something from the lighter side of the menu

My brother Andy called me at work, very upset.

Andy is the Dali Lama of rock ‘n roll.  This kid usually doesn’t get bugged by much.  He loves cheese.  He loves cheese like the sea loves water and the sky loves blue.  He is one with the cheese, all mellow and melty.  Sure, sometimes he gets a bit crunchy when fired up, but generally, this kid is a happy camper.

So when Andy gets upset about something (aside from there being no cheese to eat), I tend to listen.

“You are not going to believe this,” he said.  Drama.

“What? What happened?” I asked.

“That stupid dog.”

“Did you back over him on the drive way?”

“No. I dropped mom and dad off [he told me where, but I can’t remember], and they brought the dog and he PUKED on my passenger seat. PUKED.”

sarah and charlieCharlie, the dog, is a little King Charles Spaniel (or whatever he is) and he belongs to our sister Sarah.  He has this face that makes me want to snuggle with him all day long, but then he does the most atrocious things, like, for example, puke in my brother’s car.  And poop outside our bedroom door.  And eat the crotches out of dirty panties left on the floor, in open suitcases or in laundry baskets he can get into.

So while he is cute, his stock is on the low side with the family.

And puking in Andy’s brand new car, well, let’s just say his stock was downgraded to whatever is just above junk status.

“Well, the good news is that you can just wipe it out,” I told Andy.  Smart guy got the leather seats.

“Oh – it won’t stain it?”

“Not if you wipe it out.  But if you want to make sure that it doesn’t happen again, back over the dog with the car*.”

“I might.” Big sigh. Drama averted.  If the puke stained, I think he might have considered having an “accident” with the dog.

“Don’t worry Andy, I won’t tell anyone.”

*There were no animals injured or legitimately threatened in the making of this blog post.  I cannot confirm or deny that the above conversation actually took place.  I’m just saying that it might have happened.  I am sure that Charlie will live to eat the crotches out of a lot more underwar.  Godspeed, Charlie.

not the miracle i was expecting

Well, with a force that my body has not demonstrated in years, my period started again.

It was not the miracle I was expecting.

I fought back tears for a little bit in the bathroom at work and then I put on my happy face and went back to work.

What can I do about it anyway?

There is no use in wallowing, but man – this is tough crap.  I think that when Paul wrote to rejoice in our trials and suffering, this is what he was talking about.  When he said rejoice, did he mean crawl in bed and hide under the covers for a few days?  Cuz man, that is about as much rejoicing as I am able to do do right now.

But: When I look back at the person that I was just a decade ago and the person that God is shaping me to be, through the difficult circumstances and heart ache that we experienced, I believe that it is some kind of miracle.  Glory belongs to God, regardless of my circumstance.  Because of Him, this kind of empty heartache ends here on earth and is replaced with the fullness of joy we can have in Him in heaven. 

Praise God that He is a long term visionary. 

He knew that this day would happen and He paved a path for me that gives me hope in what feels like a hopeless situation.  Despite the bad test results last week and no pregnancy today, I know that there is hope.  And not necessarily that I believe that there is hope for a child (although I do hope for children), but a bigger hope for a future that is greater than this moment.  Our fertility (or infertility) may be a situation affects me, but it will not be a situation that defines me.

So I may be sad right now, because well, this is a sad time.  But I will not be sad forever.  God may not promise children to me, but He did promise salvation if I believe.

That’s a pretty sweet miracle.

vegas

We interrupt our regularly scheduled emotional roller coaster for a brief recap of our adventures in Vegas.

Day 1:

My mom arrived at 6:15 a.m. to take me to the airport.  She’s a peach.  She watched me give myself my trigger shot and then helped me wipe off the dripping blood and gently confirmed that I gave myself the shot in the vein and “man, it’s already bruising!”  Awesome. Uneventful (blood-free) time at the airport.  Had a snack.  Got on the plane.  Mechanical issue.  Lovely. Had some soda (delish).  Arrived in Vegas.

First of all, Vegas wants your money.  If you didn’t know that about Vegas, they make it apparent the minute you step off of the plane.  “Emmmmily – oh, Emmmmmily!  Come play our slots!  Your bags are going to take a while – have  a seat, get out some quarters and let the good times roll!”

My will power was too much for them.  I walked past the slot machines with hardly a backward glance.  Hardly.

