I have a lump in my right breast. Have had it, actually, since last fall. It's a recurrence of a lump that first appeared the fall before that, in 2009.
According to my OB/Gyn, the lump is a fluid-filled cyst. The first time it appeared in 2009 and I mentioned it to him, he aspirated it, meaning HE STUCK A HUGE NEEDLE DIRECTLY IN MY BOOB AND SUCKED THE FLUID OUT. Ouch. He sent the fluid off for testing and it was all apparently benign. The lump went away.
Last fall, it reappeared in the same spot. Out came the big needle again, but this time my doctor was unable to get all the fluid out. He believed there was just this little sac inside my breast that keeps refilling with fluid like a balloon, and since aspirating it didn't work the second time around, he referred me to a surgeon to have the sac surgically removed.
Now, the lump is annoying because it's right to the side of my nipple and I feel it all the time, but since he seemed confident it was all benign and stuff, I put off going to see the surgeon initially. Then my husband had surgery. Then my daughter had surgery. So I put myself last.
This past week, every time I've turned around, I've been reading, seeing, hearing something about cancer-online, on Twitter, on The Moth podcast, etc. I kind of felt like it was a sign I should call the surgeon and get that breast lump taken out, once and for all. Since the lump is apparently benign, I need to get it out of the way, so that if I get other lumps I will notice them.
So, I called the surgeon my doctor recommended and set up an appointment for next week. His assistant asked me if I've had a mammogram. I told her I haven't, as I'm 37, so not quite the age when you normally start getting those done. Then, she directed me to their website to fill out a new patient packet, and while I was there, I looked at the doctor's bio.
He's a breast cancer specialist.
Now, realistically, I know my OB/Gyn was very casual in his referral and didn't act like it was a big deal and they tested the fluid both times the lump appeared and it was benign. And it's understandable the assistant would ask if I've had a mammogram-if I have to have surgery on my breast it makes sense they would want to do one of those. I know. But when she asked that and then I read his bio, I started freaking out. Just a little bit.
So while I'm generally hopeful that I'm in for nothing more than an annoying minor surgery that will leave me with a scar on my right breast, I'm kind of anxious for my appointment on Tuesday. Keep a good thought for me if you will. Because while I could care less about what my boobs look like (they've never been particularly spectacular), or about a minor surgery (although I don't look forward to any kind of pain, even minor!), I just want to get good news and be around for a LONG time.
In the meantime, I'll be here, quietly freaking out.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Saturday, March 26, 2011
One Year Blogiversary! More "Getting to Know You" Random Facts
One year ago today, I launched Glam-O-Mommy. I didn't have a real plan for my blog...I'm just a woman who writes for a corporation for a living who wanted to write about myself, my life, my daughter, and things that interest me. But mostly my feelings about and experiences with motherhood.
Lately, I've been a bit remiss in keeping up with my blog. In December, I was sick or my daughter was sick and my husband had surprise shoulder surgery and the holidays were crazy and I just had no energy left over to give to it. In January, I got assigned to a huge, insane-making project at work and began having less of a work/life balance and more of a working-on-my-Friday-off-and-often-Sunday-nights-just-to-keep-up life and again, I've had no energy left over for the blog.
To top it off, I feel like I'm in a bit of a personal rut. I work, I spend time with my daughter and husband, I do tons of laundry, I try unsuccessfully to keep our house straight and orderly, I sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.
BORED YET? Me too. Doesn't exactly inspire much in the way of insightful writing either. I mean, don't get me wrong...I have a really good life, with many moments of fun and love and beauty and I'm very grateful for all that I have, and yet I just feel like I want a little surprise, a little unpredictability now and then...just something. (Like my last post, about my adventures in San Antonio Snowland-that was unpredictable and surprising and thus, good blog fodder!)
Anyway, for my blogiversary, I thought I would share more "Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You"/Random Facts About Me, for your reading pleasure. In no particular order, here we go:
1. I have three playlists in heavy rotation on my iPod currently: all the songs I buy from Glee, Legally Blonde: The Musical (OMIGOD, you guys have to see it if you haven't-SO GOOD!), and "Children," which consists of the Backyardigans, Yo Gabba Gabba, Sesame Street, Sharon, Lois, and Bram, Laurie Berkner, songs from Mary Poppins, and Three Little Birds by Bob Marley. ("Children" is for my daughter S, obvs.)
2. Last weekend, I got my first mani-pedi in two months (SO not glam). My nails have really been suffering from my lack of time lately right along with my blog (see also: interior of my car). Anyhoo, it was a rainy day, I was reading this lovely book, The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister, and just relaxing. It was pretty much perfect. J and S were at home napping, so I didn't miss out on anything with them either!
