republican, because we can't all be on welfare", how "it's not a crime to be wealthy" and how "no one should regulate the kind of health care I get." Guess what, someone already decides the health care you get--it's just your insurance company rep, who by the way is paid to represent the best interest of insurance company (which is also seeking profit). But most disturbing is this idea that we shouldn't have to share with or help the less fortunate. "We already have charities for that," or "I pay my tithing and fast offerings; that's enough," or "It's because they came here illegally and can't work," or "They [homeless people] brought it [homelessness] on themselves because they're drug addicts/alcoholics", or "Don't give him money! He'll just buy booze/drugs!" are things I hear all the time. Seriously? Are you freaking kidding me?

Apparently these people know something about our faith that I don't. Because I thought it said in our scriptures this in Mosiah 4:16-19:

"And also, ye yourselves will succor those that stand in need of your succor; ye will administer of your substance unto him that standeth in need; and ye will not suffer that the beggar putteth up his petition to you in vain, and turn him out to perish.

Perhaps thou shalt say: The man has brought upon himself his misery; therefore I will stay my hand, and will not give unto him of my food, nor impart unto him of my substance that he may not suffer, for his punishments are just—

But I say unto you, O man, whosoever doeth this the same hath great cause to repent; and except he repenteth of that which he hath done he perisheth forever, and hath no interest in the kingdom of God.

For behold, are we not all beggars? Do we not all depend upon the same Being, even God, for all the substance which we have, for both food and raiment, and for gold, and for silver, and for all the riches which we have of every kind?"

Silly me.

Haiti

2010-01-13T15:21:00.004-07:00

I have so many different posts swimming around in my head lately (New Year's resolutions, health care reform, etc.), but they all pale in comparison to the disaster in Haiti.

News reports estimate that 100,000 people are dead, and millions more injured, without food, without electricity, and/or without water. I know it might seem silly or small, but I want to do something--anything--to help. So I found out you can donate through the American Red Cross by texting "Haiti", and $10 will be added to your cell phone bill, or through the LDS Church website here.

$10 isn't much, but it's a start. And prayers are free.

Christmas Attitude Adjustment

2009-12-22T11:55:00.006-07:00

**WARNING: This post is long and probably rambles.**

I used to love Christmas. Like most kids, I thought it was the best holiday--full of fun activities, traditions, magic, excitement, anticipation, no school, and (of course) presents. Even as a teenager, when the magic had worn off, I always loved spending time with family as we carried out our traditions and shared our hopes for the coming year. As a newlywed, it was exciting to finally have my own house to decorate (for some reason I never really decorated my dorm in college when I was single). It was so fun to compare and participate in each other's family traditions while starting some of our own, believing that soon we'd be teaching our own children all about Christmas. We'd be creating new magic for them.

But that excitement has worn off too. I don't know if it's laziness or what, but for the past 2 years, I have had no interest in decorating my house for Christmas. Brian doesn't care about stuff like that, so it seems like just creating more work for myself (and more mess to clean up later). I haven't had time to do much shopping because work has been busy and every night I come home exhausted. We didn't draw names in my family because we all figured that money is tight for everyone and we don't need presents anyway. We haven't done any of the traditional activities we usually do, like seeing the Temple Square Lights or going to the Nutcracker.

But most of all, for me anyway, is that I just don't feel like doing anything. Christmas is supposed to be both a happy/exciting and reflective/hopeful time of year. But there's not much excitement going on in our lives right now, and when I reflect back on this year--it all kind of seems like I wasted a lot of time and money. Worst of all, I guess, is that I have no hope. Christmas, for me, always served as a marker of where I was in my life, and for the past few years, I'd told myself "Next year we'll have a baby with whom to share Christmas" or "Next Christmas we'll have an exciting announcement to make". So even though our situation wasn't ideal, I held onto hope that the next Christmas would be different. But that hope is all gone. Any hope I had for a child or a pregnancy announcement has utterly dissipated. Christmas is a painful reminder that not only do we not have a child, but we have no hope of having one.

Are you depressed yet?

While I really mean (and feel) every word of all of that, what's the common theme? Me. How I feel. What I want. What I don't have. Selfish, selfish, selfish. Clearly I have been in desperate need of an attitude adjustment.

Enter: my mom. Bless her heart, my mom has always made an effort to instill in her children the true meaning of Christmas. Some of the best Christmas memories I had growing up were taking bags and bags of canned goods to a makeshift homeless shelter under a freeway overpass and watching my grandmother spontaneously strip off her beautiful, expensive fur coat and hand it to a shivering young mother and her children, or taking stars off the Angel Tree at ZCMI where we each got to pick out requested presents for a homeless child. Although she cannot comprehend (and, to be honest, doesn't really try to) the pain of infertility, my mom is really good at motivating me to refocus my energy and attention to something I can change. My mom teaches ESL at the local elementary school. She has 90 students to teach (on a laughably meager budget), 50 of whom are refugees. These refugee children have been in the U.S. less than a year, including a large percentage who have only been here since October. The children are learning English at an amazing pace, and are trying to in turn teach their parents some English at home.

My mom has such an incredible love for all children, and especially these sweet refugees who have already seen and endured so much by an age at which other children are still playing make believe. In her ward (our church's equivalent of a parish or congregation), she serves on the activities committee. In years past, the committee has organized Sub-for-Santa type programs for needy local families. This year she suggested that instead of focusing exclusively on families in the ward, they could also help the families of some of her students, as she has been able to see firsthand that they have practically nothing. These children wear the same dirty, worn, ill-fitting clothing every day to school. Most have no socks or weather-appropriate shoes. Most have no winter coats. Most have never held a toy, let alone owned one. Essentially, they look like this:

Last week, my mom gathered all the donations, and we got to work shopping for 8 families--40 refugees in all. On Monday, my mom, dad, little brother, Brian, and I went to Old Navy. We started out small, buying every child a pair of jeans and a warm sweater, and every family a fleece blanket. We couldn't believe it when the total wasn't even half of the overall budget. So after sorting and labeling everything we'd already bought, my mom and I went again, buying sweaters for the parents, 3 pairs of socks for everyone, and a book and toy for each child. Others on the committee assembled stockings for everyone with shampoo, soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes, chapstick, gloves, and treats. On Saturday afternoon, we hauled all the bags--about 30 in all--to the church where the church youth, their leaders, and the rest of the committee were to meet us to wrap and deliver the gifts. We thought for sure no one would show up--after all, what teenagers would want to spend their Saturday working?

Imagine our surprise to find the room overflowing with people eager to help. After some initial chaos, we had every family's gifts wrapped and labeled after only and hour or two. Then we set off to deliver the gifts to these families--who were fortuitously located in only 2 apartment complexes--4 in one, and 4 in the other. The next part--that was the best. There really is nothing better--nothing at all--than seeing a child's face light up in surprise and excitement as their teacher "Miss Holly" and a huge group arrive with boxes of gifts. Most of the parents were shocked--but quickly invited us all in (since there was about 30 of us, we politely declined). Others of my mom's students to whom we weren't delivering gifts were so excited to see her that they became our makeshift guides through the complexes, eager to show us where their classmates lived. I can't accurately describe my feelings as I watched both the faces of the refugee children (shock, surprise, happiness, excitement) and those of the teenagers (especially the boys) delivering the gifts--pride in what they were doing, shock at the sight of how these families were living (rundown apartments housing too many people in too little space), admiration and awe at these families' apparent contentedness with their lives despite their spartan and humble surroundings, and a realization of and appreciation for the comparative luxury in which they themselves lived.

During one particular delivery, I actually cried. As the family opened the door while we sang Christmas carols, we saw that as many as 15 adults and children were crammed into a small family room sharing a tiny amount of food. A guest there who spoke excellent English explained that they had just finished a "prayer lunch". "We just finished our prayer, asking Christ for help. Then you knocked on the door," he said in amazement. How could I not be moved?

So that's it. I'm done wallowing. I'm done feeling sorry for myself and everything I don't have. I already have so much. I am thoroughly blessed. It's not having what you want; it's wanting what you've got (in the words of Sheryl Crow). Christmas is not about presents. It's not about toys. It's not about spoiling children or each other. It's not about having the perfect family. It's not about having the perfect decorations. It's not about having the perfect traditions, baking perfect cookies, and cooking perfect meals.

Christmas is about this:

It is a celebration of the birth of our Savior. It is a celebration of the hope His birth symbolized in the face of every possible reason to despair. It is a celebration of what He taught us was most important--loving and serving each other as He did. And it was only through this kind of loving service that my heart and attitude were changed.

15 Minute Breakdown

2009-12-03T17:34:00.005-07:00

Today started out fine. I had a CLE (continuing legal education)* this morning because the end of the year is rapidly approaching and, as usual, I have procrastinated getting all my hours. It was boring, but overall, fine. The I got back to work and it was like a bomb went off on my desk. Piles and piles of work to do--unpleasant work. I was still okay until I came across a letter from opposing counsel. It was a nasty letter, full of rudeness, unprofessionalism, uncivility, cheap shots, and ridiculous threats. I don't know what it is about this particular attorney, but she sets me off like none other. I just lost it. I had a shut-my-door-and-cry-for-15-minutes breakdown. Embarrassing? Yes. But I just couldn't help it.

I have been feeling really overwhelmed at work lately. I know it's a good thing I have a job at a time when many are out of work. I know I picked a stressful and contentious career (sometimes not sure why...I could've been something much more pleasant, like a florist or a kindergarten teacher). But I feel like I have at least 10 clients and their opposing counsel to deal with, all of whom want my undivided attention and are difficult, if not impossible, to please. I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants half the time and never quite feeling like I'm getting it all done as quickly and correctly as I should be. I worry that I don't know enough, don't have enough experience, am not getting it right, etc. On top of that, Brian's job has been giving us a lot of stress lately that I find more infuriating than anything else. Basically, if we had known how bad the market would be, we certainly wouldn't have spent the bulk of our liquid cash/savings (at least $30,000) on failed fertility procedures. Yes, we are both employed. Yes, we have enough to pay our bills and still save some extra. Yes, we still earn the same amount we always have. But job security is always a nagging concern.

So, yeah, I cried at work. Then I felt dumb and girly and blatantly anti-feminist. Women have a hard enough time succeeding in the workplace without being labeled "emotional". At least no one saw, right? And hopefully, the fact that after my little cryfest I got right to work ripping apart the offensive letter will offset the fact that I cried first. Tell me I'm not the only one!

*Ironically, the last part of the CLE was on professionalism and civility. I guess that opposing counsel missed it?

Veteran's Day 2009

2009-11-11T13:58:00.001-07:00

Today is an important day at our house--a hard one, but very important. Today we remember and honor those who have served or are currently serving our country. Regardless of politics or how you feel about current military conflicts, I hope everyone can agree that what veterans have done (and still are doing) is courageous, commendable, and heroic. Unfortunately, it seems like all you hear about in the news are those sad few soldiers who snap and hurt those around them. In my personal opinion, I think those cases can either be attributed to seriously mentally ill individuals and/or the military's failure to adequately care for soldiers, especially psychologically and especially those who have experienced trauma. I think most, if not nearly all, soldiers are responsible, honorable, hard-working, patriotic, and would never, ever hurt their fellow soldiers or innocent civilians.

Nevertheless, the horrific actions of a select few are not today's point. Today is about remembrance, reverence, and respect. Today I remember my grandfathers and Brian's grandparents, who served in World War II and had their hearts broken by war. Today I remember my father-in-law, who served in Vietnam and despite seeing things he wishes he could forget, is still the most patriotic man I know. Today I remember my husband, who served in the military for six years. I know Veteran's Day is really hard for Brian. I think he cannot shake memories of lost friends and the pain of carrying the flag-draped casket of yet another fallen comrade. But today I think of him, and although I know he wouldn't like me sharing private details of everything he's experienced, I think he deserves to be honored. My husband earned one of the military's highest and rarest honors (or at least it was rare until President Bush began handing them out like candy): a Silver Star. My husband risked his life numerous times to save his fellow soldiers, then wasn't allowed to discuss it or wear the medal for years (stupid classified missions). But everything has been unsealed now, and because he never received the recognition he was due, this is my meager attempt to give him just a little bit.

My husband is a hero, and I wish everyone knew it.

Sick

2009-10-28T12:42:00.001-06:00

I feel like this:

but I am supposed to be getting about ten million projects done at work so I can hop on a plane tomorrow night and visit my sister. It's the U of R's last home soccer game, and being that she's the only senior, it's officially being called Tenley Day. I can't miss it. Any ideas for instant cold remedies? (And to think, I've spent the past week touting my superior immune system as everyone around me fell ill, one by one!) Airplanes aren't really as dirty and germy as they always seem, right?

So maybe it's because I'm tall?

2009-10-25T23:54:00.003-06:00

I just found a really interesting article in the news today about evolution/natural selection playing a role in women's fertility. Apparently, they were able to zero in on certain traits common to women having lots of children, and those women having lots of children, and here's what they found:

"It [is] stout, slightly plump (but not obese) women who tend to have more children."

Apparently thin women tend to not ovulate or have endometriosis, and thinner women are more likely to have lower blood pressure and cholesterol. Although, what with in vitro this past summer, I certainly am not struggling to achieve "plump". In fact, I am struggling to be "not plump". But my blood pressure has always been low, and my cholesterol is normal. I ovulate every month, and ever since my laparoscopy last spring, I don't have any endometriosis. However, I'm just not stout. I come from a family of tall women. My mom was a college basketball player and is 5'8". She never had to try more than one single month before getting pregnant (and a surprise pregnancy when she thought she was done having kids!). My sister is a college soccer player and is 5'9" (fortunately she is not pregnant nor trying to get pregnant as she is 21, unmarried, and still in school). I'm right in the middle of my mom and sister--5'8.5". My dad's sisters are all tall. No one, to my knowledge, has had any problems getting pregnant aside from one aunt who just needed a little Clomid.

Although, truthfully, our doctors don't think there's anything wrong with me or affecting my fertility (right now, anyway, but who knows if there's just something they've missed or haven't found yet?), wouldn't it be weird if the reason we've been having so much trouble is just because I'm tall?

Take 5 + Perspective

2009-10-23T23:42:00.010-06:00

I saw this on my friend Beck's blog, about a writing assignment for which she listed 5 of her biggest worries in life, then how one might look at them as potential disguised blessings:

1--I never get pregnant and never give birth to a healthy baby. Maybe we'll have the opportunity to experience the miracle of adoption, with all of its blessings, leaps of faith, and new and important relationships created.

2--We never have children at all. Maybe our marriage and relationship would grow stronger and deeper than it ever could have if we had the pressures, stresses, and divisiveness that all too often come with parenthood. We could travel, buy a bigger/nicer home, save more money, and retire earlier than if we'd had children.

3--One of us loses our job. If it was Brian, then he'd have an opportunity to go back to school for a more advanced degree and eventually get a better job, maybe making more money and maybe in an area outside of Utah where we've always wanted to live. If it was me, maybe my career would grow and change into something incredible that it never could have working at my current, modest job with my dad.

4--My endometriosis comes back. I could have a quick, minimally-invasive laparoscopy like last time where the doctor gets everything, except this time they actually find something wrong with me that's easily fixable and results in us finally getting (and staying) pregnant. Is it weird that I think finding something wrong with me could be a blessing? Probably. But it's very frustrating to have everything look normal and healthy and still be no closer to your goal. So I think a (fixable) problem would be a nice change, or at least an answer.

5--Someone I love dies. I've already lost people I've cared about, and it hasn't broken me. Yes, it's hard and it's sad. But life doesn't stop. If I lost someone else, I would be forced to rely on my faith and my belief that if I live the way I think I should, I will have the opportunity to see my loved ones again and be with them forever.

For me, this exercise has been cathartic. I encourage everyone to take a second and put your worries in perspective.

One of those days...

2009-10-14T13:34:00.001-06:00

It's only noon and it's already been one of those days. You know, the ones where nothing seems to be going quite right? It all started when I woke up late because, idiot that I am, I set my alarm for "PM" instead of "AM". So I was in a hurry to get ready, and put my brush down on my bathroom counter like I sometimes do (instead of doing what my mother taught me, which was to put everything back in its proper place). I had to quickly use the bathroom, and as I stood to flush and wash my hands, what did I do? Yep, that's right, I knocked my favorite brush...into the toilet! Eeewwww! Obviously I'll be going to get a new brush later today. I had to finish doing my hair with just a comb. It looks awful, not just because of the brush, but because I really need to have it cut and highlighted.

So, to make myself feel better, I think I'm taking a trip sometime this weekend to Anthropologie (even if I can only window shop) while Brian goes on his annual golf-surf-football trip with his friends. Oh, and since my house is an utter disaster, I also scheduled Daisy Maids to come deep clean it. I know, I know, it's ok if you're judging me right now. I am. My mom would die if she knew that I am actually paying good money for someone else to clean my house. I'm perfectly capable of deep cleaning my own house, and I've never paid for something I usually take pride in doing myself. But I've heard great things about Daisy Maids, they're reasonably priced, and I just feel like I have ten million projects and nowhere near the time to do them all. I always seem to think I'll get all these huge projects done while Brian's gone, and I usually only finish one or two. So maybe if I have a little help with the house cleaning just this once, I'll be able to focus on other projects no one else can really help with--like sorting, organizing, winterizing the yard, washing all large blankets and comforters at the laundromat, bubble-wrapping and packing away fragile things I don't need, etc.

So, to me, knowing that on Saturday my house will be sparkling clean has already filled me with a combination of excitement, anticipation, and guilt over such an indulgence. But on a day like today, it has to be better for me than a giant ice cream cone, right?

Another hilarious offering

2009-10-08T15:48:00.000-06:00

Mo and Will have done it again! I'm thinking of having this printed into little cards to hand out:

What do you think?