I picked up my bags at the carousel, called Frank and got on a shuttle to the Bellagio.  Arrived at the Bellagio, found husband, changed, went on a mission for food.  Emily was VERY hungry.  Mmmm.

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Then we proceeded to walk most of the strip, all the way up to the Venetian.  This is one place where one block of walking equals 12 blocks.

We saw 10,234 slot machines on our little adventure.

The below picture is us being awesome at the Venetian.

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The nice thing about the Venetian: indoors and air conditioned.  Dry heat is still heat, my friends.  Don’t give me crap about dry heat when it is 105 degrees outside.  Heat is heat.

I was glowing (or perspiring like a mo-fo).

After our sweaty trek, we went back to the hotel and got ready for dinner.  Because we are connoisseurs of the buffet, we were naturally looking forward to tables and tables of meat and cheese and other delightful confections.  First stop: the Wynn Buffet.

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This picture is me trying not to be too obvious about how hungry I am.  This is at the atrium of the Wynn hotel.  It was my favorite hotel in Vegas, hands down.

And this picture, well, this is me preparing to eat my husband for dinner.  And I don’t mean it like that.  Well, maybe I do.  You tell me: is this a “come hither” look or is it a “I want my dinner” look?
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Finally, after 45 minutes of hoping and dreaming and praying that we would one day be at the front of the line – we were!  Eureka!

Our delight over our first meal resulted in two of the only food photos of the trip, but I am not going to post those here.  I don’t want anyone to be jealous (and also, Frank didn’t upload them to our Flickr account – dirty!!)

Then we walked back from the Wynn and decided to try to take in a very scandelous free show outside of Treasure Island.  Lots of gyrating female and male dancers in skimpy clothing.  Good thing people brought their kids.  “Hey kids, look what you can be when you grow up!”  Awesome.

Anyway – here is me outside of the Wynn.  Love. It.

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And ladies, don’t get jealous – he is all mine:
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Then we stopped at the Bellagio to take in the famous fountain display. For a desert, that sure was a lot of water.

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And then… bed time.  Cuz we party like rockstars, yo.

Day 2:

Got up, tried to go for a run.  While Vegas is a town that accepts only beautiful people (naturally attained or otherwise), they sure don’t want to do a lot to help you get beautiful.  Because when you are running on a treadmill, you can’t play the slots.  And if you are not drinking or gambling, they are not making money.

What I am trying to say is that the fine folks at the Bellagio wanted us to pay $50 for both of us to use their fine workout facilities.

No. Thanks.

Instead, I opted to sit at the pool and consider life. And read a saucy romance novel.

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And here we are together, hanging out by the pool. Frank is trying not to angry about the lack of frosty beverages in his hand.
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Once we were finished with being awesome poolside, we decided to enjoy yet another buffet. Mmmm.

And then we walked the strip.  In the Dry Heat.  Not so dry when you’re sweating through your socks, though.

Which leads us to Caesar’s Palace.  “Caesar, let’s go that way!” “No, Frank and Emily, let’s go THAT way!” Well, the Roman empire is no more, so I guess we all know how it turned out. Should have listened to us, Mr. Caesar.

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Frank asked the Egyptian Santa for a flat screen TV for Christmas. We will see if Egyptian Santa delivers.   (I’m not betting on it – he looked a little shady)

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And then, in the middle of the desert, we have the NYC skyline:
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Later that night, after I showered (again), we went out to the Palms.  The Palms was very cool.  We went up to the Playboy Club (which was more tame (visually speaking) than any of the casino bars, by far) and had a cocktail.  Then we headed over to the other tower of the Palms and went up to the Ghostbar, which was Frank’s favorite bar of all.  He was giddy with excitement.  Giddy.  I’m not kidding.  Have you ever seen Frank giddy?  Well, I have.  This is what it looks like:

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I know. I wish he’d just calm down.
And here are more pics of Vegas from that night:
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Day 3
The Grandest Canyon of them all. And probably the best day of our trip. I loved, loved, loved it. Except for the part where I almost puked. And the part where we got stuck in the rain. But whatever – a small price to pay, in my opinion.  I’d do it all over again (but with an umbrella).

Our airplane:
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The Hoover Dam (ha ha):
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A view from the ground:
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“Emily, look off into the distance at the other side of the Grand Canyon, really feel it. Work it. Noice.”
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We were RIGHT. THERE. We were here, and the Grand Canyon was right THERE. Whoa.
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Oh, and then it rained.
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But the storms made for some cool views on the way back.
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Tired, mostly dry (but a little wet), we made our way back to our hotel.