3. I used to be addicted to chocolate. Like, I had to eat a little something chocolate EVERY DAY or I could not make it through that day. When I was pregnant, I often indulged in Baskin Robbins Chocolate Fudge Ice Cream Milkshakes, because a) HELLO, PREGNANT, b) MUST HAVE CHOCOLATE, and c) HOT FROM 1,000 DEGREE HEAT IN SAN ANTONIO SUMMER AND DID I MENTION I WAS PREGNANT?! I say "used to be," because the weirdest thing happened about a year ago. I just stopped craving chocolate. I didn't need to have it every day, or even every week. I've sometimes gone weeks without having any! I have no idea how, after 36 years, my body just stopped craving it, but it did. I still eat chocolate occasionally, but I no longer seek it out and go crazy when I do have it.
4. Weirder still, I've begun craving two things alternately in the place of chocolate. For awhile, it was candy, such as Spree or Sweet Tarts or Sour Patch Kids. Then, I switched and began craving chips and salsa. All the time. Like, planning our meals out around which restaurant has the best chips and salsa!
5. In November, we're taking a big family vacation (the three of us, plus the grandparentals!) to Walt Disney World. We're going to spend five days visiting the parks and then a few days and Thanksgiving with my 74-year-old widowed aunt, my mom's sister. I'm super excited, not just because it will be S and J's first visit to WDW, but because it will be my fourth visit and first in 17 years! The grandparentals are coming along to take care of S when she gets tired, but I want to keep going!
6. Next month, my husband and I will have lived in our house for six years. THIS IS THE LONGEST I HAVE EVER LIVED ANYWHERE. Growing up an Air Force brat, I was used to moving every three years. While I love our house, I now seriously have the desire to move, partially because since S's arrival I feel like we need more room, partially because we think we might want to live in a different area when S starts elementary school in two years, but mostly because I have the itch to move and have a new place to decorate and an opportunity to clean out stuff that has been accumulating in our house for six years! And yes, I realize I could just clean out that stuff on my own without moving, but come on! Like I'm going to do that! Silly.
7. I am a picky eater. I do not eat fruits or most vegetables. I am a steak-loving carnivore. I KNOW. Very unhealthy and weird. Now, for the record, I enjoy the flavor of most fruits, but I do not enjoy chewing the texture of fruits. So I drink LOTS of fruit juice instead of eating fruit straight up (I also take vitamins and drink health shakes). Of vegetables, I eat peas and green beans. And that's pretty much it. Again, it's a texture thing. I have been this way as long as I can remember. As a kid, I also did not like pizza or any seafood, but started liking more of these foods in high school. My poor parents, who eat most anything, did not know what to do with me growing up. I special-ordered everywhere we went! And my food things are so crazy, such as I won't eat a tomato (always take it off my burger order) but I love ketchup and salsa.
8. Bananas freak me out. Obviously, I don't eat them (see #7 above). I think my reaction to them is severe because I had a potassium deficiency when I was five and the remedy the doctor prescribed was I had to eat bananas. A LOT OF THEM. My mother had to basically force me to eat them since I didn't like them and it was traumatic for me! Ironically, bananas are my daughter's very favorite food (I should mention my daughter is not a picky eater at all, thank goodness, and my husband and I go out of our way to feed her all kinds of fruits and veggies-bananas, apples, oranges, corn, peas, sweet potatoes, and watermelon are her faves. I want her to be a better eater than me!) When I peel a banana for S and give it to her, I work very hard to look normal and then when I turn to walk away I usually shudder a little and have to wash my hands! LOL
9. I was a Girl Scout for only one year. My mother and my best friend's mother were the co-leaders for our Brownie troop. When both our moms decided not to be troop leaders the next year, my friend and I quit too! I don't think I was really cut out for Girl Scouts, as I'm what you call "Naturally Indoorsy."
10. I've informed my husband recently that we are going to Paris in Spring 2013. I will be turning 40 then (EEK!) and S will start Kindergarten that fall, so it will be our last time to do a big trip during a school year and avoid crowds. And I love Paris and I will be turning 40 (OMIGOD!), so we have to go! We're doing Disney this year and our big trip next year will be Canada, since we go there every other year to visit my husband's family, and I haven't been to Paris since 2002 (our honeymoon in 2004 does not count, as we flew in to Paris and took a train from the airport directly to Lyon-hubby didn't even plan for us to spend a day in Paris because I'd already been there twice!). Really, I want to go spend a few days in Paris and then take a train and visit some other areas of France. Mostly, I want to take S to another continent...I was lucky to live in England when I was her age and think it's great for her to get exposure to other cultures while she's young.