A card for every occasion...

2009-10-02T16:06:00.001-06:00

Sometimes it's hard to focus on the good when you're in the midst of what feels like an unending trial. It has been nearly 2 years since we have been seriously trying to conceive, and almost 5 since I last took birth control (other than for our IVF cycle).

But I'd say the best possible thing about our experiences in the past year or two have been meeting and befriending others in similar situations. Online, blogging and connecting with others has been an amazing creative outlet. I feel like I can express what's swimming around in my head (how eloquently I do that, however, is another story) and someone out there will really know just how I feel. Similarly, I love when I find someone's blog who writes so poignantly and beautifully, and expresses everything I'm feeling but for whatever reason haven't expressed. And sometimes I really just need to laugh.

To that end, I've been reading some hilarious e-cards at Some Ecards, which had me laughing so loudly I had to shut my office door. So if anyone wanted to get me a birthday card and just forgot, here's a suggestion (image/ecard from Mo and Will):

If you feel guilty for laughing at this, please don't. It's funny. Yes, our situation is sad. But today I'm sick of sad. So laugh!

26

2009-09-30T15:32:00.004-06:00

We just got back last night from a quick trip to California, which can be summed up in 26 points:

1. It was hot. Really hot. Like unpack all my summer clothes that I'd just put away for fall hot. Then we came home to rainy, cold fall.

2. The Long Beach airport is white trash. Seriously, they can't afford actual walls and and roof? I have to sit here in what is essentially a large tent to wait for my bags?

3. The money we saved flying into Long Beach and the fact that we got to fly on Jet Blue made the white trash airport experience worth it. That and the stylin' Ford Focus we rented. Brian was really embarrassed.

4. Want to have a fight with your spouse? Get a GPS, and have one of you navigate while the other drives. "Which way do I turn? Hurry! Tell me!" "I DON'T KNOW! THE STUPID LADY HASN'T TOLD ME YET!"

5. We went to our third Angels game in two months. It was hot there too (and kind of a boring game).

6. After spending the past five years of marriage convinced that Brian couldn't be guilt tripped into anything, I happily found out I was wrong. He took one for the team in a big way, and I was oh so proud of him.

7. The older I get, the more antisocial I become. Spending a weekend being forced to socialize with people I don't know made me want to hide.

8. I can't believe what a difference five years makes in our nephews' (and niece's) growth. It seems like just yesterday they were running around full of energy at our wedding! It was so nice to sit back and observe what polite, genuine, mature young adults they have become (and still are becoming).

9. Thank goodness for "do not disturb" signs to hang on the hotel room door and a husband who gets ready quietly. I don't ever want to see 6:00 a.m. (or 7 or 8) while on vacation.

10. We got to see Tenley's soccer game in Redlands. I sure wish we'd gotten there earlier, though, because a few hours of sitting on the incline of a hill made my rear end alternately sore and numb. But hooray for free Otter Pops in the 100+ degree heat!

11. I really, really miss my sister. When I'm busy at home, it's easier to shove those feelings aside and forget how much I love having her close. I'm sure we annoyed the boys quite a bit with our silliness and inside jokes.

12. I had a low key 26th birthday on Monday. I'm not really sure how I feel about turning 26. On one hand, I know that it's still pretty young. On the other hand, I definitely feel I'm on the downhill slide to 30. And it's hard not to think about where I expected to be at this age versus reality.

13. I took a break from the restrictive diet I've been doing to celebrate the birthday--delicious Sonny's and my favorite spinach salad at Claim Jumper (with mint chocolate chip mud pie for dessert!).

14. We went to South Coast Plaza, truly one of the best places to shop, so I could spend my birthday money.

15. I spent most of my birthday money at Nordstrom (shoes), Banana Republic (sweater, trench coat), Anthropologie (sweaters), Tiffany (necklaces), and Chanel (classic ballet flats). Sure, I probably could've saved it for something more practical, like making a larger student loan payment, but that wouldn't have been half as fun or satisfying.

15. I missed my babies! Even though I'm glad my family was willing to watch Lola and Bella while we were gone, and it was easier to distract myself during the day while we were busy, I hated not having them to snuggle with at night. I imagine it's how moms feel about leaving their children for a vacation--nice to have a break with just your spouse, but anxiety and homesickness set in after only a day or two.

16. It was awkward to attend two family functions where food was served and I didn't really contribute anything. I'm accustomed to cooking and baking up a storm for family events, so I felt like a total mooch on Saturday. That's why I made Brian buy chips and salsa to make a meager contribution to Sunday's meal.

17. I went to bed every night utterly exhausted, no matter what time it was and what time I'd gotten up that morning.

18. What is it about shopping that imbues me with endless energy to walk (surely) miles and miles in a gigantic mall while schlepping piles of heavy bags, while I want off the treadmill after only a mile or two?

19. I'm so glad I have a husband who has learned to be patient with me while I shop. I tend to want to look at and try on everything, even I have no intention of making an actual purchase.

20. After requesting a late check-out and reveling in the ability to sleep in as late as we wanted yesterday morning, we were rudely awakened at 5:30 a.m. by the front desk manager. Why, you ask? Apparently someone on the floor below was complaining about an alarm going off above them and the manager wanted to know if it was ours. To be fair, he did apologize for waking us up. But really? Don't you think if an alarm in our room was blaring so loudly that guests below could hear that I'd know it (and not be asleep)? And wouldn't you get off your rear and walk the halls to see if you could hear anything before randomly calling rooms and waking guests? And if you were the complaining guest, wouldn't you make sure you knew the source of the sound before calling the manager and requesting that he call guests' rooms? Incidentally, I'm pretty sure it was either total B.S. or something limited to the floor below us, since I couldn't hear a thing despite my best investigative efforts.

21. I'm sure it's difficult to travel with young children. They can be unpredictable and tend to act out when hungry, bored, and/or tired. And I realize that being a mom, in general, is hard and tiring. But perhaps, Mrs. Flying-with-3-Kids-under-5, you should plan better. Perhaps you shouldn't plan to fly from 8:30 to 10:30 p.m., when your kids really should be asleep in beds. Perhaps you should bring enough snacks, drinks, toys, books, or whatever to entertain them. Perhaps you should shush them or at least pretend to care when they run screaming through the airport. Perhaps you should make at least a half-hearted attempt to chase them down. Perhaps you shouldn't put in earphones and pretend you can't hear them as they scream directly into my ears for the entire flight. And perhaps you shouldn't ask to jump to the front of the very crowded aisle/line just because you have a child with you. Just sayin'.

22. Because our flight was a bit late, I got in some truly choice people-watching/eavesdropping. I heard a desperate single girl's attempt to hit on a married father (btw, advertising your operatic and lingerie-selling talents whilst simultaneously vowing to quit working the second you're married doesn't strike me as the best way to snag a mate, let alone a taken one), and two women talk about one-night-stand pregnancies.

23. I saw perhaps the sluttiest outfit ever on a girl at BJ's with Tenley, Brian, and Brian. Short, black, leather, front and back full length zippers, ample cleavage threatening to spill out, and 6-inch hooker heels. One look at her 500-pound 50-year-old male companion confirmed my suspicion that he was paying for the date in more ways than one.

24. All malls are not created equal. Since we had some time to kill in lovely Long Beach before our flight home, we decided to wander around Lakewood Center. It made Valley Fair look like the Gateway.

25. I actually got sick of In-n-Out. Although it's usually one of my favorite guilty California pleasures, having it three times in three days was more than enough.

26. There's no place like snuggling your puppies and spouse in your own bed in your own home, even if you have to be 26 while doing so.

Too much Subway?

2009-09-14T13:48:00.007-06:00

I like Subway. Because I'm kind of lazy and can't stand to pack myself a lunch every single day, I usually end up going to Subway at least once a week. It's quick. It's cheap. And it's a lot healthier than most fast food options. So I've never felt too bad about going there so often.

But today, as I ordered my sandwich and Brian's and got down to pay, the worker there immediately noticed me. "I just put out fresh apples. Should I grab you your regular pack?" Clearly, despite the fact that this particular Subway is always jam-packed, the employee recognized me as the lady who always gets apples. Awesome.

Is this a sign I'm patronizing Subway just a little too often?

Mercy vs. Advocacy

2009-08-21T15:13:00.004-06:00

Sometimes my job is really hard. Other times, say, when opposing counsel neglects to show up for a pretrial conference, it's a little easier. In one of my current cases, opposing counsel had certified it ready for trial. So the court had scheduled a pre-trial conference for this morning.

Miraculously, I get all my people there at 7:45 (the hearing started at 8:00). We wait. We wait. We wait some more. By now it's 8:15 and still nada. We're in an empty court room. Finally the judge comes out, and we explain why we're there. The judge, visibly ticked off that the opposing counsel (who called for the hearing in the first place) aren't there, dismisses their claim.

I know the opposing counsel. The senior attorney is a bit of a jerk, but the junior associate is genuinely nice. We've been practicing the same amount of time. He's a junior associate like I am. So I felt an unexpected rush of pity when he called me frantically later in the afternoon apologizing for the no-show. While it was enjoyable to be in a position of relative power (and relieving to be the party who didn't screw up and anger the judge), I felt truly sorry for his obvious panic. I don't blame him either; the mistake was big--an ethical breach and possibly malpractice.

So there I was, caught. On one hand, my job is to advocate for MY clients' best interests. Was it in their best interests to show one shred of mercy? Absolutely not. But I found myself unable or perhaps unwilling to be as cutthroat and ruthless as my position entitled me to be (though, admittedly, in my head I might have done a "neener neener neener" more than once). Realizing that his only remedy would be to ask the court to set aside the dismissal, I did a bit of research and armed myself with cases in which courts denied such petitions (and basically told the losing party "too bad"). But I also decided to see if there was a way to settle the matter in a manner that was acceptable to my clients, but would spare the junior associate the stress of a potential malpractice suit. In making what I think was a reasonable offer, I reminded the attorney that if his client did not accept it TODAY, not only would we oppose his attempt to set aside the dismissal, but we'd also be filing motions relative to incomplete discovery and we'd be asking the court to order them to pay our attorney's fees for this whole mess. I didn't have to offer him anything. My clients were willing to roll the dice on the motions, and possibly with trial. But I thought this would be the most cost-effective and yet merciful way that I could achieve my clients' objectives without crushing the other side. Plus, in my opinion, a little kindness and professional courtesy go a long way.

So that brings me to my point, or I guess question, of the day. Frequently we're taught, both secularly and in our choice of church, that mercy cannot rob justice. But how does that play out in your reality? How do you balance feelings of mercy, pity, and empathy against logic, responsibility, and (ultimately) what is technically right and just?

Recipes

2009-08-17T15:18:00.004-06:00

Oops! I almost forgot the whole point of posting the menu was to provide recipes. Just click the links for broccoli slaw salad, spinach salad, pasta salad, and clam dip since I'm too lazy to copy them over from where I posted them on a recipe swap blog.

However, I think the biggest hit at the shower were my Orange-Raspberry Cream Cupcakes:

*Cake:
1 Duncan Hines orange supreme cake mix
Ingredients called for on package

**Cream Filling:
1 8 oz. pkg. cream cheese, softened
1 egg
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1 pint fresh raspberries

***Frosting:
1 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 tsp. orange zest
juice of 1 orange
2 lbs. powdered sugar

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 325. Line nonstick muffin tins with paper cups.
2. Mix cake batter according to package directions, but follow the high altitude directions (usually a little extra flour and water).
3. In a separate bowl, mix together filling ingredients. For a smoother filling, add raspberries before mixing everything together with an electric mixer. For bigger raspberry chunks, whip filling together before stirring in raspberries by hand. I like to go half and half--put half the pint in and blend with mixer, then stir in other half by hand.
4. Fill muffin cups half full with cake mixture.
5. Spoon a heaping tablespoon of cream filling on top of each muffin cup.
6. Tap muffin tins on counter so everything settles in--they should be about 3/4 full.
7. Bake for 16-18 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean except for a few very tiny, moist crumbs.
8. Cool in pan for 5 minutes, then loosen edges to remove cupcakes from the tins and cool completely on a wire rack.
9. To make the frosting, combine all ingredients except powdered sugar in a bowl and mix with an electric mixer. Then gradually add powdered sugar until it is stiff yet still spreadable (about 2 lbs.).
10. Frost and decorate as desired. I like to use a pastry bag because it looks clean and really is a lot faster.
11. Store cupcakes in the fridge--it makes the cream cheese filling taste better and is there anything yummier than cold cake? I think not.

*I adapted this recipe from one of my mom's for "black bottom cupcakes". The original recipe used a devil's food cake mix, but I've done this with white cake, yellow cake, lemon cake, spice cake, carrot cake, etc.

**The original recipe just calls for the sugar, salt, cream cheese, and egg, plus chocolate chips. But I've added cinnamon, mint extract and green food coloring, orange extract and orange food coloring, etc. You can change this up a million ways.

***This orange frosting is really just a dressed-up version of vanilla buttercream, which is my favorite frosting ever. Just omit the orange zest and juice for plain vanilla, or add mint, cocoa powder, various extracts, or food coloring to customize it.

Bridal Shower

2009-08-17T15:10:00.004-06:00

On Saturday I got to help throw my best friend Danyelle a bridal shower. Danyelle and I have been friends since the second grade, and I am so excited and happy for her to take this next big step!

Since I'm just a tiny bit perfectionistic/type A/bossy/control freakish, I was thrilled to be able to basically do what I wanted for the shower. Danyelle's other bridesmaids Lindsay and Kendra took care of the invitations, the fruit, the drinks, and sandwiches (in addition to hosting duties), while I brought the china, silverware, napkins, and the rest of the food.

Since Danyelle's wedding colors are peach and cream, we decided to go with orange and white for the shower colors. I brought my white polka dot china to coordinate with orange polka dot napkins and cupcake papers. Although the menu was a bit ambitious (for me anyway), I was able to accomplish it with careful planning (and a helpful little sous chef--thanks again Bri!).

Here's what we had:
Chicken salad and salmon salad sandwiches
Watermelon
Pasta salad
Spinach salad
Broccoli slaw salad
Clam dip and chips
Orange-raspberry cupcakes

Although I was a little worried about how the cupcakes were going to turn out (imagine me at 1:00 a.m. Saturday morning freaking out as I pulled them from the oven...then waking up at 6:30 a.m. to find they firmed up nicely in the fridge), I think everything ended up being successful. It was so fun to see Danyelle's family and watch her excitedly open up gifts for her new life.

Only 2 more weeks until the wedding!

Happy Birthday Bella!

2009-07-22T16:27:00.004-06:00

I almost forgot to make a quick post about Bella's birthday. I know some of you might think it's weird, but my dogs are extremely important to me. They're my children and I love them as if they were human.

Today Bella-girl (aka Baby B, Bebo, and a myriad of other silly names I call her) turns one! Don't worry, I have all the supplies for a party, too. We're having pup-cakes (in pink puppy-print wrappers) and a dog-friendly menu.

We just love our Bella. She really has the sweetest temperament and calmest demeanor of any dog I've known. She loves all toys, especially balls (golf and tennis are her personal favorites), cuddling with me, and water. We joke that she's really a mini-lab because she doesn't look much like a Chihuahua and adores bath time. I can't believe that last fall we were only planning on getting one, and I was leaning toward just Lola. I can't imagine our lives without her. Without my pups, I swear, infertility and our failed in vitro would've driven me right over the edge.

So happy birthday sweet girl! We love you!

Guilty Pleasures

2009-07-22T13:21:00.007-06:00

So I am FREAKING OUT right now! Why? I'm really, really, really excited. Even though I'm an educated, fully grown woman, I have several distinct guilty pleasures in which I indulge from time to time, whether they are age appropriate or not.

I love British chick lit. This is ironic in that my bachelor's degree taught me to appreciate, analyze, understand, and truly love the complex, well-written words found in the world's greatest works of literature. British chick lit is, by definition, not terribly deep or always done well. I hesitate to even call it "literature". But I love it. It's lunchy, cheesy, fluffy, meaningless, and I love it. It's my thing. Get over it.

I love sweet potato fries. This is a relatively new find for me, and I'm in love. Somehow, in my mind, the fact that they're sweet potatoes makes up for the deep fried part. I know, logically, that the nutritional superiority of sweet potatoes to regular potatoes gets overshadowed by frying, but I just don't care. They are that good.

I love anything with cinnamon in it (real or artificial). Cinnamon rolls, snickerdoodles, cinnamon bears, etc. I love them all.

Finally, I love tv shows I'm most definitely too old to watch. Lately I've been loving Make It or Break It and 10 Things I Hate about You even though the main characters are all in high school (and I am decidedly not). I don't always watch a lot of tv, but that's where my electronic boyfriend Mr. DVR comes in handy. I love Mr. DVR. He always does exactly what I say. He's eager to please me whenever and however I want. And there's nothing better than a lazy Sunday afternoon spent with Mr. DVR and all the shows he's saved up for me.

A few months ago Mr. DVR recorded a pilot for a new show this fall, Glee. I watched it with Brian and we both enjoyed it (well, Brian tolerated it...and considering it's a lot of musical stuff, that's almost as good as enjoying it). I am really excited to see more episodes this fall!

Anyway, this morning I was reading something on E!'s website where I came across a posting about a Glee taping in Glendale, California on July 28. We're leaving this weekend for southern California and will be there all next week. The posting said the first 25 people to reply to their e-mail could go to a taping of a Glee episode and be in the audience shown on tv. Figuring there was no way I'd get that lucky, I sent an e-mail with my address and Brian's. Lo and behold, WE SCORED 4 TICKETS! I am so freaking excited! I have no desire to be famous or on tv or anything like that, but I love the show and cannot wait to get a close-up look at what will be happening. See, just when I was sort of complaining about the negative things that have happened...look what I get! Woo hoo!