Because seeing one of the most magnificient wonders of God’s creation wasn’t enough for one day, we also went to see Cirque du Soleil’s “O”. “O” is the phonetic speaking of the french word “Eau” which means “water.” (Not sure why I used all the quotes, but really – if you stayed with me this long, you probably don’t care. You probably just want me to end this torturous play-by-play of our vacation and put you out of your misery. Quotes are the least of your problems if you made it this far.) Anyway, the point being, the stage was water. Or, more accurately, it was a pool with an adjustable floor that went up and down depending on the scene.

“O” reminded me of two things: 1) I am not flexible. The most daring feat I accomplish is touching my toes. Touching my toes while balancing on the forehead of a woman who is balancing all of her weight on her big toe, which is securely placed on a trapeze – well, that’s why they made the Darwin Awards. 2) I am a spoiled brat. After the first two amazing sequences where people were swinging through the air, attached to another human being by only the friction created by their leg hair and their abnormally strong big toes, I started to be less impressed with, say, diving off of a several story platform, into a pool of water. I can barely bring myself to jump into a pool from the side, much less a diving board SEVERAL stories in the air.

My own personal guilt aside, it was a beautiful show. I really enjoyed it.

Day 4:

Went home.

***

And I’m spent.  Thanks for reading about our Vegas adventure!

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processing

My initial response to the test results was really not, what I would call, “positive.”

As a matter of fact, it was pretty ugly.  U. G. L. Y.  You ain’t got no alibi – you ugly!

Sorry, it was too tempting to slip into SNL mode.

I’m not sure what the next step in the grieving process technically is, but I have been bouncing around all of the steps, sometimes in the same 10 minute period.  Just in the past 20 minutes:

  • Denial. (Nah.  The doctor was just kidding.  She’s such a kidder!)
  • Anger. (F* this crap)
  • Irrational hope (could be denial? who cares!  we still have a 1 in a million shot!)
  • Shock.  (really?  really???)
  • Guilt.  (this is because I (fill in the blank) when I was (fill in the blank))
  • Denial.  (La la la la)
  • Obsession.  (Not just a fragarance, but a very real experience.  Website du jour: WebMD)

I don’t know what our next steps are.  I have to remember that.  It doesn’t look good right now, but who knows.  All is not completely lost yet. But I have to be prepared either way.

I do know that I don’t want to be treated differently, but I need people to know that I may not come to every baby shower, first birthday or otherwise kid-ful event, but I still want to have the option.  It would be worse to be a social outcast AND struggling with fertility.  But I don’t want a second’s worth of guilt over saying no.  And I don’t want to have to explain it.  So I’m not going to.

I do know that God has control of this situation.  He knew about it before I was even born.  And He has a plan.  But man, this is rough.

another set back.

I had another round of tests done before my doctor went on vacation and before Frank and I went to Vegas. Friday my doctor called with the results and they were bad. I have to get a second opinion on it, but it’s not looking good. It would take a miracle for me to be pregnant this month. Please pray for one.

I held it together at work pretty well. I was in shock for the first hour after. I managed to call Frank and tell him. And then I sat at my desk, fighting back tears and trying to keep a wavering smile on my face. On the way home I screamed and cried and used some unattractive swear words. When I came home, I curled up next to Frank and he said, “Ok, we are going to be upset about this for one hour. Then we are going to do things we can control, like clean out the basement.” So for one hour we were sad and then after that, we turned on some music and threw out the junk in our basement and added to our garage sale pile.

So yeah, we’re looking for a miracle – and I don’t mean a ticket to a Grateful Dead concert.

I am asking God for more peace. I am so beyond angry about this. And really, I don’t feel that I should be angry about this. It’s like going to Vegas and losing while other people win. And then going outside of the casino and realizing most of the world can’t afford the dollar to play because they are starving and thirsty and cold.

We are so blessed in so many ways. We have each other, for one. He is absolutely my soul mate and I wouldn’t trade him for anything. We have families that we love and that taught us a lot about life and loving. We have amazing friends. We both have awesome jobs. Jobs that are interesting and exciting and enriching. We have a home that we really enjoy and love. Our cup runs over.

So I am angry, but then I think about all of these awesome blessings that we God has provided while so many others around the world need clean water and a three meals per day.