So that's enough randomness for now. If you have read my blog randomly or regularly this year, I thank you and hope you'll comment from time to time. If you have commented on anything on my blog, I've really enjoyed our interactions!
So to help me celebrate my blogiversary, please tell me about yourself! What's in heavy rotation on your iPod? What's the best book you've read lately? Any weird food habits? Planning any dream vacations? I really want to know!!
Glam-O-Mommy and S
Lately, I've been a bit remiss in keeping up with my blog. In December, I was sick or my daughter was sick and my husband had surprise shoulder surgery and the holidays were crazy and I just had no energy left over to give to it. In January, I got assigned to a huge, insane-making project at work and began having less of a work/life balance and more of a working-on-my-Friday-off-and-often-Sunday-nights-just-to-keep-up life and again, I've had no energy left over for the blog.
To top it off, I feel like I'm in a bit of a personal rut. I work, I spend time with my daughter and husband, I do tons of laundry, I try unsuccessfully to keep our house straight and orderly, I sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.
BORED YET? Me too. Doesn't exactly inspire much in the way of insightful writing either. I mean, don't get me wrong...I have a really good life, with many moments of fun and love and beauty and I'm very grateful for all that I have, and yet I just feel like I want a little surprise, a little unpredictability now and then...just something. (Like my last post, about my adventures in San Antonio Snowland-that was unpredictable and surprising and thus, good blog fodder!)
Anyway, for my blogiversary, I thought I would share more "Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You"/Random Facts About Me, for your reading pleasure. In no particular order, here we go:
1. I have three playlists in heavy rotation on my iPod currently: all the songs I buy from Glee, Legally Blonde: The Musical (OMIGOD, you guys have to see it if you haven't-SO GOOD!), and "Children," which consists of the Backyardigans, Yo Gabba Gabba, Sesame Street, Sharon, Lois, and Bram, Laurie Berkner, songs from Mary Poppins, and Three Little Birds by Bob Marley. ("Children" is for my daughter S, obvs.)
2. Last weekend, I got my first mani-pedi in two months (SO not glam). My nails have really been suffering from my lack of time lately right along with my blog (see also: interior of my car). Anyhoo, it was a rainy day, I was reading this lovely book, The School of Essential Ingredients by Erica Bauermeister, and just relaxing. It was pretty much perfect. J and S were at home napping, so I didn't miss out on anything with them either!
3. I used to be addicted to chocolate. Like, I had to eat a little something chocolate EVERY DAY or I could not make it through that day. When I was pregnant, I often indulged in Baskin Robbins Chocolate Fudge Ice Cream Milkshakes, because a) HELLO, PREGNANT, b) MUST HAVE CHOCOLATE, and c) HOT FROM 1,000 DEGREE HEAT IN SAN ANTONIO SUMMER AND DID I MENTION I WAS PREGNANT?! I say "used to be," because the weirdest thing happened about a year ago. I just stopped craving chocolate. I didn't need to have it every day, or even every week. I've sometimes gone weeks without having any! I have no idea how, after 36 years, my body just stopped craving it, but it did. I still eat chocolate occasionally, but I no longer seek it out and go crazy when I do have it.
4. Weirder still, I've begun craving two things alternately in the place of chocolate. For awhile, it was candy, such as Spree or Sweet Tarts or Sour Patch Kids. Then, I switched and began craving chips and salsa. All the time. Like, planning our meals out around which restaurant has the best chips and salsa!
5. In November, we're taking a big family vacation (the three of us, plus the grandparentals!) to Walt Disney World. We're going to spend five days visiting the parks and then a few days and Thanksgiving with my 74-year-old widowed aunt, my mom's sister. I'm super excited, not just because it will be S and J's first visit to WDW, but because it will be my fourth visit and first in 17 years! The grandparentals are coming along to take care of S when she gets tired, but I want to keep going!
6. Next month, my husband and I will have lived in our house for six years. THIS IS THE LONGEST I HAVE EVER LIVED ANYWHERE. Growing up an Air Force brat, I was used to moving every three years. While I love our house, I now seriously have the desire to move, partially because since S's arrival I feel like we need more room, partially because we think we might want to live in a different area when S starts elementary school in two years, but mostly because I have the itch to move and have a new place to decorate and an opportunity to clean out stuff that has been accumulating in our house for six years! And yes, I realize I could just clean out that stuff on my own without moving, but come on! Like I'm going to do that! Silly.