Lucky

2009-07-20T21:22:00.002-06:00

In the midst of all the crappy things that have happened to me over the past year or so, it's nice to be reminded, in small ways, of the things I have for which I'm grateful.

Today both Brian and I had a long day of work--you know how it is the first day back from vacation (plus preparing to leave for another vacation in just a few days). Unfortunately, tomorrow is garbage day and our lawn is getting its monthly treatment, so today was the last day to do yard work.

I hurried home from work to surprise Brian by getting started on everything. By the time he was home from running post-work errands, I was done mowing the front yard and halfway done with the back. After a quick shower, I ran to do a few errands before places closed.

And what awaited me when I walked through the door? A delicious meal of barbecued chicken, grilled asparagus, mashed potatoes, and strawberries with angel food cake for dessert. Yep, I'm one lucky girl.

Five Years

2009-07-17T13:38:00.001-06:00

Today is our fifth anniversary. I remember being so excited, nervous, scared, anxious, giddy, and completely in love on that day. On that day we had no idea what awaited us. We had no idea how many heartbreaks, frustrations, and challenges we'd face. We had no idea how many triumphs, accomplishments, and milestones we'd experience.

There is still a lot we have to figure out about marriage. We have much to learn. Undoubtedly we have more trials ahead of us...but fortunately I believe we have many more exciting and joyful experiences awaiting us too. All I know for sure is that five years ago I married my best friend. And we are still in love.

I'm Out

2009-07-14T14:18:00.006-06:00

We had a fun (but tiring) 4th of July weekend barbecuing with both families, a wonderful experience attending our nephew's baptism last weekend, and another legendary laugh-so-hard-you-cry-or-want-to-throw-up Sunday dinner with my fam. No time to blog, though, because I'm running around like a headless chicken trying to get a million things done before we leave. For example, last night Brian did all the yardwork by himself while I spent 3 1/2 hours at a laundromat doing every last bit of clothing, towels, blankets, and anything else we could possibly need for our 2 upcoming trips.

First up: Jackson Lake, Wyoming for the annual Rawlings Family trip. We've been spending a week at the lake ever since I can remember, and I've only missed 1 year because I was on my honeymoon. We'll celebrate our fifth anniversary this Friday up there--hopefully at one of our favorite restaurants and a movie in one of Jackson's old school theaters.

Then I'll be home for all of 3 days before we take off for San Clemente and a week at the beach. The puppies will celebrate their first birthdays (July 22 and July 29) while we're there. Yep, I know, I'm THAT lady. I'm the crazy my-dogs-are-my-babies lady. Oh well!

So right now I'm working like a mad woman to make sure nothing catastrophic happens while I'm gone. I hope everyone has a fun couple of weeks--I know I will!

News Reactions

2009-07-03T12:00:00.002-06:00

When you're infertile, married into a big LDS family, go to church with other LDS couples/families, and have at least one female friend, you will inevitably be faced with announcements of others' pregnancies at the worst possible time.

When we first started trying to conceive, pregnancy announcements weren't sad, painful, annoying, or unwelcome (ok, truthfully, some might have been a bit annoying). While I had previously found them either uninteresting and boring, at the beginning I found them exciting little sneak previews of what we'd be doing shortly. Baby showers were fun and a chance to exercise my hostess/party planning skills. I felt sincerely happy and congratulatory toward the expectant couples.

But when your own pregnancy announcement just isn't coming, the evolution and thought process starts going like this (another blogger first came up with an idea like this, but I've tailored it to my feelings and situation)--oh, and I should add that my feelings and thoughts are NOT directed toward anyone specifically, so please don't be offended:

*I'm so happy for you (generally sincere).

*I'm so happy for you (slightly fake, but oh well).

*I'm trying to happy for you (honest, and at the very least a noble goal).

*Ok, I'm really not that happy for you (but it's just because I'm caught up in sadness for me, and I'm not bitter).

*Ok, not only am I definitely not happy for you, but I'm sad, angry, jealous, and probably listing reasons why I deserve a baby more than you (as if there are only a finite number of blessings available in the world, and we have to compete for them).

*Now I feel guilty that I'm not happy for you because I'm overwhelmed with my anger, sadness, grief, and jealousy, and this isn't who I am or want to be.

So that's where I am. Infertility just really messes with your head. It makes you start to think irrationally and question everything--what have I done to deserve this? Is there some horrible sin for which I'm being punished with infertility? Would I be a horrible parent, so God is just sparing poor, innocent babies from having me as their mother? Is infertility nature's way of telling us our genes shouldn't continue and we should "just adopt"? Should we try IVF again? What if there's something horribly wrong with me the doctors just haven't found yet? Did I marry the wrong person? Is infertility a sign that we're just not supposed to be together? If we had married other people, would we have children by now? Is Brian's sperm really the only problem, so could I get pregnant easily with someone else? Would we be happier?

The answer to all of these questions is, of course, NO. Infertility is never just one person's fault (or anyone's, for that matter). So to anyone out there calling herself "Fertile Myrtle" or bragging about how she gets pregnant just by looking at her husband, stop. No, seriously, STOP IT. Because guess what? Humans are not a very fertile species at all. In fact, a couple with no fertility problems at all, timing their sex to perfectly coincide with ovulation, still only has a 20% chance of conception in any given month. That means they have an 80% chance of failure for no good reason! It always always always takes two to tango, figuratively speaking. You could have merely adequate eggs that your husband's super sperm just can't help but fertilize. You might both have just normal, adequate parts and get lucky. (Or, ok, to be fair...you might have super eggs that your husband's barely sufficient sperm can fertilize just because your eggs are that great). Yeah, I know, you think about some crazy, emotional, irrational stuff with infertility.

So this is where I am. I'm caught in this place where I'd like to be happy for others, and I know that's what I should be. I know that God doesn't dole out babies based on who wants them the most, who'd be the best parents, who could best take care of them, etc. I know, logically, infertility is not some form of divine punishment, but it can feel like it. I know people mean well when they tell me to be patient, to relax, to be more faithful, to be more prayerful, that I should just trust God's timetable because it's not like ours, etc. I know those who say they know exactly what we're going through (after all, they had to try 3 whole months to conceive) just want to empathize. I know those who remind me constantly that they have no idea what I'm going through because they get pregnant all the time aren't trying to point out how different and broken I am. I know pregnancy announcements and baby showers aren't meant to torture or hurt me, because they're not about me at all. I know people pushing us to adopt don't understand why we're not ready for that yet, and they just want this trial to be over for us just like we do. I know people questioning our treatment protocol and offering us health and nutrition tips aren't trying to contradict or minimize the advice of our RE; they're just trying to be helpful. I know ALL OF THIS, logically.

But emotionally, it's just really hard. It's hard to decide how to interact with pregnant women or women with newborns (and lots of other children). On one hand, part of me just wants to get away from it all. I want to pretend it's not happening, not go to anything like a baby shower or a birthday party, move away, and retreat into my own little world. But then I know that will make me the subject of misunderstanding, speculation, gossip, and worst of all--pity. But what's the alternative? Plaster a fake smile on my face and pretend that I'm not screaming inside about how this should be my turn?!

I guess I'd like to have a choice in these matters--I don't want to be purposely excluded, because then my absence draws unecessary attention and I feel singled out. I'd like to be given the choice of whether to attend or participate, and ideally I'd love someone to be understanding if and when I just cannot handle going. I don't mind periodic questions about how we're doing or what our next step is, and I think throughout this process I've been pretty open, but I'd like to be given the choice of how much and when to share (thereby respecting what little privacy and dignity we have left). I don't mind advice when I've asked for it, but I'd prefer no unsolicited advice or judgment. I'd appreciate love and support and prayers, whether we never do in vitro again or we try it 10 times, whether we never adopt or apply multiple times, whether we never have children or have 20.

Finally THIS is a really excellent article for people looking for ways to understand, help, and support friends and family who are struggling with infertility. I know it's probably hard to know what to say and do, and it's hard to understand something that a) isn't very clear and b) isn't always relatable. I really recommend reading it, and if I remember, I'll post it in its entirety.

Grades

2009-07-02T11:33:00.006-06:00

I think I've always been obsessed with good grades. As a child, I definitely began exhibiting obsessive-compulsive, type-A, overachieving, perfectionist tendencies early. I'm not sure if I was just born that way, or if my parents instilled it in me, or both. But I always felt driven to excel and achieve the highest grades possible.

That's not to say my grades were always perfect. As a fallible human being, I was bound to fall short more than once. But for the most part, I have always felt confident in my ability to deliver desired grades and succeed academically and otherwise (and without really trying too hard). I loved nothing more than seeing an unblemished report card full of perfect straight A's. School gave me confidence and built my self-esteem at a time when many, if not most, kids really struggle. My parents didn't reward us with money or gifts for getting good grades--it was more of an expectation that we do our best, with that "best" being A's. I think the most I ever got, in terms of monetary rewards, was dinner out at my choice of restaurant.

But sometimes, my perfect little bubble was painfully burst. The first such occasion on which I can remember falling short of perfection in terms of grades, which was really traumatic for me, was when I was 7 years old and in 2nd grade. I was in Mrs. Fackler's class, and as it so happened, our elementary school issued grades in Reading/Language Arts, Math, Science, Social Studies, Health, and...Handwriting. That's right, handwriting. As if, in life, your success or failure would be determined by your ability to replicate letters (especially since any items in the real world have to be typed anyway...I took my law school finals and even the bar exam on my laptop!), and that Handwriting deserved equal attention, instruction, and weight as English, Math, and Science. Ridiculous, I know.

As a consequence of either skipping a grade (causing me to be slightly behind in fine motor skills), or my affinity for doing things quickly, my handwriting wasn't perfect. It wasn't bad or illegible, but apparently it was not always worthy of an "A" grade. I remember, so clearly, opening my 2nd term report card...and there, under "Handwriting", my grade was listed...B+. I was distraught, despondent, hysterical, inconsolable, and any other hyperbolic adjective you can imagine. I barely made it home from school before throwing myself on the carpet at the top of the stairs and dissolving into sobs. My perfect grades were ruined! My report card, and by extension, my life, would never be the same! Why couldn't I write straight, small, and perfectly clear like other girls? Aren't girls supposed to have neat, pretty handwriting? Why wasn't I good enough? Why was I such a pathetic failure? What was wrong with me?!

Since then, I've had the benefit of perspective. I realize now that handwriting really doesn't matter, and no one in the real world gives a hoot how legibly you write. Incidentally, my handwriting did improve and has since been termed "girly" and even "cute" on occasion, so I don't feel so bad about it. I realize that setting those standards of perfection so early, with no plan for what I'd do when I inevitably fell short (as all humans do), set me up for sadness and heartbreak. But perspective, however logical and helpful it might be, hasn't changed my heart or my desire for perfection, even if it can in some situations be unattainable and unrealistic.

Fast forward 18 years to our failed IVF cycle and follow-up appointment with Dr. Hammoud. Despite the fact that I'm an adult now, and have since fallen short of perfection many times, those same feelings and cries I felt on the day I got my first non-A resurfaced just as strongly when he informed us that our embryos had actually been graded a III (with I being the best and IV being the worst possible). I guess Mr. Embryologist (picture that guy from the 80's Matchbox Car commercials who sounded like an auctioneer) omitted that little detail in his mile-a-minute phone call. So I sat there, trying not to but unable to help it, obsessing over the fact that our embryos were only a III.

Again, I couldn't help but ask myself while stifling the urge to cry--How did his happen? Why didn't we have normal, neat, non-fragmented, correctly-growing embryos like other couples? Isn't a woman my age supposed to get pregnant easily? Why aren't we good enough to be parents? Why are we failures? What is wrong with us? Of course, it doesn't help that we often get asked his very same thing by everyone from family members to mere acquaintances--so you guys don't have kids yet, huh? Well what's wrong with you? Plus, by the end of the appointment, it became clear that there really aren't any answers for us. We don't know what's wrong with us, or if there's anything wrong at all.

Infertility is just so hard. I want to be happy, positive, hopeful, and faithful. I know that's what I'm supposed to do, and what everyone wants me to do. But it is just so hard.

The WTF Appointment...

2009-06-30T14:56:00.008-06:00

...aka "Speculation about What Went Wrong". Yesterday we had our follow-up appointment post-IVF failure, colloquially known in the IF community as the "WTF Appointment", because you go in wanting to scream "What went wrong?! Why didn't this work? How could this have gone better? and Where do we go from here?"

To his credit, Dr. Hammoud was very nice, understanding, compassionate, and took the time to answer each and every question I (ok, we, but mostly me) had prepared. When it all came down to it, he said there are things we know and things we just don't. We do know that I respond to stims (albeit slowly this time), produce normal eggs, those eggs can get fertilized, and embryos begin to grow. We don't know why they stopped growing or if their arrest was due to undiagnosed egg quality issues, or genetic/chromosomal problem, or just plain bad luck. There may be something wrong with us, or we just might have fallen into the 40% of couples for whom 1 round of IVF doesn't work and who need another cycle.

Things we know: I'm young. I'm healthy and don't have problems (until proven otherwise). Brian's healthy. Brian's sperm is subpar, but there is no reason for it. All our tests, hormonal and otherwise, have been normal with the exception of the SA and my laparoscopy. I didn't respond to stims the way they expected. I stimmed for a relatively long amount of time. Our fertilization rate was just okay. Our embryo quality sucked. I'm not pregnant.

Things we just don't know: whether a higher dose of stims would have helped or would've caused OHSS or wouldn't have had any effect on embryo quality, and whether we have more serious problems that just haven't been uncovered yet (like poor ovarian reserve, chromosomal/genetic abnormalities, etc.)

I wanted to ask right away for his opinion on my egg quality. If my eggs are junk, I'd rather know now and not waste any more time and money on fertility treatments. He said that as far as he knows, and from reviewing everything, my eggs are normal and healthy. He offered to test my FSH, since for some reason that was never done in the battery of tests, but he said it was probably a waste of time given my age and response. Also, surprisingly, he said that even though I stimmed for a long time, the 10 eggs retrieved actually surpassed the clinic average of 8-9. I had been upset, thinking that normal would be in the 15-20 range, but I guess this clinic is more conservative and likes to see fewer (but better quality) eggs resulting from lower doses of stims and triggering when E2 reaches 1500 but no higher than 2500. He said the doctors in the clinic were split as to opinions on whether stimming for longer (like my 14 days) results in better quality, more mature eggs or poorer quality.

Next I asked him what his plan and protocol would be if we were to do to this again. He explained (again) that stimulation is really a sliding scale, where on one end it's poor/insufficient response and on the other end it's OHSS, and the ideal is to get you on the correct dose of stims at the start (rather than adjusting up and down) to get your follicle count right in the middle. I again reiterated that I essentially don't care what their stupid clinic average egg retrieval is, because if we know we're going to lose some eggs due to immaturity, or lose embryos due to a lack of fertilization and/or growth, as is common with any IVF cycle, we better have a whole lot more to begin with! So I won't be doing this again unless we were aiming for 15-20 eggs and willing to push ourselves closer to the OHSS (hyperstimulation) end of the spectrum. He said he'd probably up my dose of Follistim to 150-200 and begin monitoring a bit earlier to see where we are, but we'd keep the Lupron and Repronex the same.

Next I asked whether poor embryo quality could have been the result of some genetic or chromosomal problem, for which we should have more tests and/or karyotyping. He shot me down, saying that while one round of IVF is much like a huge experiment wherein they can learn a lot about our bodies, one failure isn't reason enough to suspect that our problem is any more serious than just bad luck. However, he did compliment how "well read" I was on all of this. As if I'd shoot myself up with crazy juice for weeks on end and not know anything about it?!

Next I asked whether baby aspirin, DHEA, Estrace patches, or an ultrasound-guided transfer would've changed the outcome. As far these go, the clinic doesn't do any of these because their pregnancy and live birth rates are #13 nationally without them, and there haven't been any definitive studies showing the benefits of any of these, so in his opinion there's no evidence to suggest any of these help at all. He said maybe, if we'd had absolutely perfect embryos and still failed, that might be a reason to move to an ultrasound-guided transfer or may be a reason to suspect I need estrogen or additional progesterone supplementation to prevent miscarriage and assist implantation. But with my superthick lining, excellent progesterone levels, and our generally crappy embryos, he doesn't think any of these would've made one bit of difference.

As we were wrapping up, he said again how puzzling our case seemed to be. He said it's rare to have two healthy, young individuals with subpar (but not entirely wretched) sperm being the only cognizable fertility issue undergo IVF with ICSI in which it took forever to stim and we end up with crappy embryos transferred on day 3. With the way I responded to Clomid and my slightly polycystic-looking ovaries, he thought for sure my ovaries would go freaking nuts on Follistim and I'd be nearly overstimulated in no time....yet it took 14 days to get 10 eggs (8 mature) and an E2 of 1,700. He thought that Brian's sperm, though challenged, would perfectly fertilize at least 6 or 7 of my 8 mature eggs (we got 5). And he expected our embryos to grow at an acceptable, non-fragmenting rate suitable for a day 5 transfer (instead, we transferred an 8-cell and 2 4-cells, all Grade III, on day 3 because all other ones had already died). He even asked our permission to take our file to all the other doctors in the clinic to discuss us. Awesome. Nothing better than being medical mysteries, right?

Most impressive of all, at least to me, was that he didn't for one second push us to jump back in again. He said he understood how hard this was for us physically, emotionally, financially, etc. and advised us to take time to grieve. Apparently, couples struggling with infertility have depression rates comparable to terminally ill cancer patients. Cheery, eh? He let us know of some scholarship fund to help pay for IVF costs (but we don't qualify), but said they generally advise against getting loans or going into debt to pay for procedures that might not even work. He said that although it's immensely disappointing, the failure of one cycle is no reason whatsoever to suspect that another cycle wouldn't work, or that we couldn't just get pregnant on our own.