But, oh, does my heart ache.

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one year!

our Small Group is celebrating one year tonight with a Potluck Dinner. I am so excited to celebrate this milestone because God has done so much in our small group – and I am sure He will continue to work in everyone’s lives.

A year ago, I was wondering where this whole Small Group was going to go. I wondered if I was crazy for thinking it was going to work. In one year, we’ve prayed, studied, volunteered in the community, shared meals and tea together, went on a retreat together in Chicago, and had members come and go depending on the seasons in their lives.

I am so blessed to have each of these women in my life. They are a strong support network and have taught me so much.

To the women in the group: Allison, Caroline, Dorothy, Kim, Rose, Tammy and Toni – here’s to another awesome year together!

doing better

today was a little bit better than yesterday night.

Frank was amazing.  I came home from a reception after work and was so hungry that I didn’t know if I wanted to eat now, order food or go out to eat.  On the way home I changed my mind three times.  While Frank may have been tempted to throw up his hands and say “screw this!” – he didn’t.

We went to a nice Mexican restaurant and then stopped at Dominicks and rented He’s Just Not That Into You. Oh, goodness – all of the mistakes I made in my dating life!!  If only I had that movie back then.  But I have to say, I think it all worked out perfectly.  But man – I was an idiot.

Moving on.

I decided to go with snuggling on the couch and renting a rom-com instead of going to the theaters and watching The Time Traveler’s Wife because, well, I sobbed when I read the book.  And considering my fragile hormonal state, why risk it?  Maybe Friday.  Maybe.

The upside: I’ve been drinking more water, so the crying isn’t dehydrating me.  I mean, silver lining on everything, hey?

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emotions, much?

Well, thanks to the fine folks that make progesterone supplements and the delightful prescription that my doc writes me every month, Frank found himself on an all-expenses paid trip to crazyville.  This 8th layer of hell included only myself, crying and leaking snot all over my face.  What did he do to deserve such a horrific punishment?  Well, he was home.  Since I try my hardest to not go crazy all over his a$$ while he’s out of town, and I try not to lose it on vacations – that pretty much only leaves the first night that he is home for me to unload.

Hello, Frank.  Welcome to your worst nightmare.

On tap for tonight we have just a large dose of fertility blues with a side of emotional baggage.  And if you’re interested in dessert, we can certainly arrange for some self-pity a la mode.

What brings on crazy, Emily? I’m going to go with the progesterone supplement I took tonight.  See, all day was fine. Good day. Solid.  I took the supplement when I got home and I was almost in tears watching The Lovely Bones movie trailer with Dor.  And then we watched Chuck, an otherwise upbeat show – and I almost lost it watching Chuck’s sister get married.

The good thing is that I know it’s not entirely me.  I know I would normally be in a lot more control of my feelings.  But man, the thought of doing this for another week, or even doing this for another month – that’s daunting. Especially since I am fighting the urge to compare myself to others – those who have had it easier or those who have had it worse – for either justification of my anger (the former) or comfort (the latter).  And neither is the right answer.

Frank is home, which makes this easier to do than to do it alone.  Thank God for Frank. 🙂

first day

Well, I had my first day today.  It was peachy.  I’m really excited about the position and this afternoon did not disappoint!  I got to sit in on a very interesting meeting that was sort of a baptism-by-fire type situation and I LOVED it. Loved. It.

I realized sitting in the meeting that I felt like I had my life back.  I like the job.  I find it really interesting.  And I am 12 minutes from home in rush-hour traffic (I timed it).  And that is awesome to me.

Did I mention yet that I made myself dinner?  And it involved boiling water – not just pouring milk into a bowl of dry cereal.

::sigh::

I am sure that there will be stressful days and situations.  I am sure there will be late nights (guaranteed at least a few nights a monthwith some after-work hours meeting).  But man, it sure is nice to see this side of 6 pm from my patio and not my desk.

ok, feeling a little better…

a little.

I was going to go to the gym tonight, but decided to go for a run tomorrow morning, first thing.  I want to make morning running/work outs a habit.

So tomorrow is my first day at a new job.  I’m excited about it!  I don’t really know what to expect in the first week, other than lots of paperwork, new people, new processes, new information – well, new everything!  Once I get into it, I know things will fall into place.

It’s only 9:30, but I am already so tired.  I feel like I ran a marathon today!

Two miles in the morning.  here. we. go!