7. I am a picky eater. I do not eat fruits or most vegetables. I am a steak-loving carnivore. I KNOW. Very unhealthy and weird. Now, for the record, I enjoy the flavor of most fruits, but I do not enjoy chewing the texture of fruits. So I drink LOTS of fruit juice instead of eating fruit straight up (I also take vitamins and drink health shakes). Of vegetables, I eat peas and green beans. And that's pretty much it. Again, it's a texture thing. I have been this way as long as I can remember. As a kid, I also did not like pizza or any seafood, but started liking more of these foods in high school. My poor parents, who eat most anything, did not know what to do with me growing up. I special-ordered everywhere we went! And my food things are so crazy, such as I won't eat a tomato (always take it off my burger order) but I love ketchup and salsa.
8. Bananas freak me out. Obviously, I don't eat them (see #7 above). I think my reaction to them is severe because I had a potassium deficiency when I was five and the remedy the doctor prescribed was I had to eat bananas. A LOT OF THEM. My mother had to basically force me to eat them since I didn't like them and it was traumatic for me! Ironically, bananas are my daughter's very favorite food (I should mention my daughter is not a picky eater at all, thank goodness, and my husband and I go out of our way to feed her all kinds of fruits and veggies-bananas, apples, oranges, corn, peas, sweet potatoes, and watermelon are her faves. I want her to be a better eater than me!) When I peel a banana for S and give it to her, I work very hard to look normal and then when I turn to walk away I usually shudder a little and have to wash my hands! LOL
9. I was a Girl Scout for only one year. My mother and my best friend's mother were the co-leaders for our Brownie troop. When both our moms decided not to be troop leaders the next year, my friend and I quit too! I don't think I was really cut out for Girl Scouts, as I'm what you call "Naturally Indoorsy."
10. I've informed my husband recently that we are going to Paris in Spring 2013. I will be turning 40 then (EEK!) and S will start Kindergarten that fall, so it will be our last time to do a big trip during a school year and avoid crowds. And I love Paris and I will be turning 40 (OMIGOD!), so we have to go! We're doing Disney this year and our big trip next year will be Canada, since we go there every other year to visit my husband's family, and I haven't been to Paris since 2002 (our honeymoon in 2004 does not count, as we flew in to Paris and took a train from the airport directly to Lyon-hubby didn't even plan for us to spend a day in Paris because I'd already been there twice!). Really, I want to go spend a few days in Paris and then take a train and visit some other areas of France. Mostly, I want to take S to another continent...I was lucky to live in England when I was her age and think it's great for her to get exposure to other cultures while she's young.
First night of our honeymoon, Lyon, France 2004-we look so young and happy!
So that's enough randomness for now. If you have read my blog randomly or regularly this year, I thank you and hope you'll comment from time to time. If you have commented on anything on my blog, I've really enjoyed our interactions!
So to help me celebrate my blogiversary, please tell me about yourself! What's in heavy rotation on your iPod? What's the best book you've read lately? Any weird food habits? Planning any dream vacations? I really want to know!!
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Sometimes I Think I've Got This Motherhood Thing Figured Out...
At the beginning of February, I was really proud of myself as a mother. I was also proud of my daughter, S, and how we were together as a team, traveling alone to Phoenix for the weekend to visit my girlfriends from college.
Before I get to why I was proud, I should back up to explain how things were going in Glam-O-Mommy land shortly prior to the trip. S, a heretofore pretty easygoing and sweet kid, had suddenly entered full on into the Terrible Twos. She started hitting me when I told her "no" or when she was mad about something. She also tried scratching me and throwing things. It was terrible. When I booked our Phoenix trip, she was not acting remotely like this, so I was all freaked out, expecting her to be terrible on the trip and make an awful impression on my friends. And stress me out!
Enter the Supernanny
My husband and I began employing the Supernanny "naughty step" concept right away and it definitely worked. The first time she hit or scratched or threw something, we warned her, and if she did it again, we took her to the step, told her why she was there, asked her if she was sorry, made her say it, gave her a hug, and then moved on. At the start, we had to do it multiple times, but then it began nipping the problem in the bud the first time we put her on it.
Still, I was worried. In Phoenix, we were going to see my friends J and R. J is single and does not have children. R is married with four children ages five and below (five-year-old twin girls, a three-year-old girl, and a seven-month-old boy). We were going to be staying with R and her family. A few weeks before the trip, I tried to warn R that I wasn't sure how S was going to be during our visit because of her recent behavior. R immediately began laughing, saying, "Seriously, there's nothing she can do that I haven't already seen with one of my kids! Don't worry--she'll be fine!"