In short, if we want to try this again, there's no reason to think that it wouldn't work. The only legitimate guess he had for why this failed was poor embryo quality, but we can't really know why the quality was poor (the long, low-dose stimulation may or may not have contributed). If we did this again, we'd start out on a higher dose aiming for more eggs, better fertilization, better overall embryo quality (blastocysts and little-to-no fragmentation) and a day 5 transfer. Other than that, it's a crapshoot and gamble we just happened to lose this time. He reminded us that the biggest blessing we have, fertility-wise, is my age, and that we have 10 years before he'd advise against delays. Hopefully we won't wait that long to figure out what our next step is, but until then...we're on a semi-permanent break.

An Ideal Weekend

2009-06-29T13:27:00.002-06:00

Have you ever had a really great weekend? One where you get the perfect mix of hard work and relaxation? Well, that's that I had.

On Saturday morning I got to sleep in...late. And it was fabulous. But when I woke up, I looked out at my yard, around my house, and my car, and just knew I couldn't be lazy. First up (before the heat killed any ambition): yard work. As a kid I always hated yard work. My mom was such a perfectionist, and she demanded that yard work begin promptly at 8 a.m. on Saturday mornings and strictly conformed to her standards. I realize that in most families, the father was the one who did all the lawn cutting and edging. But not in mine. In mine, my mom was the one ordering us out of the peaceful, cool comfort of our bedrooms each weekend morning. So pretty much I grew to hate anything to do with yard work--lawn cutting, weeding, etc.

But as an adult with my own house, I've come to realize the value in keeping up a yard. So Saturday morning I weeded our flower beds and got to work cutting the lawn while Brian edged. After a few short hours, we were finished and I had a fresh sunburn (oops). Next task: clean cars. I've had my car for 2 years now, and sadly, I'd never really deep cleaned it. Sure, I've cleaned any junk out of it and washed the outside. But I'd never vacuumed every last inch of it and scrubbed everything. So I took at least 3 hours painstakingly organizing, washing, scrubbing, and vacuuming my car until it was perfect.

By that time it was past 4, and you can imagine how awesome I looked and smelled. After some much needed showering, we headed to grab something to eat since we were both starving. Then it was errand time--dog food, car fresheners, and groceries from Whole Foods (more expensive but totally worth it). Then we headed to Home Depot to look at paint and find a lock for our storage unit, where we ran into our RE with his wife and twins. Boy was that awkward! Next was Wal-mart, Brian's most favorite place in the entire world, to find some Blu-Ray DVD player, laundry detergent, and dish soap. Before heading home to watch a movie, we grabbed gelato from Dolcetti's (stracciatella for me, pistachio for Brian).

In contrast, Sunday was a total chill day. The only significant work we did was cooking an amazing dinner from the groceries we bought on Saturday and using Brian's Father's Day grilling gifts. We had aged NY strip steaks on the grill, grilled veggie medley (potatoes, carrots, green peppers, red peppers, onions, and garlic), and grilled pineapple for dessert. It was so good--the kind of meal you keep eating even though you're full because you don't want to waste a single bite. After cleaning up (isn't that the worst part of eating at home?), we watched another movie before crashing early.

Later today we have our follow-up appointment with our RE and are planning another dinner on the grill. I know I still have other things I need to update, so stay tuned.

Long Time No Blog

2009-06-22T14:09:00.003-06:00

Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I've bothered to post anything. For a while, it was intentional. After our failed IVF, I just wasn't in the mood. Then work became so busy that it felt like there just weren't enough hours in the day.

We had a great Father's Day weekend. We spent Saturday at a family birthday party and then doing Father's Day for my dad, then spent Sunday doing Father's Day for Brian's dad. It's funny that as a kid, you don't think too much about Mother's and Father's Day. Sure, you get your parent a gift, you say I love you, etc. But it's not too much work. As an adult, I find these holidays more and more exhausting. It's probably due to a lot of things--my tendency to overdo everything, my inability to resist or say no, my overwhelming need to please, my control-freak nature, etc. In my family, I'm the oldest and the only one who is married, done with school, and has a career. So, naturally, I tend to take charge, plan, and pay for these holidays. Conversely, in Brian's family, we're the only couple without children. So for his siblings, Mother's and Father's Day is about them too...it's their day off to be honored and served by their children. But it's not that way for us, so I often feel more pressure to make Mother's and Father's Day nice for his parents since I'm the only one with no reason to be celebrating or taking a break for myself. So I find that I spend both weekends planning, cleaning, shopping, cooking, etc. to make the holidays perfect. Plus, it keeps me busy so I don't have to focus on the fact that we don't have kids and might not ever have any. But I crawled into bed last night and thought, wow, I really am so tired! Who says you have to have kids to be this exhausted?

When we first started "trying", I thought it would be silly to buy each other gifts for these holidays. After all, we didn't have kids yet, but surely they'd be coming soon. We could wait. The holidays weren't sad at all--they were just previews of what we could imminently expect to enjoy. Well, fast forward a few years, thousands of dollars, numerous failed treatments, and countless appointments, tests, and drugs later...those kids sure aren't coming any time soon. It's still painful to be left out of these holidays. But, at the same time, I don't want to be included out of pity, if that makes any sense. So this year, for the first time, we decided to celebrate it just a little bit at our house (after all, we're parents of our puppies, right?). So for Mother's Day Brian got me a pink leather business card holder from Tiffany (and it's beautiful!). Brian had been wanting a grill basket so we would have an easier time grilling veggies like potatoes, peppers, and asparagus, so I decided to pick one up at Williams-Sonoma. To go a long with it, I got him a new grilling cookbook by Bobby Flay (one of his favorites), and some chili-lime dry rub. Here's hoping the rain will stay away permanently so we can actually use all this stuff!

I still have so many different feelings and emotions over our failed IVF. Sometimes I think maybe I'm doing a really good job dealing with it all in that I haven't really freaked out or sobbed or anything like that. But other times I think maybe I'm just not really dealing with it all as I've had so much to keep me busy. I know that in situations like ours, it's hard for people to really know what to say. It's hard to know what to say when it's something you've never experienced yourself; plus, different people want to hear (or don't want to hear) different things. So I guess I have another post coming on all of that...but for now, I really need to get back to work.

As Expected

2009-06-05T13:30:00.004-06:00

The test this morning was negative. Although I knew it was coming, I'm still upset and somehow irrationally angry. I keep thinking maybe if I had been more outspoken earlier in the cycle, maybe things would have been different. I feel bad that so many kind, wonderful, encouraging people were praying for us and wishing us the best, and we let all of you down. Sorry.

I'm taking the weekend to sort through the mess.

Not Much To Say

2009-06-04T15:44:00.006-06:00

I know it's been a week since I've written anything. Last Thursday I went to dinner with my family where my parents told us they'd decided to put our dog Buck to sleep the next day. He was almost 15 years old and in bad shape (unable to eat, rest, stand up, etc.), but still...it was horrible. Lola and Bella's favorite thing to do at my parents' house is to find Buck and play with him. Spending the rest of the evening saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Even though I know I probably should have, I just couldn't bear to go with everyone to the vet. I have such horrible memories of that place because the last time I was there I was picking up Buddy's ashes. Their vet was the same vet we used when we boarded Buddy and he died. So I just didn't think I could maintain any sense of self-control if I had to go back there.

It was so sad going to my parents on Tuesday and having Lola and Bella spend a good fifteen minutes looking all over the house for Buck. He was such a good dog--so patient, peaceful, loving, faithful, and fun. He was the first childhood dog I really remember (even though we had a few others). I was 11 when we got him, and my youngest brother was just a baby (and now he's in high school). I remember he loved to hop up on our trampoline with us, and he'd let Parker just hang all over him without complaint. He'd follow us as we walked to church on Sundays, and he'd sit in front of the church doors for all 3 hours just waiting for us to come out.

So I've been a bit sad lately. I have my beta tomorrow morning, but I'm just not feeling it. Every test I've taken has been negative, so I'd say my hope is about 0.0000001%. It really would take a miracle to get a positive beta tomorrow. I know miracles are possible and they happen, but like I said, I'm just not feeling it.

Busying Myself

2009-05-28T13:43:00.004-06:00

Today marks 6 days post-transfer, or 6dp3dt. To keep myself from obsessing over every tiny cramp or twinge (especially since I found out my beta isn't until June 5, which may as well be a lifetime away), I've been trying to keep busy with little projects.

We've been trying to get our yard in shape for summer, including maintaining the beautiful rosebush and geraniums my parents surprised me with as an un-Mother's Day present. Before yesterday we hadn't yet assessed the condition of our sprinklers and turned them back on, and I knew the ones in the planters needed to be adjusted so as not to kill all our newly planted flowers. So right after work we decided to spend the rest of the evening outside.

After figuring out which sprinkler heads were fine and which needed to be replaced (the bulk of which may or may not have been caused by an unfortunate mishap with the lawn mower...dumb thing really got away from me for a minute), we headed over to Home Depot. To say we looked like white trash was really an understatement--Brian in ratty, wet shorts and a muddy T, me in a wet shirt revealing my non-coordinating brightly colored sports bra and hole-filled yoga capris--but, whatever, it's Home Depot. Hardly a fashion show.

We decided (and by we, I mean I read the directions and served as management) to install a drip system to one of the flower beds and changed out heads in the other planter. After soaking ourselves again trying to make sure everything was spraying the right direction, we were finally finished. To top it off, we grilled another yummy meal of brats (tomato basil chicken for me, insanely hot habanero for Bri), broccoli pasta (so good--just broccoli, pasta, garlic, and olive oil), and fruit. Even though it was dark by the time we were eating, it tasted so good.

There's really something so relaxing and fulfilling about working in the yard. Maybe it's because you see the results of your work so quickly--by this morning the buds on the new rosebush had opened up into big red, yellow, and pink blossoms. Maybe it's because I feel like it's something I can control--I can make it grow and flourish in ways that I can't control with my own body. I just think all the time about what my grandmother used to say--there's something wrong with someone who doesn't like baby animals and digging in the dirt. I agree.

Lucky Girl

2009-05-23T18:29:00.002-06:00

On top of feeling sad over our less-than-stellar odds for this cycle, I also have killer allergies that I think might have turned into a cold/flu (which is ironic seeing that I've been on an antibiotic immediately preceding the transfer) and woke up this morning unable to move my neck. So my mood has been a bit sour.

Fortunately, I have a thoughtful husband. I couldn't have imagined going through all of this without my partner and best friend. Yesterday he made sure I had my favorite tomato soup, tons of Kleenex, a prescription for Flonase so I might be able to breathe eventually, and a huge 4-lb. container of perfect strawberries. Today, without my asking, he brought home my favorite Cafe Rio salad for lunch, compliant with all my OCD needs (no tomatoes, no guacamole even though I like guacamole everywhere else, 1/4 portion meat). Finally, for dinner, he ordered me my favorite Chinese takeout: veggie lo-mein with extra broccoli and carrots, veggie egg rolls, and cream cheese wontons. Not exactly the healthiest, I know, but somehow in my head the extra veggies make up for the fried stuff.

It's only day 2 of bedrest, and I'm going out of my mind. Of course, on a morning I could sleep as late as I wanted, I woke up at 7:30 unable to fall back asleep. I've watched stupid TV, a movie, read a book, read blogs, and am now bored stiff. How am I going to make it the entire weekend?

On the bright side, the weather's been so nice that I've been lounging on the back patio quite a bit. It being Memorial Day weekend, I've already worked up some menus of yummy grilled foods and fresh produce to either cook up myself or direct Brian from a lounge chair. He, of course, has been totally obliging. Here's hoping I can keep myself entertained for a few more days!

Transfer Day

2009-05-22T12:47:00.003-06:00

I'm still in a Valium-induced haze, so bear with me. This morning we went in to transfer what we thought were the best 2 of our 5 embryos. Wrong.

Dr. Peterson was in charge, and I really appreciated his experience and honesty. He explained that they weren't doing as well as they were yesterday. In fact, two stopped dividing altogether and weren't worth transferring or freezing. Of the remaining 3, 1 was doing pretty good, and the other 2 were just so-so. He told me if I were his daughter, he'd tell me to transfer all 3. And even then, our odds have gone from 60% down to anywhere from 15-30%, but he'd put them right around 20%. Awesome.

So we decided to transfer all 3--one 8-cell and two 6-cell. I asked him what he thought the reasons for such poor quality were, and he speculated that all my eggs were slightly immature. He guessed that this was probably because I'd been on too low a dose of stims for too long, which also would explain why the ultrasounds showed far more follicles than 10. He said that's just the risk of ovaries like mine--if you're too liberal with the medications, women like me produce far too many eggs, get OHSS, and get really sick. And because it was our first cycle, they just had no idea how I'd respond to the meds. He said that next time, if this didn't work and we wanted to do it again, they'd probably start me out on a higher dose of possibly different stims, then begin monitoring me earlier and every day.

Honestly, I just don't know what to think. Part of me feels like we just poured $15,000 down the drain. Another part of me feels like there's still a chance and to not give up hope. This is just so beyond frustrating and unfair. But I'm trying to think positively (I really am). I guess I just need to hope and pray for a miracle, but prepare for reality.

Fertilization Report

2009-05-21T09:49:00.003-06:00

Finally got a call from the embryologist this morning, who seemed determined to speak at 100 mph (and this from me, who notoriously speaks too quickly) and end the conversation in under 30 seconds.

Short Version:
10 eggs retrieved
8 eggs mature/ICSI'd
5 eggs fertilized normally
2 embryos looking better than the other 3

So 3dt planned for tomorrow morning at 9:45.

Slightly Longer Version:
I already knew there were 10 eggs. I'm bummed that only 8 were mature, but whatever. Apparently all 8 fertilized, but only 5 were normal (the other 3 were called mono-something, which I would've caught if he weren't plowing through the information at light speed).

He said they already knew which 2 were looking the best, so he scheduled a day 3 transfer. I don't know whether this is good news, or if he was just sugarcoating the fact that he's worried about their viability and doesn't think they'll last in an incubator until Sunday. He did say that we'd discuss freezing the other 3 tomorrow, which is heartening. I'd feel so much better about everything if I knew we had something in the freezer to get us started if there has to be a next time.

Then, that was it. He hung up before I could ask about each embryo's stage of cellular development, whether there was fragmenting, etc. I guess I'll have to find out tomorrow.

So I guess I'm getting my em-babies back tomorrow, and for the first time can call myself technically pregnant. Also good news? Since it's a holiday weekend, I only have to take tomorrow off work.

Progesterone in Oil

2009-05-20T23:04:00.005-06:00

If you were wondering, the PIO shots suck. Seriously, they're crappy, and I've only had two. They're completely different from what I now regard as the "cupcake" stim shots, and a pain because I haven't figured out how to give them to myself yet. Plus, the needle is bigger and they hurt. And, again, I'm growing some attractive bruises.

Still, I'm happy I picked shots rather than Crinone or other progesterone suppositories. While I realize clinics offer these as an alternative to and break from the weeks of shots, there's something more important I needed a break from (and stop reading now if TMI makes you uncomfortable)--things shoved up my lady bits. Really, now, enough is enough.

I should get the fertilization report from the embryologist tomorrow morning. Forty-eight hours sure has felt like a long time to know if we're even going to advance to the next stage. Still bugged about only 10 eggs.

Retrieval

2009-05-19T22:23:00.009-06:00

Today was retrieval day. For the most part, it went fine. I had one of my favorite nurses, Heidi, but she had trouble getting the IV in my right hand (seriously I wanted to scream). Finally it went in easily in my left, and we were off. Dr. Peterson, the department's chair and founder, was doing the retrieval, with the assistance of Dr. Gurtcheff, the doctor I really liked from one of my ultrasounds.

The clinic does retrievals a little differently from most--it's just conscious sedation with Fentanyl and Versed, rather than full on anesthesia. So Brian got to sit it a little chair right by me the whole time, which was nice. I remember being really awake and aware, and even telling them at one point that what they were doing was hurting, so the nurse gave me an extra kicker of something and I was out.

I remember Brian having to leave to go do his sample, and that's when they told us...they got 10 eggs. 10! I was devastated and started crying immediately. What happened to the 20-30 they were seeing on the ultrasound? How could there be just 10?

Brian said he got to watch them on the ultrasound the whole time, and he said it looked like they got everything except for some that looked much smaller than the rest. But still, just 10? I know Dr. Hammoud told us in our initial consult, and has repeated all along, that 10 is the goal and is ideal. But should I worry that they just got 10 good-looking ones and called it a day? I mean, I know I should be grateful for what we have. I know there are some who go through this and only get 4 or 5. I guess I'd just thought all along that we'd get 20+ since that's what the ultrasounds had always shown. I wonder what happened. Of course, Brian thinks I'm being ridiculous. He told me I sound like someone who got a 94% on a test and is complaining that it's not 100% plus extra credit. "An 'A' is an 'A'! You're being too much of a perfectionist," he said. But still. Only 10?

I've been kind of teary on and off just worrying that 10 won't be enough. Other than that, I've felt fine--no pain, no blood, and totally coherent. I'm anxious to hear from the embryologist, hoping for the best, and preparing for the worst. 10? WTF?!

Finally

2009-05-17T12:26:00.007-06:00

Yep, we went in at the butt crack of dawn again this morning to check things out. The follicles looked great, so we knew my E2 level (which was finally over 1,000 yesterday) would determine whether we would trigger tonight or tomorrow night.