Threat of Snow
The week before we left for Phoenix was extraordinarily cold for San Antonio, with temperatures below freezing and wind chill in the teens. We were leaving on a 9 a.m. flight on Friday morning, direct to Phoenix on Southwest Airlines. All week, the forecasters in San Antonio were predicting snow and ice for Friday morning. If snow fell, this would be a problem, because if San Antonio sees one eensy snow flurry, it says, "HELL TO THE NO!" and completely shuts down the highways and everything else.
However, I was not worried. San Antonio had not seen significant snowfall since 1985. Every other time in recent years they've predicted snow, a warm front came in at the last minute and it didn't snow. I finished packing Thursday night and went to bed, confident all was well.
Needing to be at the airport by 7 a.m. for a 9 a.m. flight, I awoke a little before 5 a.m. to discover that SNOW HAD FALLEN AND EVERY HIGHWAY IN SAN ANTONIO WAS CLOSED.
My flight, however, had not been cancelled and was on time. Most people would've just given up and gone back to bed. I, however, REALLY wanted to go see my friends. Also, I'm married to a Canadian, who's used to driving in icy conditions, unlike everyone else native to San Antonio. So I kept one eye on the airport flight board online, an ear on the traffic report, and continued getting ready.
At 6:30, we bundled S up, got in the car, eased down our icy driveway, and began our slow pilgrimage to the airport, taking highway access roads, and detours along the way. In several spots, we had to stop and turn around and try another route because the few other idiots besides us out on the roads had no idea what they were doing and were sliding around all over the place. My husband=AWESOME WINTER DRIVER. He would just wait, watch them slide into a curb, ease around them, and keep going, slowly, but surely.
Adventure at the Airport
At 8:30, we pulled into the airport (it's normally a 25-minute drive). I had been checking my flight by phone and it had been delayed till 10:30, but that didn't bother me. We checked in, kissed hubs goodbye and wished him luck on drive home, easily went through security, and headed to our gate. I wanted to get our stroller tagged first and then grab breakfast.
While getting the stroller tagged, I double-checked that 10:30 was now our takeoff time. The woman helping me sighed and said we'd be lucky to get out at 10:30, because while flights were taking off from San Antonio without problems, our plane was coming from Dallas, which was essentially snowed in. That's when I knew this was going to be a real test of my mothering skills!
S and I got breakfast and for the next two hours, we explored every inch of the terminal, walking up and down, visiting every bathroom, and pointing out colors and pictures on the wall, back and forth, up and down, always moving. When we would stop and take a break and sit at the gate, I immediately broke out the big guns from the bag of tricks I had been saving to entertain her on the plane--her Fisher Price iXL book, which keeps her engrossed for a long time, colors, new books, and snacks. Some Southwest flight attendants gave her a little color pack from Southwest and some of their plane-shaped crackers, which was nice. When she got antsy, we began to pace the terminal looking at everything again, and again, and again.
At 10:30, they pushed our flight back to 11:15. At 11:15, they pushed it to 1:15. OMG, I thought...how will I ever keep her entertained and happy for two more hours?!?! I went back up to the gate attendant to see what she really thought our chances were for leaving town at some point. My husband was already offering to trek back to the airport to get us, since the roads were starting to re-open.
Luckily, I was informed they had cancelled the flight coming from Dallas, but a plane was coming from Phoenix and would land at 12:30...they would put our flight on that plane and send us right back to Phoenix. WE HAD A REAL PLANE.
Two more hours, I thought. So far she hasn't had a meltdown and neither have I. Can we do this? R, who I had been texting updates to all morning, called, concerned. "Are you going to make it?! That's a long time with a toddler at the airport!" "We're going to try!" I said.
So, off we went to have our second meal in the airport, pizza. I convinced S to climb into the stroller afterwards and rolled her up and down the terminal twice. Then, a fellow traveler mouthed, "She's OUT!" And she was. She slept soundly for the next hour and a half until we actually boarded the plane and took off!
She was a peach on the relatively short flight to Phoenix. When we landed at 3:15 p.m. Phoenix time (only five hours after our original arrival time), R picked us up at baggage claim (her husband was home with their kids). I got S settled into the car seat and R handed her a juice box. Then, she handed me a cup. I took a sip: RUM AND COKE!
"I thought you might need it after today," R said. BEST. FRIEND. EVER. "You know, neither of us had a meltdown or remotely lost it all day today," I said. "I'm proud of us!"
Weekend in Phoenix
We had a great weekend with R and her family and our friend J, who came over and spent the night with us too. S just walked in like she'd always known everyone and played wonderfully with R's kids and handled the time change/sleeping in a new place great.
R, J, and I became friends 20 years ago, our first year of college, and seeing our kids together was just fantastically cool (we so hope J will have one to add to our group someday). I think R is a rock star mom for how wonderfully she balances four children; R told me she was impressed with how I handled S the whole time and how well behaved she was (I only had to put her on the naughty step once), which is always nice to hear.
Too soon, it was Sunday afternoon and we were back at the airport. Thankfully, we experienced no delays, S was entertained by riding the moving sidewalk while we waited and didn't mind airport pizza for lunch. Again. She was pretty good on the plane, only throwing a slight pout fit when we had to wait to get off the plane at the end. I didn't chip a tooth the way I did the last time S and I flew alone together. SUCCESS!
All in all, I came away from the weekend confident, feeling like I had this whole motherhood thing figured out...
And then, the rest of February happened...which involved a re-appearance of S, the Terrible Two Toddler Edition of before, which has left me wanting to tear my hair out lately. (My daughter made me cry last Saturday. TWICE.)
But I'll always have my Snow Day/Weekend in Phoenix.
Before I get to why I was proud, I should back up to explain how things were going in Glam-O-Mommy land shortly prior to the trip. S, a heretofore pretty easygoing and sweet kid, had suddenly entered full on into the Terrible Twos. She started hitting me when I told her "no" or when she was mad about something. She also tried scratching me and throwing things. It was terrible. When I booked our Phoenix trip, she was not acting remotely like this, so I was all freaked out, expecting her to be terrible on the trip and make an awful impression on my friends. And stress me out!
Enter the Supernanny
My husband and I began employing the Supernanny "naughty step" concept right away and it definitely worked. The first time she hit or scratched or threw something, we warned her, and if she did it again, we took her to the step, told her why she was there, asked her if she was sorry, made her say it, gave her a hug, and then moved on. At the start, we had to do it multiple times, but then it began nipping the problem in the bud the first time we put her on it.
Still, I was worried. In Phoenix, we were going to see my friends J and R. J is single and does not have children. R is married with four children ages five and below (five-year-old twin girls, a three-year-old girl, and a seven-month-old boy). We were going to be staying with R and her family. A few weeks before the trip, I tried to warn R that I wasn't sure how S was going to be during our visit because of her recent behavior. R immediately began laughing, saying, "Seriously, there's nothing she can do that I haven't already seen with one of my kids! Don't worry--she'll be fine!"
Threat of Snow
The week before we left for Phoenix was extraordinarily cold for San Antonio, with temperatures below freezing and wind chill in the teens. We were leaving on a 9 a.m. flight on Friday morning, direct to Phoenix on Southwest Airlines. All week, the forecasters in San Antonio were predicting snow and ice for Friday morning. If snow fell, this would be a problem, because if San Antonio sees one eensy snow flurry, it says, "HELL TO THE NO!" and completely shuts down the highways and everything else.
However, I was not worried. San Antonio had not seen significant snowfall since 1985. Every other time in recent years they've predicted snow, a warm front came in at the last minute and it didn't snow. I finished packing Thursday night and went to bed, confident all was well.
Needing to be at the airport by 7 a.m. for a 9 a.m. flight, I awoke a little before 5 a.m. to discover that SNOW HAD FALLEN AND EVERY HIGHWAY IN SAN ANTONIO WAS CLOSED.
My flight, however, had not been cancelled and was on time. Most people would've just given up and gone back to bed. I, however, REALLY wanted to go see my friends. Also, I'm married to a Canadian, who's used to driving in icy conditions, unlike everyone else native to San Antonio. So I kept one eye on the airport flight board online, an ear on the traffic report, and continued getting ready.
At 6:30, we bundled S up, got in the car, eased down our icy driveway, and began our slow pilgrimage to the airport, taking highway access roads, and detours along the way. In several spots, we had to stop and turn around and try another route because the few other idiots besides us out on the roads had no idea what they were doing and were sliding around all over the place. My husband=AWESOME WINTER DRIVER. He would just wait, watch them slide into a curb, ease around them, and keep going, slowly, but surely.
S in the snow at the San Antonio airport
Adventure at the Airport
At 8:30, we pulled into the airport (it's normally a 25-minute drive). I had been checking my flight by phone and it had been delayed till 10:30, but that didn't bother me. We checked in, kissed hubs goodbye and wished him luck on drive home, easily went through security, and headed to our gate. I wanted to get our stroller tagged first and then grab breakfast.