I just got the call that my E2 level is 1,482 or 1,582 (don't remember), which is right on the borderline. So we are both stimming and triggering tonight, figuring that by retrieval on Tuesday the E2 will be right around 2,000, where it needs to be.

Flippin' finally! Tonight's injections will mark 14 days of stimming!

Women Make Better Doctors

2009-05-15T17:03:00.002-06:00

Better down-there-doctors, anyhow. I didn't used to think so. My first ob/gyn was a woman, but the only reason I went to her instead of shopping around was because my mom did and guess who made my first ever appointment? But then she (ob/gyn) changed her practice and no longer does obstetrics, so I didn't have a doctor. Soon after we started with our RE, who's a man, so I worried that having a man would be weird. It's not, especially since he's this smily Lebanese guy who couldn't be nicer. So I thought male ob/gyn/RE's were equal to women.

That was until yesterday, when I went in for an ultrasound. The doctors at my clinic do rotations for ultrasounds, so you don't always get your RE for those. While this bugged me at first, because I wanted my doctor that I've paid for, I think that was really a result of an ultrasound by a horrible, rude, insensitive, generally pissy doctor who did an ultrasound for me last summer...who was, incidentally, a woman. But having met others doctors in the practice who were perfectly friendly and competent, I stopped worrying. I also stopped worrying because even if another doctor does the ultrasound, he/she still reports everything to your doctor, then your doctor makes decisions and calls you.

Yesterday I was told Dr. Shawn Gurtcheff was doing the ultrasound, so I just assumed it was another man. So imagine my surprise when this darling, friendly, petite woman walks in who couldn't be more than 30. She introduces herself as Shawn, which I thought was nice. What was more surprising, though, was how she handled something as simple as an ultrasound. I go to "assume the position", and she tells me to wait because there's no need to lie there uncomfortably until the last second and everything's ready. Bonus point #1. She asks me how I'm doing, and I tell her. But instead of leaving it at pleasantries, she goes on to explain that she knows how sick of this and stressed I probably am, but don't worry because from what she's seen in my chart I am totally healthy and normal. Bonus points #2, #3, and #4 for reading my chart before seeing me, actually listening to my response to her question, and making me feel better. Then she asks if I'd prefer to put the ultrasound wand in or if it's okay if she does it. Bonus point #5 because I didn't even know that was an option, as everyone who's ever done it before hasn't hesitated to shove it right in with a measly "Ok, slight pressure here." Then during the ultrasound she gives me a heads up when she anticipates something she's about to do will cause discomfort, and tells me to let her know if it gets too uncomfortable and I need a break. Again, all the ones I've had before have only elicited an "Oh, sorry" when they notice I'm wincing due to the fact that THEY ARE DIGGING AROUND IN MY INNARDS! Bonus point #6.

So, yeah, I really liked her. If I didn't like my current RE, I'd definitely try to switch to her. I don't mean to sound all sexist in this post, but really, I think female RE's just have an advantage when it comes to connecting with patients. She probably thought to be so careful and sensitive to me because she knows what it's like to have her insides poked and prodded. Unfortunately, guys, unless you're the pregnant man (and does he/she count as a man anyway?), you just don't.

Still Waiting

2009-05-15T14:26:00.004-06:00

Things are still growing, still slowly. Today it looks like everything has grown an additional 2mm, and my E2 is 854. Still too low (seriously, what is my problem?! I've never heard of someone's estradiol being too low! I've heard of too few follicles, too small follicles, OHSS, but never this. Please tell me I'm not a freak!) But Dr. Hammoud said that the follicles look great and as long as the E2 continues to rise, rather than stagnate or decrease, there's no reason to worry and we'll get to retrieval soon enough.

So I get to return for another ultrasound and blood draw at 8:15 a.m. on a Saturday, my one beloved day a week to sleep in. I also get to up my dose to 150 iu of Follistim (though, to be honest, I've become a bit of an armchair quarterback with my dosage. Ironically, nothing irritates me more than clients who try to tell me what the law is. But I've been giving myself just a tiny bit extra Follistim because I'm convinced our doctor is playing this too safe. I know, I know, it's probably stupid.) I'm all out of everything but Lupron, too, so we've been buying new vials day by day. Today we broke down and bought a 300 iu cartridge for the Follistim pen, but luckily my favorite nurse donated a vial of Repronex to us so at least something was free!

My belly makes me look like a victim of spousal abuse--a rainbow of bruises. My left arm, where they do all the blood draws, looks like a war zone. Awesome. I'm tired.

Slowly Getting There

2009-05-14T13:59:00.003-06:00

At today's monitoring appointment, it looks like things are improving...slowly.

I now have 5-6 follicles right at or greater than 16mm, 13 more in the 12-14mm range, 8 in the 10-12mm range, and 10 more under 10mm.

Unfortunately, my E2 levels are still lower than they'd like, so I'll be increasing my Follistim by 25 iu tonight and going back for another ultrasound and blood draw tomorrow. Oh please let my stupid estradiol get up there!

More of the Same?

2009-05-13T13:14:00.004-06:00

Today's monitoring appointment started out differently from my last one, but that's just because some girl in the waiting room decided to rush back with her husband when they called my name. I could've sworn I saw my name on the chart the nurse calling "Hillary" said, but whatever. Not wanting some other girl getting MY ultrasound, I had to get the receptionist to page the nurses and have them check to see they had the right person. Obviously, they didn't, so Little Miss Eager (whose name wasn't even Hillary, by the way, it was Lori or something like that!) got kicked back to the waiting room.

Apparently my follicles look pretty much the same today (after 9 days of stimming), give or take a millimeter, except now I have a few more in the 12-13 range. Dr. Hammoud seems concerned now with putting me at risk for OHSS because all the follicles are growing at the same rate. I thought that was a good thing, but apparently he'd prefer to have 5 or 6 separate themselves from the rest. I guess he's worried that with everything growing at the same rate, I'm going to have a bumload of big follicles. Again, I thought that was a good thing. I've tried to explain what while I realize quality is better than quantity, and I realize the risks of hyperstimulation, as of right now this is pretty much it for us. We don't have buckets of money to start from scratch tons of times. We really need to not only have enough follicles to get us through this cycle, but we need embryos to freeze in case this cycle doesn't work or for future cycles. So while he keeps reiterating his preference to just retrieve 10 good follicles, I'd really prefer 20+. But, ok, I'm not a doctor. So I'll do as I'm told.

My lining is pretty much the same--15.5 mm, and my estradiol level today was 549. So I know I have a bit to go, since it needs to be up over 1,000. So for now I'll keep on the same doses, only I have to come in every day for ultrasounds and blood draws. Why does it seem like this is taking forever?

Dear Ovaries,

2009-05-11T12:59:00.006-06:00

It has come to my attention that some of your follicles are not performing as well as the rest. Obviously, this is unacceptable, especially given the time, effort, and money invested in all of them. If you're thinking there are plenty of overachievers or that the lazy ones aren't needed, you're wrong. I expect every last one to comply with their contractual obligations. Thirty-two is much better than twelve. So I suggest everyone, slackers included, figure it out. Quickly.

Sincerely,

The Management

For those of you who like stats, here they are after 7 days of stimming (day 8's injections won't happen until tonight):

Right Ovary: 20, 15, 14, 14, 12, 12 and 10 more <10; volume 22
Left Ovary: 16, 16, 15, 11, 11, 10, and 10 more <10; volume 39
Lining: 15 mm, looking good

Rather than up my dose, which I'd prefer, our doctor has decided to keep it low and slow (my favorite!). So I'll keep up my 5 iu Lupron, 100 iu Follistim, and 75 iu Repronex until Wednesday morning's monitoring appointment. Here's hoping the slackers catch up before then!

Stims Day #6

2009-05-09T20:58:00.001-06:00

You know how I spent the last post celebrating my lack of bruising? Just kidding.

Today my stomach looks like I decided to draw polka dots all over it with every color marker in the rainbow--pink injection sites, red welts, old yellow and green bruises, and new purple and blue bruises.

The good news? They still don't hurt. But I'm definitely looking forward to Monday.

Stims Day #4

2009-05-07T23:13:00.004-06:00

Today was the first day I did all 3 injections all by myself...like a big girl.

Fortunately, they didn't hurt like yesterday and I didn't bleed. I've been surprised throughout this whole process with how okay it all is. I used to be absolutely terrified of shots. The thought of one would make me shake, and I swore that by the time I had a baby they'd better figure out how to administer an epidural orally.* But it really is no big deal, and I'm perfectly happy to do it myself. My one piece of advice would be to just pick a place, suck it up, and go full force. Don't hesitate or wimp out, or you'll end up poking yourself, scratching yourself, and dulling the needle. Just do it, as Nike would say. It's kind of weird, but I almost enjoy it. Like my friend Murgdan observed, when you're trying to get pregnant the old-fashioned way, there's lots to do. There's counting, calculating, temperature-taking, charting, analyzing, planning...and of course the sex. Lots of that. With IVF, a football team's worth of people have seen your business and discussed the intimate details of both your bodies and your sex life, and yet the actual conception is really rather passive. It's all in the hands of others. So I can't help but feel that the few minutes I spend each day injecting myself is my chance to be a more active participant in conceiving our baby. It's my meager contribution.

My injections sites all over my stomach are getting a bit sore and red. With Lupron I never noticed, but with the stims I can definitely pick out areas I've previously injected. I just have the one bruise from yesterday, and from what I hear, that's pretty impressive.

As for side effects, I really haven't noticed much. After kicking caffeine, via my occasional Diet Coke, from my diet I had some killer withdrawal headaches (by the way, they were bad enough that I vomited...as such I've decided caffeine is the devil and/or I must have had a serious addiction; either way, not good). All I've read about the past few months when researching IVF is the horrible side effects from all the drugs and hormones. I guess I'm just lucky--lucky to be on a lower dose of the drugs and lucky that they haven't made me feel much of anything. Let's just hope they're still working!

*(Truthfully, at this point, I'd endure 50 months of morning sickness and 50 hours of natural labor/ childbirth if it meant I got a baby in the end).

Stims Day #3

2009-05-06T19:40:00.002-06:00

Things are still going fine with the injections. However, today I made myself bleed. For the past few weeks I've been really careful and haven't ever had an injection site bleed. So, really, I guess it was inevitable.

I started with Lupron, which actually hurt this time (I usually barely feel it), and the site bled.

Then I injected Follistim, and it really hurt. When I withdrew the needle, I had big, dark drops of blood trailing down my stomach. Great.

So by then I was a little gun shy, so I made Brian do the Repronex. I'm happy to say he manned up, injected it right away, it didn't hurt, and there wasn't any blood.

What do I have to show for all this? Two giant red welts and a nice big purple bruise. Awesome. This better freaking work!

Stims Day #1

2009-05-04T18:25:00.003-06:00

Today I began stims, and injected the following:

1--Reduce Lupron from 10 units to 5

2--Follistim 100 units

3--Repronex 1mL fluid into 1 bottle powder

So far, so good. They weren't painful and didn't do much more than sting a little bit. We'll see if I'm feeling so sunny at the end of the week. My first monitoring appointment is next Monday morning.

Hissy Fit

2009-05-03T19:44:00.006-06:00

So, I think the hormones might be getting to me. Other than a few headaches, I thought I'd been symptom-free. But yesterday I spent 2 hours pitching what amounted to a large scale adult temper tantrum...in public. In my defense, let me paint a little picture for you:

I've complained several times on my blog about how much infertility has cost us. If you're wondering...a CRAPLOAD! I haven't yet posted our entire history, but to give you an idea: 3 IUI's at $300 each, 2 ultrasounds at $200 each, tons of blood tests and a testicular ultrasound at about $2,000, surgery to remove giant ovarian cyst $5,400, IVF consultation $395, IVF/ICSI cycle fee $9,400, and finally IVF meds. The medications were the last thing we needed to pay for. On the upside, I got our insurance to cover some of them...and by cover, I mean count them toward our newly increased deductible. We still had to pay. But the clinic told us to expect to pay anywhere from $1,800-$3,500 for the meds. Ouch. But finally (finally!) some things are going right for us. I had my suppression check/ultrasound last Wednesday, where they check to see that the Lupron I've been injecting for 2 weeks has done its job by suppressing all my body's hormones such that there are no mature egg follicles and my uterine lining is thin. Everything looked great and we are good to begin stims (crazy stimulation injections) tomorrow. Seriously, I could've cried when Dr. Hataska said, "Everything is perfect. Your uterus is the perfect shape and everything about it looks perfect." If it wouldn't have been weird, I would've had him repeat it into some sort of recording device.

So because I'm young (in the IF world, 25 is considered quite young...in the LDS world, I'm practically menopausal) and have healthy, functioning ovaries, we knew our IVF meds would be on the lower end. Somehow we lucked out and only had to pay $1,500. So, you can imagine how excited I was to be saving $2,000, since in preparation for this whole thing we decided to count on paying the maximum amounts for everything. So our nurse ordered the medications, since they have to come from a specialty pharmacy, and they were supposed to be overnighted to me and arriving on Friday. Well, Friday came and went with no package. After my WTF call to the pharmacy, they say they don't know what's going on. After my WTF call to FedEx (oh how I hate them...we have a bad history), they say they don't know what happened, but they promise that if I'm willing to trek out to their facility in BFE, I can have my package on Saturday.

So yesterday I drive out there, irritated that I'm spending my precious Saturday on something that should've been done the day before, but whatever. I want my stuff. So I go out there and am greeted by what must have been an extra from Braveheart. Scotty McScottish tries to find my package, but idiot that I am, I forgot to bring my tracking number. So I get out my phone to call Brian at home to look it up for me. Phone's dead. Awesome. So Scotty McScottish gives me FedEx's phone to call him, only Brian doesn't answer. Brian rarely answers the phone even when he knows who's calling, so there was no chance he'd pick up the phone for some strange number. GRRRRR!! So I have to call FedEx's 1-800 number to get the tracking number. So with the tracking number, Scotty tries to find the package...nada. He says he can't even tell if it has arrived at their facility. Great. Scotty goes off to check one area where it might be.

Fast forward 15 minutes later, Scotty says it's not in the place he looked, so if it's there at all, it's probably in one of two trucks, each carrying 10-15,000 parcels and each yet to be unloaded. Fighting the urge to cry, I tell Scotty that's just plain unacceptable, and I'm going to need to speak with his manager.

Fast forward 30 minutes later, during which time I've sat on an uncomfortable chair people-watching all the customers coming into FedEx and listening to 2 female FedEx workers' stories about their Friday night escapades. Oh joy. Finally FedEx manager Cory Gingerson (not really his name, obviously, but he was a carbon copy of Heath Ledger's redheaded sidekick on A Knight's Tale. Remember that?) comes to talk to me. He says he can't even tell if the package is there, and when I ask why it wasn't delivered Friday, he quite honestly tells me there is no reason. Usually if something happens like a truck or airplane problem, the details will be entered into their system. There are no such details for my package, meaning someone forgot it and/or lost it...until Saturday morning, when they tried to fly it to Salt Lake. And from that point, who knows if it ever made it to their facility from the airport?

Ginger leaves to go try one more place to look, while I am fuming. So I find an outlet to charge my phone and call FedEx's claims department. I am livid. I get connected to some bored-sounding teenage boy, who cannot for the life of him grasp my situation. I explain to him what happened, but more importantly that if I don't have my package RIGHT F-ING NOW I am going to sue FedEx not only for the value of the package, but for the money I've spent on this cycle that will have to be canceled if I don't have my package RIGHT F-ING NOW. After my futile explanation, it becomes apparent that bored teenager is an idiot. So I tell him I'm going to need to speak to someone who has at least graduated from high school, since obviously he's far too stupid to understand. I finish up filing my claim but am still royally pissed off.

Fast forward an additional half hour I've spent waiting for Manager Ginger to at least tell me if my package will be delivered to me on Monday or if I'm going to have to waste even more of my time trekking back out to BFE to retrieve it. He tells me it's not in the places he looked, so it's probably on the trucks, which won't be unloaded until Monday. Cue rage and another fit. I scare him off to concoct a satisfactory solution. After an eternity, he finally comes back with 3 workers and...tada...my package! I could've kissed him right there! I guess my fit throwing was sufficient to force them to start unloading the trucks themselves. Fortunately, my package was near the back and easy to find.

So, bottom line, I got my package. I'll post a picture of it in all its medical glory later.

P.S. Should I sent a note to FedEx explaining that I'm not a psychotic drug addict, just a girl who really really really needed her package because she really really really wants (sometimes irrationally so) a baby?

P.P.S. Did I get my overnight shipping fees refunded and then some? You betcha!

Fun with Heroin

2009-04-23T12:12:00.007-06:00

Yep, that's the new name we've given to the Lupron injections I have daily. Given my history of skittishness when it comes to needles, you'd think I'd be having a really hard time with all these IVF injections. When we went to our consult and class last week with the IVF nurses at our clinic, I watched Brian nearly keel over when they described all of the injections I'll be having over the next several weeks.

When we had a moment alone, I asked him what on earth his problem was. His response: "I really, really don't like how many shots you have to have." My reply: "Yeah. I know. Be glad it's not you...and I'm probably going to need some new shoes."

So we started last Sunday with the first and by all accounts the easiest of injections, Lupron. After no fewer than 5 phone calls to our ridiculous insurance company, calling no fewer than 10 pharmacies, and seriously considering death threats as a valid form of communication with said insurance company and pharmacies, I was able to convince our crap insurance to cover the medication. That's great, you say? Not so fast. We have a monstrosity of a deductible (eight freaking thousand dollars, which btw does NOT include the $9,400 we paid for our IVF cycle!). So I still had to shell out a pretty penny for the drugs...but at least it's chipping away, ever so slowly, at the monstrosity.