While getting the stroller tagged, I double-checked that 10:30 was now our takeoff time. The woman helping me sighed and said we'd be lucky to get out at 10:30, because while flights were taking off from San Antonio without problems, our plane was coming from Dallas, which was essentially snowed in. That's when I knew this was going to be a real test of my mothering skills!
S and I got breakfast and for the next two hours, we explored every inch of the terminal, walking up and down, visiting every bathroom, and pointing out colors and pictures on the wall, back and forth, up and down, always moving. When we would stop and take a break and sit at the gate, I immediately broke out the big guns from the bag of tricks I had been saving to entertain her on the plane--her Fisher Price iXL book, which keeps her engrossed for a long time, colors, new books, and snacks. Some Southwest flight attendants gave her a little color pack from Southwest and some of their plane-shaped crackers, which was nice. When she got antsy, we began to pace the terminal looking at everything again, and again, and again.
S named the colors on the terminal floor OVER and OVER
At 10:30, they pushed our flight back to 11:15. At 11:15, they pushed it to 1:15. OMG, I thought...how will I ever keep her entertained and happy for two more hours?!?! I went back up to the gate attendant to see what she really thought our chances were for leaving town at some point. My husband was already offering to trek back to the airport to get us, since the roads were starting to re-open.
Luckily, I was informed they had cancelled the flight coming from Dallas, but a plane was coming from Phoenix and would land at 12:30...they would put our flight on that plane and send us right back to Phoenix. WE HAD A REAL PLANE.
Two more hours, I thought. So far she hasn't had a meltdown and neither have I. Can we do this? R, who I had been texting updates to all morning, called, concerned. "Are you going to make it?! That's a long time with a toddler at the airport!" "We're going to try!" I said.
So, off we went to have our second meal in the airport, pizza. I convinced S to climb into the stroller afterwards and rolled her up and down the terminal twice. Then, a fellow traveler mouthed, "She's OUT!" And she was. She slept soundly for the next hour and a half until we actually boarded the plane and took off!
We're on the plane!
She was a peach on the relatively short flight to Phoenix. When we landed at 3:15 p.m. Phoenix time (only five hours after our original arrival time), R picked us up at baggage claim (her husband was home with their kids). I got S settled into the car seat and R handed her a juice box. Then, she handed me a cup. I took a sip: RUM AND COKE!
"I thought you might need it after today," R said. BEST. FRIEND. EVER. "You know, neither of us had a meltdown or remotely lost it all day today," I said. "I'm proud of us!"
Weekend in Phoenix
We had a great weekend with R and her family and our friend J, who came over and spent the night with us too. S just walked in like she'd always known everyone and played wonderfully with R's kids and handled the time change/sleeping in a new place great.
Trying to imitate the big girls
Little ladies who lunch
J teaches S how to bat
R, Me, J
Too soon, it was Sunday afternoon and we were back at the airport. Thankfully, we experienced no delays, S was entertained by riding the moving sidewalk while we waited and didn't mind airport pizza for lunch. Again. She was pretty good on the plane, only throwing a slight pout fit when we had to wait to get off the plane at the end. I didn't chip a tooth the way I did the last time S and I flew alone together. SUCCESS!
All in all, I came away from the weekend confident, feeling like I had this whole motherhood thing figured out...
And then, the rest of February happened...which involved a re-appearance of S, the Terrible Two Toddler Edition of before, which has left me wanting to tear my hair out lately. (My daughter made me cry last Saturday. TWICE.)
But I'll always have my Snow Day/Weekend in Phoenix.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
True Confession: I Never Wanted to Breastfeed
I have confessed this once on my blog before. I did not breastfeed my daughter. I did not even try. And I am not ashamed of this fact.
That said, generally, I do not shout this off the rooftops. When I was pregnant and talking to someone and they would begin talking about "when you breastfeed," automatically assuming that I was going to, I did not correct them. I just smiled blithely and moved on to another subject. I've never wanted to get into a debate with someone over breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding, because I don't think that's necessary.
The truth is, some women want to breastfeed. Some women LOVE breastfeeding. Some hate it, but do it anyway. Some women want to breastfeed and try and cannot, for whatever reason. Some women have to pump exclusively for whatever reason, and they do that, no matter how hard it is.
And then there are those of us, I imagine it's a VERY small minority, who have no interest in it at all.
That was me.
I just never saw myself breastfeeding. I had no desire to do it. It seemed a little weird to me. Also, I'm the person who goes into the stall to change clothes at the gym, so there was no way I was ever going to be one of those people breastfeeding in front of others, covered or not. And I wanted my husband to share fully in the feeding as he would in all the other baby-related duties.