When it was time to do the injections, I figured I'd just have Brian do it for me. After all, he's my tough, Army hero, can-do-anything-including-administering-own-IV husband. So I thought, no problem. Wrong. HE WAS A COMPLETE WIMP! Seriously, we played our very own game of chicken with the syringe. You know, the "You do it. No you do it. No you do it." Back and forth. I think, and this may be TMI, that anyone overhearing our conversation would've thought we were involved in much dirtier deeds than an injection:

"Ugh, hurry up! Just do it already! You're not going to hurt me! Just put it right in there! Do it fast; it's supposed to hurt less if you just stick it in quickly." Yeah, I know, kind of gross.

Apparently Brian was so worried about hurting me that he honestly looked like he was going to vomit. So last night, I took the stupid syringe out of his trembling hands and just jabbed it right in. I barely felt a thing. And that's why I've become the rock star of self-administered injections.

Now I just have to figure out how to either a) make Brian man up when it's time for the PIO injections in a few weeks or b) get really good at contortionism. Because PIO shots have to be administered in the "upper rear thigh muscle", which is really just a euphemism for the butt.

So far I have been extremely fortunate to have absolutely no side effects from the medicine. I've read horror stories of women experiencing everything from insane migraines, extreme and uncontrollable mood swings, fatigue, hot flashes, nausea, cramping, etc. from Lupron. Luckily the only thing I've noticed is that right after the shot, the injection site (on alternating sides of my belly button) itches. Let's hope I have similar luck with the stims I start in a few weeks, which I've heard turn nice, normal females into emotional, raving, crazier-than-$@#% lunatics. Oh yay.

P.S. The last pre-cycle thing on our list was to go do Brian's freeze & store. Basically he had to provide the lab with a sample of his boys so in case something goes wrong on retrieval/fertilization day they have a back up. As if the whole thing isn't awkward enough, guess what kind of music was playing on the radio piped into the, ahem, procedure rooms? GOSPEL MUSIC. Yeah, that really sets an awesome mood.

Testing, testing

2009-04-16T17:20:00.003-06:00

Woohoo! Today I found out that I'm not a carrier of Cystic Fibrosis, am immune to Rubella, have normal TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) levels, have O+ blood (which I already knew, but it means no Rh factor issues), and had a textbook perfect trial transfer where our doctor simulated transferring embryos through a catheter into my uterus. Oh, and since I'm "young and healthy" with "ovaries that function just fine"*, our IVF meds might be on the cheaper end, meaning we could save $1,500!

Finally some good news on the baby-making front!

*IVF Nurse Jenni's words, not mine. I don't normally brag about my ovaries.

Happy Easter!

2009-04-12T13:30:00.001-06:00

Love,

The Irreverent McCormacks

Here We Go

2009-04-10T17:25:00.002-06:00

After a crazy amount of deliberation, prayer, and worry, we have finally worked out a way to proceed with IVF/ICSI this month. Our Lupron class (where they teach us how to mix up and administer the injections I have to have every day for the next 6 weeks or so) is Thursday, and next Sunday we begin the injections.

This has a been a long time coming, and I'm so excited! Wish us luck and please pray for us!

Dear 70 Degrees

2009-04-08T13:45:00.003-06:00

Dear 70 Degrees,

Thanks so much for showing up yesterday. It really meant a lot to me. I really love everything about you. Please know you're welcome to come any time, and for a longer stay. Really, there's no need to be so shy.

Love,

Your friend,

Hillary

P.S. Lola and Bella really love your work.

P.P.S. You can tell your ugly stepsister, 30 Degrees & Snowing, to get lost.

Clearing Things Up

2009-04-02T18:09:00.002-06:00

We've had a lot of questions and comments about our fertility situation lately, so I thought I'd clear a few things up. But first, please know that I realize that most people really do wish us the best and want to help. Having said that, we've definitely heard our fair share of negative remarks ranging from the merely insensitive to the rather rude. I know these types of comments have to be taken with a grain (or, ok, a massive boulder) of salt. But maybe, just maybe, our experience with infertility will help others struggling with it to be unafraid to articulate their feelings, and will educate others about how to support friends and family members dealing with it.

So, without further ado:

1. Thanks so much for all the kind words and well wishes. They really do help sustain us and keep us going. This process is so hard, so emotional, and so mentally and physically taxing. It would be so much easier to give up. But encouragement and support of others helps us recommit to the process.

2. I appreciate at the very least the concern manifested by the loads of advice, both solicited and unsolicited, I've received about endometriosis and its treatment. I am very new to the game, and hopefully I won't be playing anymore. I realize that this is a lifelong ailment for many women, and hopefully not me. I haven't suffered for years, and I hope that my recent surgery prevents any future suffering.

3. Having said that, I realize that the surgeon-preferred treatment option when treating endometriosis surgically is to excise a cyst. See, my type of endometriosis isn't widespread tissue growths. It was a cyst, called an endometrioma, on my left ovary. So I know the best treatment would've been to cut it out like a cancerous tumor. But here's the thing: when you cut out a cyst, you inevitably take a good chunk of healthy, normal ovarian tissue and eggs with it. We are trying to have a baby. So our doctor recommended, and we definitely agreed, that cutting out potential baby-making supplies along with the cyst probably wasn't the wisest thing to do. Don't worry; we know the risks of just having the cyst drained and cauterized (it could come back). But that's why we're going to proceed with our treatments ASAP, so that nothing has a chance to grow back before I'm good and knocked up.

4. Thanks for the advice about your mom/sister/aunt/cousin/friend/acquaintance who had surgery to remove endometriosis and then got pregnant the next month. How wonderful for her! Unfortunately, our doctor does not expect the surgery to either help or hurt our chances for conception. Why, you ask? Because our fertility problems are male factor. My endometriosis was not affecting ovulation, wasn't blocking my tubes, and wasn't causing any sort of uterine defects. So, in all likelihood (and our doctor's extensive education and experience), the reason(s) why I've never been pregnant are not related to endometriosis or my body at all.

5. Thanks so much for the advice about how we should proceed with treatment. Lucky for us, we are in the hands of a great physician. Dr. Hammoud is a reproductive endocrinologist (RE). RE's are technically OB/GYN's who have extra education and training specializing in infertility. So basically they are super-OB/GYN's who actually know a lot more about pregnancy than just a regular OB/GYN. We really trust him to help us make the best possible decisions for our particular situation.

6. We love children. We haven't waited this long to have a baby because we don't want them, don't like them, don't like yours, are selfish, would rather have money and things, etc. Every decision we've made about procreation has been made carefully and prayerfully, which is more than can be said for a lot of couples. We haven't had the luxury or option to just think about having a baby (or not) without really discussing it and then end up accidentally pregnant. We are so happy for those of you who've been successful in making babies. It's such a privilege.

7. Having said that, please forgive us if we don't want to be inundated by children all the time. We don't have any, so lots of loud and hyper kids can be kind of overwhelming when you're used to a quiet, orderly home. And, quite frankly, spending tons of time at children's birthday parties and baby showers can be rather painful. So please forgive us if we don't always feel up to gatherings like that.

8. Please keep us in your prayers, and we'll do the same. Love you all!

Full Steam Ahead

2009-03-31T23:02:00.008-06:00

So today I had my follow up appointment. I expected him to just check out my incisions and tell me I'm healing nicely (which, by the way, I so am!). Well, that took all of 5 minutes. Then he said since I was there, we might as well get started on our in vitro stuff by sending me to the nurses to map out our schedule. Whoa! Of course, I'd told Brian I didn't need him to come with me since it was just a silly follow-up, but this always happens. Whenever I tell him not to come, something important happens. Incidentally, I also had more blood drawn. They wanted to make sure I'm not a carrier of cystic fibrosis, am immune to Rubella, have normal TSH (thyroid) levels, and know my blood type (even though I know it's O+)--I guess these are all standard before you start, and since our insurance deductible goes up to $8,000 tomorrow, I figured I'd better get it all done today.

I thought we were needing to wait until June or July, but apparently because I'm healing so well and in vitro is such a long (6+ weeks) process itself, we can start right after Easter! That's just a little more than 2 weeks away! Fortunately, the medication I had to be on for the surgery allows us to transition right into in vitro instead of waiting to do a cycle on birth control pills (which are wretched anyway). I've been all over the map about this thing, feeling-wise, that all of a sudden this feels really fast. I know it's silly, since our 5th anniversary is this summer, but I just feel like it's been so up and down that I've had no time to adjust.

We're not 100% sure we're doing it in April, but the potential is there. Starting the week after Easter would mean that the actual egg retrieval and transfer would be in May, meaning a February baby (or babies). I know, I know, I'm getting way ahead of myself. But it's sure crazy to think about!

**And yes, I know, I just ended a sentence with a preposition. Bad English major, bad, bad, bad.

I'm Alive

2009-03-29T14:49:00.007-06:00

Sorry if the picture is TMI, but I'm finally feeling normal after my laparoscopy and hysteroscopy 10 days ago, or as I like to call it, Satan's Surgery. Seriously, it was bad. Below is a play-by-play of what went on, so feel free to skip all the boring details.

When Brian and I went in for our IVF consult on February 24, we expected to immediately begin the six week IVF process. However, during the ultrasound, the tiny inconsequential cyst our doctor saw last summer had tripled in size. He worried it was endometriosis, and that such a large cyst could both interfere with IVF and cause problems (like bursting) if I got pregnant. So he recommended I have surgery to drain and cauterize the cyst (rather than cutting it out, which would inevitably involve cutting out healthy ovarian tissue and eggs along with the cyst) and removing any other endometriosis he could possibly find. Knowing that this would cost us an additional $5,400 on top of the $13,000 for IVF gave us pause, since that would wipe out a lot of our savings, but our insurance deductible will increase to $8,000 on April 1, so we figured it was better to do it now both for my health and our savings.

My surgery was scheduled for March 10. At my pre-op appointment the morning before, our doctor did another ultrasound and found the cyst had grown another half centimeter. So I felt even better about the decision to do the surgery now instead of waiting. I had my surgery at LDS Hospital, which was definitely not my first choice since IMC is about a million times nicer. Luckily, I didn't have to be there too early and when I got there they rushed me through since our doctor's earlier surgery had gone quicker than expected and he was waiting on me. I laughed when one of the residents prepping me for surgery commented that he wished everyone he saw was as healthy as I was. Funny, because now that I have endometriosis, no company will insure me (believe me, we tried, after finding about about our deductible increase--and I was declined for endometriosis and having taken Clomid, never mind the fact that I didn't actually NEED to take Clomid, but whatever). So I guess doctors think I'm really healthy, but insurance companies find me too risky to insure--especially since I've had surgery 3 times in my entire life, all outpatient, have no chronic health conditions, and generally do not take any medications, prescription or otherwise. But whatever.

The surgery was supposed to take an hour for the laparoscopy, and then another half hour for the hysteroscopy. Rather than put me through another procedure at a later date, our doctor figured that while he was already doing surgery, he could do a hysteroscopy to check out my uterus and make sure everything looked good for IVF and nothing was preventing me from getting pregnant. Unfortunately, it turned out I had way more endometriosis than he expected, and the surgery took almost 3 hours. I guess the big cyst was basically connecting lots of organs it shouldn't, so my ovary, tube, uterus, bladder, and large intesting were all stuck together in one spot by the cyst. But he was able to separate everything and take out 90% of it, except for some on my ureter--the tube connecting the kidney and bladder, because the tissue there was so delicate that he didn't want to risk any tearing or scarring. Brian said our doctor told him "No wonder she was in so much pain!" He also said the hysteroscopy when great and that my uterus looked textbook perfect (Phew! Finally some good news!)

When I woke up, I was really pretty alert. I felt a lot of pain in my left incision (I had 4 total--left side, belly button, right side, and bikini line) and really needed to pee but my mean nurse wouldn't let me and kept putting Fentanyl in my IV even though I kept telling her it was only making me sleepy and wasn't relieving any pain.

The rest of time I spent in the hospital was really painful until my post op nurse finally listened to me and gave me a shot of Demerol. Brian's parents had surprised us at the hospital and stayed with Brian while I was in surgery, but left once I got down to post-op. I didn't think I wanted anyone there, but I was really happy my mom came a bit later. Plus, getting me up and out of bed was quite an adventure since anything involving the usage of stomach muscles was excruciating. Lucky for me, I have a strong and considerate husband who basically carried me to the bathroom, cleaned up the blood leaking from my incisions, dressed me, lifted me into the car, carried me into the house, and put me in bed.

I felt pretty good the rest of Friday and Saturday, taking just a little bit of the Lortab prescribed for me. Sunday morning I woke up feeling more pain than usual, and the Lortabs just weren't cutting it. Usually I'm quite the lightweight when it comes to pills--just one Lortab makes me feel dizzy and out of it, not to mention pain-free, but I was taking 2 pills every 4 hours and getting only moderate relief. Plus I started getting these crazy sinus headaches that felt like soda was in my head--I could literally hear and feel bubbles everywhere--on my forehead, nose, temples, neck, etc. Weird. On Monday Brian had to go back to work, leaving me at home with the puppies. The pain was getting worse and my temperature was going up, so I kept trying to get ahold of my doctor to figure out what was wrong. I called at least 4-5 times, but always got kicked to the nurses' line voicemail. So frustrating. It was getting so bad that I couldn't cope, so I called Brian in tears in the middle of his work day. Of course he came home immediately, and my mom came over too. While Brian got on the phone raging at the scheduling nurse (the only one who would answer the phone), my mom got our family friend who happens to be a doctor and professor at the U where our RE works to call the clinic and get our doctor to call him. In less that 30 minutes, our doctor called and wanted me to come in right away for ultrasounds to figure out what was wrong.

After numerous ultrasounds, a round of bloodwork at LDS Hospital, and other exams, our doctor still couldn't really figure out what was wrong. There was fluid collection around the incisions, but that was relatively normal. My bloodwork was mostly normal except for an elevated white blood cell count, but that was no big deal. He was worried about my stomach being so distended (yep, stomach issues on top of everything else), so he prescribed me some medicine for that and Percocet. I was nervous because the only time I've ever had Percocet was a 1/2 pill I took for menstrual cramps that pretty much knocked me out and made me feel like I was on some sort of hallucinogen. But I took 1 Percocet and was finally able to sleep--no more headaches and no more pain.

I kept taking the Percocet on Tuesday and Wednesday, feeling so much better pain-wise. I was still experiencing stomach issues, but figured they were the least of my worries. I knew my dad was getting really antsy for me to get back to work, so I had Brian take me to work Thursday afternoon for a few hours. I still felt shaky and weird, having not eaten or been on my feet much in the past week. But it was nice to do something other than lay around since I was going stir-crazy at home! On Friday I decided I'd had enough of my stomach issues, which I think were caused by the combination of anesthesia and strong narcotics. So I decided to ditch the Percocet in favor of Ibuprofen and head back to work. I actually felt pretty good (if tired). Yesterday I felt even better, so much so that I even ventured to Target alone. I think my stomach issues may be nearing an end.

All in all, I know it was the right thing to do the surgery. But I'd forgotten how much I hate to be the invalid patient and how uncomfortable I am in that role. I get quickly frustrated with the slow recovery process, push myself to do too much too fast, and worry it will be forever before I feel "normal" again. I guess I really am my mother's daughter after all, despite all efforts to the contrary. Thanks to everyone who called to check on me, brought us meals, and helped out--my parents, sister, brothers, John & Lyn, Dan & Lisa, Cassie, my sweet visiting teaching companion Elaine, and most of all my beloved Brian. I couldn't have asked for a more loving, patient nurse. When someone you love sees you looking and feeling your absolute worst, but still cares for you so gently and tenderly, you cannot help but feel overwhelmed. I love you, Bri!

On the bright side, I feel better every day and essentially am back to normal--but not for long. Our doctor advised us to not wait on IVF since my endometriosis has a 30% chance of coming back (due to the less-invasive surgery). So, despite the crazy costs, we'll most likely be moving ahead with IVF in June, after my insides have fully healed and are good to go. Wish us luck!

Big Controversy

2009-03-16T21:47:00.006-06:00

If you live in Utah and/or are LDS, you'd have to be living under a rock to have not heard about the huge controversy surrounding last night's episode of Big Love. Big Love is an HBO show about a polygamist family living in Sandy, Utah. From what I gather having watched a few episodes of the show, the 2 main characters Barb and Bill, used to be in a monogamous marriage. Barb comes from a strict LDS background, whereas Bill was raised on a polygamist compound but was thrown out as a teenager. Together, they lived their lives as a normal LDS family until Barb was diagnosed with cancer. She needed a hysterectomy at the same time Bill was attempting to start a new business. So Bill made a deal with the polygamist compound's leader, Roman Grant, to marry one of Roman's daughters and procure a loan from Roman to Bill. So apparently Bill changed his mind and decided that polygamy was the way to go, and eventually Barb followed suit. Soon after, they added another wife to their family.

From what I understand, one point of conflict in these peoples' lives is hiding who they are from Barb's LDS family, their (mostly LDS) neighbors, and basically the rest of the world. While there are some LDS characters on the show portrayed as "narrow and self-righteous", as the Church's statement suggests, there is also a kind and sympathetic teenage girl character who befriends Barb and Bill's daughter Sarah. I found these portrayals accurate, given that I have encountered my fair share of narrow and self-rightetous fellow members of my faith, but there are also a great many sweet, wonderful, kind, and naive members of the Church as well.

I guess the big controversy arose because the shows' creators, two gay men, decided they wanted to include a plotline about Barb facing excommunication from the LDS Church (despite the fact that she no longer active due to her polygamous lifestyle) and wishing to attend the temple. Apparently the creators hired an "ex-Mormon consultant" to help them recreate temple ceremonies and clothing. Naturally, people freaked out that what is considered sacred and private would be on display to the entire world. Essentially, even active Mormons have to meet certain requirements to see and participate in these rituals, and here they are being shown to everyone.

Well, here's my take on it. First, by making such a big deal and threatening to boycott HBO and/or Tom Hanks movies (since he's a producer of the show), you're only calling attention to the episode. I wonder how many thousands more people watched it just to see what the fuss was all about. I know I did. Second, by telling people they have "no right" to see what is being depicted, you're only going to make people think you're doing something creepy and wrong and therefore needs to be hidden, when in fact what goes on in the temple is beautiful, peaceful, and special. So I decided to watch the episode.

The parts of the episode dealing with the temple were far more respectful and tasteful than I expected. Quite frankly, given the LDS Church's position on Prop 8 in California and the fact that this show is produced in California by two gay men, I expected an undercurrent of anti-Mormon sentiment to present itself in the depiction of temple ceremonies. After all, if I felt a church was to blame for stripping me of a basic civil right, I'd probably have a hard time depicting that church fairly and objectively. But I'd say the Church and its ceremonies were depicted fairly and even respectfully. Do I think that it should've been shown on television? No, I don't. But I'm obviously biased. Sure, I think the temple is sacred and private. But do others, including the creators of the show? No. To them, it's the same as watching a Catholic mass or Islamic prayer. And there's definitely the idea in Hollywood that nothing is sacred. Sacred religious ceremonies of many denominations have been depicted countless times on t.v. and in the movies. But at the same time, I respect the creators' First Amendment rights to create whatever content they wish. Especially content that isn't even mocking or cruel to the subject being depicted. What my fellow LDS people need to realize is that we CANNOT force other people to think and believe and choose and live exactly like we do, even if we think we're right. That's called Satan's plan, friends.

However, what bothered me most about this episode and really any episode depicting an element of LDS culture or beliefs is context and accuracy. That's what's really missing from Big Love. In an interview, the writers/creators claimed they did "months" of research to make the show accurate, hired an ex-Mormon consultant for help, and magazine and newspaper articles have praised their accuracy. I want to laugh out loud. Detailed? Yes. Fair? Perhaps. Accurate? No; in fact, laughably inaccurate. Apparently they are either terrible researchers, or their ex-Mormon consultant totally ripped them off. I could've improved their dialogue's accuracy in 5 minutes. Seriously, people.

For example, on other, decidedly less controversial episodes of the show, characters often use the word "testimony" and intend it to have the same connotation as the LDS usage of the word. The problem is, they throw the word around out of correct context, and it sounds ridiculous. It's hard to explain, but actual Mormons don't use the word "testimony" for just anything. We don't go around saying "Oh, I just got a testimony that we should move to Utah" or "I need to see if I get a testimony about that". I think the writers are confusing the Mormon usage of testimony and revelation, maybe? But neither of these words pop up as commonly in the Mormon vernacular as the show would suggest. (And it should be noted that we don't often throw out comments that we're receiving revelation concerning life's minutiae, either. That's just weird.)

Last night I actually laughed out loud at some of the writing with its errors in terminology. At one point, Barb's former bishop and stake president come visit her at her home to ask her about polygamy. But first they ask her about tithing. The bishop says to her, "I see you haven't been tithing in a while," to which Barb responds, "No, we haven't tithed in seven years." Um, who talks like that? Even the newest of converts would know that Mormons don't generally use "tithing" or "tithe" as verbs; rather, they're used as nouns, i.e. "We pay our tithing." I wonder how much the ex-Mormon consultant pocketed for his/her info about tithing? Highway robbery.

There were other plot-related issues that I also thought were silly and inaccurate. I think the writers set up the whole temple ceremony scenes to show Barb's inner conflicts--her old family versus the new one she and Bill have created through polygamy, her past versus her present and dubious future, a life she has always known versus the unknown she fears, etc. However, the creators could've done a much better job setting up, plot-wise, how she actually gets to the temple. In the episode, Barb begs her mother and sister to lend her a temple recommend so she could go "take her endowments" before a disciplinary hearing the next day at which she expected to be excommunicated for choosing to live a polygamous lifestyle. Error No. 1: if she and Bill were sealed in the temple and she was wore garments when they were just monogamous, as she has attested in previous episodes, she would've already been endowed. Endowment is pretty much a one-time thing. If she wanted to go, she would've been doing an endowment session for someone who had already passed away. Error No. 2: The order and specifics of the temple ceremony were off. Some details were accurate, but overly condensed and given absolutely no context. Some important details that would've provided both context and greater accuracy were inexplicably omitted altogether. Error No. 3: When Barb goes through the veil into the celestial room, her mother and sister were waiting for her. So whose recommend did she borrow? Recommends are pretty much a one-per-person deal, so if the mom and sister were already there, Barb couldn't have gotten in using either of theirs. Error No. 3: If Barb was, in fact, going to the temple to receive her own endowments then there would be no way she could've slipped in unnoticed. When you go to be endowed, temple workers meet individually with you to give you more explanation and guidance so you're not lost or confused when the endowment session begins. Your Church record is pulled up so your endowment can be documented. Therefore, you couldn't sneak in. And if Barb was going for someone else, then she would've been assigned the name of someone who had died to do the temple work by proxy. There was no mention of this at all. Error No. 4: The Church actually has new recommends with bar codes to scan in the reception/waiting area. So it's even more unlikely that Barb could sneak in on someone else's recommend. Error No. 5: After an emotional conversation with her mom and sister, a temple worker interrupts Barb and informs them their "15 minutes are up". What? No temple, that I know of, limits you to only 15 minutes in the celestial room.

So, these are the things that really bothered me about the episode. However, like I said, I thought the creators treated the subject matter as respectfully (if somewhat inaccurately) as they could. I don't think anyone was trying to be insensitive or demean the Church. The ceremonies and rituals weren't presented as laughable, weird, creepy, or scornful. It was meant to be a beautiful, spiritual, comforting, transcendant moment for Barb (set to Samuel Barber's Adagio as background music, which is one of my favorite classical pieces). Afterward, when asked about her experience at the temple, Barb replies, "I miss it. I love the ritual, the sense of purpose about it. I really miss it." So, to that extent, the creators did get something right. The temple is a lot about ritual, order, purpose, explanation, and enlightenment. It is about families and the possibility of being with ours forever, which is the exact possibility Barb feared she was losing.

I guess what I'm saying is although the errors bugged me, I wasn't incensed that HBO aired the episode. Why? I think Robert Kirby, a SL Tribune columnist who wrote a great column on this issue, said it best when he said, "I don't need HBO's respect or validation for what I consider sacred." I just hope and wish that those watching the ceremony realize that's not all there is to the temple. Just like a movie or t.v. show can never really encapsulate what giving birth is like or what fighting a war is like, especially when written, acted, and directed by people with no connection to the subject matter, so a t.v. show or movie cannot ever really accurately portray a religious ceremony like what happens in the temple when no participant has any meaningful connection to or understanding of the Church. I hope people realize this was a Hollywood dramatization; what two men thought would create an entertaining, if poignant, plotline for a character. I hope viewers understand that if they really want to know what goes on in the temple, the only way to find out is to experience it themselves. And I hope my fellow Mormons understand that you can catch many more flies with honey than vinegar. So please pass the honey.

Why is Facebook awesome?

2009-03-13T15:44:00.008-06:00

Because where else could someone post an incredible picture like this?

10 points if you can even find me in this craptacular shot. 10 more points if you can guess how old I was. Believe it or not, this was taken when I was 14 on the night of 9th Grade Promotion (junior high school graduation, for those of you who are not from Utah, where high school is only grades 10-12, and therefore cannot figure out how freshmen are graduating from anything). This particular picture was taken of me (front row on the left) and a bunch of girlfriends after dinner and right before the "dance" portion of the evening, which was the first real dance other than the lame after-school junior high dances. We were just so dang excited to be done with school for the summer and done with junior high. As you can see, junior high was not a pretty time for me. I wish I was wearing a sign explaining, "My parents had a fight over allowing me to wear this dress since it's sleeveless, but as you can see, not inappropriately sexy in the least. I don't know how to apply makeup yet, so I'm probably not wearing much more than blush and chapstick. I did my own hair, which for some reason looks really dark, and these are the disastrous results. Oh, and my mom made me wear her chunky gold necklace."

I can't believe how young, little, and silly we all look. Good thing there's Facebook, to remind me of why I'd never want to relive junior high!

Happy Birthday

2009-02-26T09:11:00.004-07:00

Today is Brian's birthday. Bri, I love you more than anything in the world. You are a great husband and a sweet dad to our puppy-babies, and I know you'll be an even better daddy to our (eventual) children. I'm so happy I'm your wife, companion, and friend. Here's to many more birthdays celebrated together in the future!

Love always,
Hill

Oh, the unintended drama...

2009-02-20T09:30:00.011-07:00

So, guess what? I'm an opinionated person. I'm not typically afraid to express those opinions. However, those opinions are not always welcome, appreciated, or even tolerated. Why, you ask? Because sometimes my opinion is not always that of a cookie-cutter Molly Utah Mormon. Seriously, because of one innocent comment on Facebook (which, by the way, I have a striking suspicion is actually the devil) about how sometimes my political views aren't always the norm in Utah/LDS culture and people freaked out. Suddenly I'm not a good person, not a good Mormon, and generally am going to hell by way of a handbasket. Awesome.

So, imagine my surprise in coming across a hilarious quiz to test my Mormonness, my Mormonosity, my Mormondom (with occasional requisite modifications):

If you were accused of being a Mormon, would there be enough evidence to convict?

Membership
Baptized member of Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints: +30

Identify self as active member of LDS faith when asked about religious affiliation: +5

Endowed: +15

Church Activity
Attend church every Sunday: +5

Attend all three hours: +3

Fulfill Church assignment as Relief Society teacher, including the occasional weeknight meeting: +3

Am making real effort to stay focused on the Savior during the sacrament despite screaming babies and toddlers using aisles as racetracks: +2

Spend too much time wondering what time it is and how much time is left. -2

Sometimes cringe at bad musical numbers. -2

Almost always mentally correct speakers' grammar and errors in word choice. -2

Do not have 5 pictures of Christ or the temple for every room (just 2 total): -1

Do not always attend Enrichment, especially if it's early on a Saturday morning: -2

DVR General Conference instead of watching every moment live: -2

Have cooked a meal for missionaries: +2

Have broken Sabbath: -2

Go visiting pestering, er, teaching, even though children of one visitee often say things that make me uncomfortable (such as: "I'm in love with my cat", "I kiss him on the lips", "He is my husband", and "Mom quit her job so now Dad doesn't make enough money for food"): +2

Read scriptures and pray daily: +5

Pay tithing and fast offerings: +2

Word of Wisdom Observance
Abstain from coffee, tea, illegal drugs, and tobacco products: +5

Sometimes drink caffeinated soda (but hey, it's diet): -2

Eat meat sparingly: +3

Eat an inordinate amount of cold cereal, grilled cheese, and cinnamon candies--not exactly a great balance of food groups. -3

Will eat food cooked in alcoholic liquid because technically the alcohol burns off: -2

Will not eat food baked with marijuana or laced with meth: +3

Temple Worship
Carry current temple recommend: +5

Have not attempted to pass it off as ID: -1

Don't attend temple as often as should: -2

Still don't remember everything am supposed to at temple: -2

Miscellaneous
Turned down scholarship from BYU because thought of matriculating there was nauseating: -5

Finished college degree: +1

Did so before getting married: -1

Attended law school while husband supported me (instead of other way around): -1

When husband attends graduate school, would rather work than live off government benefits: -3

Like working and enjoy career outside the home: -2

Do not cook gourmet meals for husband every night: -2

Married before the age of 21, thereby avoiding becoming spinster: +5

Did not serve a mission: -5 (or +5, if you're one of those misogynists with attitude about sister missionaries)

Am not a registered Republican and do not have "Mitt Romney 2012" signs at the ready: -20

Have seen an R-rated movie: -3

Have read an R-rated book: -3

Don't feel bad about it: -5

Married a Mormon: +5

Am not a mother, despite being married more than a year and reaching mid-twenties: -3

Do not have plans for at least 6 children: -3

Have food storage: +2

Do not have fancy racks and can-rotating system for it: -1

Have scrapbooked: +1

Am not representative for scrapbooking company, candle company, or modest clothing company: -1

Utah Mormonry
Live in Utah while being a Mormon: +5

Can trace ancestry back to Pioneers: +5

Am a Mormon blogger: +5

Enjoy living in Utah, for the most part: +3

Eat Jell-o more than once a year: +1

Know at least 5 Jell-o recipes, 3 of which must include
some sort of fruit addition: +1

Love the musical Wicked: +3

Have had teeth bleached: +2

Think that Anthropologie is greatest store ever: +2

Enjoy DownEast basics, TJ Maxx, Modbe, and Tai Pan: +2

Shop at Costco (aka Mormon Mecca) at least once a month: +2

Highlight hair with blond streaks: +2

Have so many Shade-type shirts that could own stock: +2

Don't wear them as actual shirts, only as layering pieces: -2

Do not refer to areas outside of Utah as "the mission field": -2

Resent having my tax dollars go toward education in a state with the highest rate of school-aged children per capita while state senators, most of whom are Mormon, wrangle free lunches typically reserved for low income families for their own children: -10

Don't think Prop 8 was the best idea ever, don't think gays are bad or evil, do think that they should have civil rights equal to heterosexual couples, and don't think they are ruining society since heterosexuals are doing a fine job of that already: -15

Think Chris Buttars should be fired, then bound, gagged, and forcibly medicated because he is an idiotic old bigot: -2

Care about the environment and the fact that you can't actually breathe around here: -3

Have no plans to name babies after Book of Mormon prophets or important figures in Church history: -3

General Mormon Niceness
Am generally a very nice, semi-quiet/demure person: +4

Except for when I'm not:-3

So, I don't really know how I'm faring here, and inevitably there will be someone who fares better. But, as the author of this original quiz said, is someone with enough evidence to convict really just synonymous with "someone who questions nothing, sees the world in exactly the same way you do , and does not ever think or do or say anything you disagree with." Good luck finding people like that anywhere but a farm, because I think they're called sheep.

Anyway, I thought this was funny. Have I missed anything in terms of Mormon attributes that need evaluating?

V-Day Rundown

2009-02-15T19:26:00.005-07:00

I had a great, low-key Valentine's Day with Bri. To avoid crowds and craziness, we decided to go out for a celebratory lunch instead of dinner. Bri took me to Aristo's, one of my favorites--it's Greek food that is so tasty (especially the hummus and pitas). Then he took me to Gateway and let me run a bunch of errands I'd be wanting to do, plus patiently waited while I spent an hour and a half in Anthropologie without buying anything. Next we took Bella and Lola in their Valentine's outfits to take Valentines to my parents. Then I went to the grocery store (had to; we were so out of food) while Bri stayed home watching the pups. When I got home, Bri made me a quick dinner and we watched shows of my choosing. Oh, and for dessert, we had chocolate-covered strawberries (which are my absolute favorite and I could put away a dozen or more of them all by myself, easily).

Today I decided to reciprocate by making dinner for Brian, which to be honest, hasn't happened a lot lately. I decided to make it a fancier dinner, too, just to remind him that I can actually cook when I try. I made homemade rolls, chicken Cordon Bleu with lemon cream sauce, and roasted winter vegetables (new recipe from Barefoot Contessa that I modified a bit, and it turned out awesome! If you're wondering, it was carrots, parsnips, potatoes, and pearl onions drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with grill seasoning, roasted at 425 for 45 minutes, then broiled for 2-3 minutes). For dessert, I made strawberry shortcake. Everything tasted really good, but sure took a lot of time and effort! Now I'm burned out and will probably go back to the quick, simple meals I usually cook (if I cook at all).

So, we had a wonderful, relaxing holiday. How about you?

Happy Valentine's Day!

2009-02-14T11:10:00.001-07:00

Love,

Lola & Bella

(and, yes, those are Valentine's dresses)

Maple Syrup

2009-02-13T21:40:00.004-07:00

Today Brian and I both got home from work exhausted. After playing the puppies for a few minutes, we both decided to get in the shower and unwind before relaxing the rest of the night. After showering, we went to get into bed to snuggle with the puppies, and all of a sudden we smelled...maple syrup. An incredibly strong, pungent scent of maple syrup.

I start sniffing around trying to figure out where it's coming from, and Brian starts to laugh. "What?" I ask. "Why are you laughing?"

"You did it, didn't you? You waited until I wasn't paying attention and spritzed the sheets with some sort of body or room spray!" he says.

"Um, no, no I did not. Why on earth would I own room or body spray smelling of breakfast food, and if I did own something like that, why would I sneak around spraying sheets with it?"

"I don't know, I like breakfast. It's good. So why not?"

And there you have it. Apparently my husband would appreciate it if I could make our sheets smell like food more often. Oh, and we never did figure out why it smelled like maple syrup.

Valentine's Day Tag

2009-02-11T11:38:00.003-07:00

Thanks, Sarah, for the fun tag:

meet the couple:

him:

1. Sitting in front of the TV, what's on the screen? Football.

2. You're out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get on his salad? Bleu cheese or vinaigrette.

3. What's one food he doesn't like? Mushrooms, black olives

4. You go out to a restaurant, what does he get to drink? Diet Coke

5. Where did he go to high school? Alta Loma High School (California)

6. What is one phrase he says all the time? "Laters."

7. If he was to collect anything, what would it be? Watches, knives, computers

8. What is his favorite type of sandwich? He loves all sandwiches, especially meatball and the turkey cranberry sandwich at Paradise Bakery.

9. What would this person eat everyday if he could? McDonald's tiny cheeseburgers or some sort of sandwich.

10. What is his favorite cereal? Grape Nuts, Count Chocula, or Reese's.

11. What would he never wear? A speedo, anything too tight or girly looking.

12. What is his favorite sports team? the Utes!

13. Who will he vote for? Brian is a very careful, informed voter. So it would depend on whose platform, debates, and interviews impressed him the most.

14. Who is his best friend? Probably either one of the Larsen brothers, me, or his brother Michael.

15. How many states has he lived in? Too many to count! Utah, California, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Oklahoma, just to name a few.

16. Does he have any nervous habits? He pulls out his eyebrow hairs with his fingers--it drives me nuts!

17. What could he spend hours doing? Playing on his computers.

18. He is: smart, stubborn, dedicated, funny, playful, helpful, type A.

her:

1. Sitting in front of the TV, what's on the screen? Depends on the day.

2. You're out to eat; what kind of dressing does she get on her salad? Ranch, always on the side.

3. What's one food she doesn't like? Tomatoes, mustard, mayonnaise, pickles, to name a few.

4. You go out to a restaurant, what does she get to drink? Diet Coke and water.

5. Where did she go to high school? Olympus High School

6. What is one word or phrase she says all the time? "Seriously"

7. If she was to collect anything, what would it be? Expensive shoes

8. What is her favorite type of sandwich? Grilled cheese

9. What would she eat everyday if she could? Rice Krispie Treats, gummy bears

10. What is her favorite cereal? Crispix or Cocoa Krispies

11. What would she never wear? Shorts

12. What is her favorite sports team? the Utes!

13. Who will she vote for? Depends on who is running

14. Who is her best friend? Me, Tenley, or Danyelle

15. How many states has she lived in? 1, and studied abroad in France

16. Does she have any nervous habits? She fidgets constantly, especially by moving her feet--can't sit still.

17. What could she spend hours doing? Reading or shopping, especially at Anthropologie.

18. She is: in the office next to me.

I tag:
Christi, Danyelle (start a blog so you can do this!), Amy, Julie, Lisa, and Cassie

Awesomeness

2009-02-04T12:17:00.006-07:00

My father-in-law had back surgery Monday night, so last night we went to visit him at University Hospital. Apparently the hospital is really crowded, or is cutting costs, or something like that, because he had a roommate. The roommate was a 74-year-old man named Harold*, who prefers to be called Harry, who is single, from the East coast, and broke his femur skiing in Park City.

I guess Harry had been waiting a long time for an orderly to bring his dinner, and was getting rather upset that it hadn't arrived. Finally, he got on the phone to call the kitchen. No joke, this is what he said: "Look, you said you'd bring my dinner hours ago! If it's not here in 15 minutes, I'm going to call Hooters** and have them deliver some food for me!" Um, ok Harold. Whatever.

*Harry also informed me that he's quite the ladies' man despite his age. Apparently he met a woman for dinner who proposed to him in the middle of it. I asked if he ran away, but he said he was sure to finish his dinner first, then ran away. When I asked where he met such a desperate woman, he replied, "Match.com." What a 74-year-old is doing trolling for available young women on the internet is beyond me.

**And why call Hooters, of all places, for takeout when you're starving? From what I understand, Hooters is not exactly known for its inspired culinary creations...it's frequented by men patronizing it for its "other" attractions.

Years Ago

2009-01-28T16:02:00.006-07:00

20 Years Ago…
1. I was five years old and going to Challenger Preschool.
2. I liked to play Barbies and read.
3. My best friend was my cousin Chelsea.

10 Years Ago…
1. I was fifteen and a sophomore at Olympus High School.
2. I had a huge crush on one of my neighbors.
3. I desperately wanted to be sixteen.

5 years ago…
1. Brian and I were dating.
2. I was preparing to graduate from the U with my B.A. in English and French.
3. I was accepted into law school at the U.

3 years ago…
1. I was halfway through law school and working.
2. Brian was working full time and going to school full time.
3. We were tired and barely saw each other.

1 year ago…
1. I was enjoying just working--no school.
2. I was planning a Valentine's dinner party that was so fun but so much work!
3. I scheduled our first appointment with an RE.

This year so far…
1. Our puppies are finally potty-trained!
2. We went to Jackson Hole.
3. I was reminded that I am, in fact, a terrible skier.

Yesterday…
1. I had tons of errands to do.
2. I didn't unpack my bag from our trip.
3. I went to bed too late.

Today…
1. I picked up delicious cookies to take visiting teaching.
2. I kissed Brian goodbye for his last minute trip to Sacramento.
3. I left work early.

Tomorrow…
1. I will kiss and snuggle my puppies.
2. I will probably talk to Brian 10 times--it seems like we talk even more when we're apart (weird).
3. I will probably watch a movie, preferable a cheesy chick flick, at some point.

Next Year…
1. I will be pregnant or have a baby.
2. I will go to California for Tenley's college graduation.
3. I will hopefully have a new house.

Inspired

2009-01-20T11:10:00.002-07:00

Did you watch Obama's inauguration speech today? All I have to say is wow.

Regardless of your politics, I think you'd have to be made of stone to not feel excited by the speech. Regardless of your feelings toward him, you can't deny that Obama is an incredible, charismatic, articulate speaker.

I can't remember an inauguration so full of hope, excitement, expectations, inspiration, and unity. There are a lot of things that have gone wrong recently, and none can be blamed on one specific person or even on a specific group. But I felt so buoyed up by his optimistic words and promises. I hope he makes good on them.

I guess what I'm saying is as I watched a man be sworn in as President (a man whose father couldn't have fathomed being served at a white-only local restaurant, let alone being elected President), while his darling little girls smiled widely at their daddy and his adoring wife looked on, I couldn't help but feel the Spirit. Yes we can.

Confessions

2009-01-18T14:45:00.003-07:00

1. Facebook has added a frightening new dimension to one's ability to cyberstalk. Seriously, if I let myself, I could spend hours being creepy, searching out snippets of information about ex-boyfriends, Brian's ex-girlfriends, or old friends. It's definitely easier, and therefore creepier, to find people on Facebook than through blogs.

2. I might, just might, be overcoming my hatred of 9 a.m. church. But that's if, and only if, I get to take a nap from 1-3.

3. Knock on wood, but I think our puppies may have finally (FINALLY!) figured out that it's bad form to pee in the kennel. But then again, it's only been a few days. I may very well have many more evenings dominated by cleaning up pee and bathing 2 soaked puppies. Awesome.

4. Speaking of puppies, they managed to chew through and ruin my cell phone cord and my laptop cord in the same day.

5. I don't understand the obession with American Idol. It's just not my thing. Especially since I've heard the producers decided this season to scale back on footage of delusional trainwrecks. Hello! That's really the ONLY reason I'd ever watch the show!

6. My diet this week has consisted mostly of apples, strawberries, broccoli pasta, and Cocoa Krispies. Obviously the food pyramid was a bit lost on me.

Merry Chreeeesmas and Happy New Jeers!

2009-01-07T18:14:00.003-07:00

Ok, so I know this is late, but I forgot to post this earlier. Tenley and Ashlee introduced me to Dave Barnes who, with the exception of a series of "Christmas Extravaganza" videos, is a normal singer/songwriter. However, for the past 3 Christmases he's made idiotic videos posted on Youtube during which he sports a ridiculous faux Hispanic accent (Mexican? Puerto Rican? who knows), hideous and too small Christmas sweaters, and sings all the wrong words to Christmas songs. The first time I watched them, I got a stomach ache from laughing so hard. Although all 3 videos are funny, I think this one, part 2, is the best (but if you have time, look up the other ones--Dave Barnes Christmas Extravaganza Parts 1 and 3):

Personally, my favorite parts are the sign at the beginning, where it says Christmas Extravagan-za, because the "za" wouldn't fit on the same line, "15, 25 Christmas trees", "Police never die!" instead of Feliz Navidad, "When he sneezes, does Rudolph have red boogers?", and "Here comes Santa's claws...but why would he have claws? He has all the toys in the world! Hire someone to cut your fingernails!"

Goodbye and Hello

2009-01-05T11:53:00.006-07:00

So, if you haven't noticed, I'm a terrible blogger. Every promise I made about posting pictures of our goings-on the past few months has fallen through...but I promise we actually did stuff. We went to California in August with the Larsens (and met up with Tenley and the Becks), got puppies in September, (I) turned 25 in September, celebrated my Dad's and Parker's birthdays in October, went to Jackson Hole in October with the Larsens, celebrated Halloween at Ben and Cassie's house (complete with a pirate costume for Bella and a bumblebee costume for Lola), wished Tenley luck in her soccer games over her birthday in November, watched the Utes KILL BYU (truly great!), celebrated Thanksgiving with the all the McCormacks at the Becks' house in California, went to baby Gavin's blessing and a nice lunch afterward in December, had a hilarious Ugly Christmas Sweater Party at the Larsens' (complete with elf and reindeer costumes for the puppies), went on an 11-day trip to California in December (during which we had to kennel the puppies with our vet so they could be spayed, which resulted in my crying all the way to Provo and again in Las Vegas because I missed them and was sad to leave), did all of our Christmas shopping in California (and, consequently, no Christmas decorating whatsoever at home in Utah), celebrated my mom's birthday in December, celebrated Christmas with both families (why is it that Christmas is so exhausting? Maybe it's because I never get any sleep on Christmas Eve because I'm always preparing food for Christmas Day and wrapping all our gifts, and because it feels like we have 50 million places to go), went to lots of movies (Marley & Me--sobbed through 1/2 the movie, Curious Case of Benjamin Button--eh, kind of long, Twilight--okay), got a nasty case of the stomach flu and reached a new life low when I was vomiting for the 6th time and it came out my nose, barely worked at all the past 2 weeks, watched the Utes DOMINATE Alabama in the Sugar Bowl (best...game...ever!), wished I could've seen the game in person but wasn't willing to pay $2,000 to do so, played games and watched a movie on New Year's Eve...and was almost too tired to stay up for a New Year's kiss, got dressed up and went to Log Haven with my family, and watched a lot of recorded tv shows. So pretty much, that's what we've been doing.

I'm not much of a New Year's Resolution-er (is that even a word?), but I thought I'd make a list of things I said goodbye to in 2008, and things I will or hope to welcome in 2009:

Goodbye lots of trips in 2008...hello to saving money in 2009 for a new house and hopefully a new baby.

Goodbye to Buddy...hello to Bella and Lola.

Goodbye to 25...hello to 26 (ok, I know I'm not really old, but I can't help feeling like it).

Goodbye to restlessness and wanting to move...hello to improving our house so we can get the most out of it when we do sell.

Goodbye to old X-terra that was the first car we bought together...hello to new X-terra that's almost the exact same as our old one.

Goodbye to having money just sitting in savings...hello, possibly, to in vitro?

Goodbye to feeling sorry about our crappy fertility situtation over which I have no control because nothing's wrong...hello to doing something about it!

Goodbye to being my dad's lowly employee...hello to becoming the junior associate of R. Scott Rawlings & Associate.

Goodbye to my favorite silver ballet flats (totally worn out)...hello to new ones I'll hopefully like just as well.

Goodbye to sleeping in as late as I want on Saturdays...hello to puppies who want to eat breakfast and go outside at 8:30 every morning, at the latest.

Goodbye to Primary...hello to Relief Society.

Goodbye to wonderful 11 a.m. church...hello dreaded 9 a.m. church.

Goodbye to 4 years of marriage...hello to 5.

Goodbye to small families...hello to us becoming an aunt and uncle to tons of cute kidlets!

Goodbye to our old stove, fridge, microwave, t.v., and leather couches...hello to new stuff.

Goodbye to thinking of my youngest brother as a little boy...hello to being the shortest of my siblings with the highest-pitched voice.

and, a hopeful goal for 2009:

Goodbye student loans...hello to freedom from debt (except our mortgage, of course)?

Goodbye 2008...hello 2009.

Things I Leared about Court Today

2008-12-03T09:57:00.004-07:00

Today I had my first opportunity to appear before a judge at a hearing for 2 of our firm's clients. I've only been in court 3 or 4 times before, and never when I was a licensed attorney. I was excited, nervous, anxious, and eager to get going with oral argument.

I felt very confident in our clients' position, and we'd spent hours going over all the briefs in preparation for oral argument. Court was in session at 8:00 a.m. with a full docket, so I figured we'd be there a while. I thought our case would be deferred until the end of the docket, and then the judge would hear argument and render a decision, right? Wrong. We were done by 8:15 a.m.

So, in light of today's anticlimactic hearing, here are a few things I learned about court today:

1. Judges want to clear their dockets. Fast.
2. Judges don't want to hear issues, problems, and cases when they can defer them elsewhere.
3. If a judge asks you a question, answer it. Promptly. Concisely. Otherwise, he or she's going to get mad (fortunately I learned this by observation, not personal experience).
4. If you get notice from a court of a hearing on your case, show up. And be on time. Absence or tardiness also makes judges mad.
5. Big fancy law firms often send junior associates who don't have a clue what they're talking about to minor hearings like this one.
6. Some people see court as an opportunity to dress surprisingly casually. Even attorneys, who have a fairly strict dress code, seemed extremely relaxed in their appearances. Personally, I think a judge will be a lot more likely to take me seriously if I don't look homeless. Just saying.
7. I was lucky to have both my dad and another experienced attorney on our side, so I wasn't nearly as nervous or intimidated as I could've been. But I still have so much to learn.
8. It's not often, at 5'8 1/2", that I feel small...unless standing with my "little" brothers, who aren't really littler than I anymore, just younger. But standing, in flats, next to my dad (6'5") and this other attorney (at least 6'3"), I felt like a midget, or kind of like a little girl sneaking into an adults-only club or meeting. Interesting.

Embarrassing Moment of the Week

2008-11-17T17:20:00.001-07:00

Today the puppies had their vaccinations. I was nervous to take them in, because in the 2 months we've had them, I've really grown to love them. So anything that might hurt them, even for a second, makes me sad.

As we were waiting for the vet to come in, I held the puppies on my lap in the exam room. Now, I've heard of dog owners blaming things on their dogs, but this was definitely the other way around. Bella and Lola have a history of being, well, a little bit...gassy. I won't lie, it's bad...and smells like the real, adult, human variety--gross! So we're sitting there, and all of a sudden, one of them lets a little gas slip. Whew! It reaked!

Of course, as luck would have it, the vet came in right after. I was so embarrassed! It smelled horrible, and he probably thought I was the culprit. I don't think I'll be able to look him the eye ever again!

Veteran's Day

2008-11-11T10:01:00.013-07:00

Today is Veteran's Day, so I wanted to blog today about my husband, who is a decorated veteran. Brian joined the Army after his mission, and served for 6 years. After boot camp and training schools, he was sent to South Korea for 1 year before being stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. He spent most of his time as a UH-60 Blackhawk Crew Chief and attained the rank of sergeant (ever see the movie Blackhawk Down? Brian's job was the same as those soldiers, and the incident happened just a few years before Brian joined the Army). Brian would never talk about what happened during his service the Army, and it's definitely not my place to share his private experiences on a public blog. But my husband is a hero. My husband saved numerous lives. My husband is a recipient of one of the highest awards the military offers.

I think children today have no idea of the sacrifices veterans have made for the freedoms they take for granted. I've never lived in a time where soldiers were drafted to a fight a war they didn't start. Although we are currently fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan, along with various other locations no one would ever know about, at least they weren't conscripted to be there. But I was brought up to respect veterans, since both my grandfathers served in World War II. I know their experiences at war forever changed them, and probably traumatized them even though they felt they were there for righteous purposes. I hope I raise children who similarly love, appreciate, and respect veterans. There are certain movies, which despite their ratings and content, my children will see. We will watch The Patriot, Schindler's List, Black Hawk Down, Flags of Our Fathers, Tears of the Sun, and Saving Private Ryan. Although these are Hollywood dramatizations, I know for me they made everything more real. They increased my gratitude for the time and place where I was born and now live. They opened my eyes to the sacrifices others made for my freedom to choose where I live, whom I love, what I do, what I say, and how I worship. I want the same for my children.

So today, on Veteran's Day, I wanted to take a moment to honor and recognize my husband, since he never got the respect, honor, and recognition he deserved (however, he was truly touched when his nephews colored Veteran's Day pictures and thanked him for his service last year). It is because of people like him I can enjoy my freedom and never think of the price someone paid for it. Regardless of how you feel about the war, the men and women fighting it are risking their lives and experiencing horrors most of us will never understand. They don't have a choice of whom they fight or where. Their political interests aren't being served. They're not the ones manipulating other governments or economies. They are simply serving our country to the best of their abilities. I love these men and women, and pray for their safety and swift return. I'm so grateful my husband served. I'm grateful he saved lives. And I'm grateful his service is over.

Shout Out!

2008-11-10T10:22:00.006-07:00

Again, I'm bragging about my little sister. Again, I don't care. After an incredibly disappointing loss Saturday in the SCIAC Conference Tournmanent (1-0 against Claremont), Tenley figured her junior soccer season was over. Wrong.

This morning she found out that because Redlands was so highly ranked, it earned an at-large bid to the NCAA playoffs. So pretty much the loss didn't matter. Redlands plays UC Santa Cruz this Saturday at home (nice), and the game will be interesting because these two teams already played each other earlier this year as a non-conference opponent.

I also found out that Tenley and her team are ranked nationally in NCAA Division III statistics (in addition to their overall team ranking). While her team is 7th in goals against average, 7th in save percentage, and 15th in shutout percentage, Tenley is individually ranked as well. She is 10th in both save percentage and goals against average. This is a HUGE deal, and I can't imagine how incredible in must feel to be considered one of the top 10 goalkeepers in nationwide NCAA Division III soccer! I'm so proud of my talented sister!