Since I was born in the 70s, at a time women were encouraged to use formula, my mother did not breastfeed either, so I did not get any pressure to breastfeed from her. She always talked about how great it was that my dad could give me a bottle while she made the two of them dinner when he came home from work and how they would pass me around to family members to feed when they went home to visit their parents and siblings every weekend.
My mother also told me that her mother, who breastfed nine children and then did formula with baby number 10 for some reason, told her that she wished she would've been able to do that with all 10 babies--it was so much easier.
Apparently the women in my family aren't natural earth mothers. :)
Although I had no desire to breastfeed, I did consider it when I became pregnant, mostly because my husband, who is much more natural and earthy than me (I attribute this to his Canadian-ness), thought I should. I thought, okay, maybe I could do it just for the first few weeks to give my daughter all those antibodies and such they talk about and then switch to formula.
So, on one of our OB visits, I asked my doctor, who I've been going to since I was in high school and trust implicitly, about this first few weeks' idea.
"You're going back to work, right?" he asked me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, unless you're really going to commit to breastfeeding for at least a few months, I wouldn't recommend starting it then moving on from it so quickly...better just to do formula from the start," he replied.
I have to admit, I was pretty surprised at his answer, but since I didn't really want to breastfeed anyway, it was fine by me.
But the final nail in the coffin on any thoughts I had around potentially breastfeeding came when I researched the medicines I take and if they would be safe to take while breastfeeding.
One, my migraine pill, was not. And that was all I had to hear.
I've suffered from horrific migraines for years. Most of my migraines are triggered by hormonal changes. Without medication, I cannot function. At all. I cannot think, I have to be in dark rooms because light bothers me, and I get so nauseous I throw up.
I was not allowed to take my migraine medication while I was pregnant, and I suffered two three-day-long migraines in the first trimester, when hormones are all over the place, that were so awful and debilitating, I felt like I wanted to die. I also threw up for the first time in my pregnancy (the only other time I threw up while pregnant was when I was in labor!).
With those two awful medication-free pregnancy migraines fresh in my mind, I considered how I would fare as a new mother if I could not take my medication and was struck with a migraine while caring for my baby. And I knew I could not. I needed to be able to take my medication and have the migraine go away fairly quickly so I could be a good mom.
So that became my "good for the public" excuse for not breastfeeding. That was how I got anyone questioning my decision off my back. And it is a very valid excuse and I stand by it.
But the plain truth is, I never wanted to breastfeed anyway.
When my daughter was born, after I held and snuggled with her for a bit, they were going to take her off to the nursery for a checkup and a bath and a bottle. Since I wasn't breastfeeding, the nurses wouldn't let me give her a bottle before they took her away, they said they were going to do that in the nursery, which I have to say, seemed kind of mean--they couldn't hand me a bottle of formula? I felt like I was being punished here a little for my choice not to breastfeed.
However, since we had already planned for my husband to go to the nursery with our daughter and take pictures of her first bath, I requested that they let him give her the first bottle and they did. It was pretty special for my husband to get to be the first to feed her, since I had done most of the nurturing up to this point. :)
This was my daughter's first feeding at home on the third day of her life.
My husband and I both wanted to do it!
For the first four months of her life until she went into daycare, my daughter was never sick. And I didn't keep her at home in a cocoon--we went out to eat, over to visit friends and the grandparentals, to the mall, all over. She was extremely healthy.
The end of her first week in daycare she had a cold and an ear infection. I felt extremely guilty about putting her in daycare and exposing her to all those germs. But all the babies had some cold, infection, or illness, even the babies whose mothers came and breastfed them on their lunch breaks while I was there feeding my daughter her bottle on my lunch break.
I felt more guilty about going back to work and exposing her to daycare germs than I ever did about not breastfeeding.
But, as I do on many topics, I support every woman's personal choice in this matter. If you want to breastfeed, I support you. If you pump exclusively, I support you. If you, like me, do not want to breastfeed, I support you. If you cannot breastfeed and want to get milk from a milk bank for your baby, I support you.
My husband mentioned this news story to me recently, about women going to milk banks to get milk for their babies, and was surprised when I had no problem with it. I guess since I had been pretty strident about not breastfeeding myself, I gave him the impression I thought breastfeeding was wrong. And I really don't! It just wasn't right for me.
I have friends who have breastfed their babies, and those who wanted to but have not been able to, and I did not. All of us made the right choices for ourselves and our babies. It would be nice if we could all support each other and our individual choices.
That said, generally, I do not shout this off the rooftops. When I was pregnant and talking to someone and they would begin talking about "when you breastfeed," automatically assuming that I was going to, I did not correct them. I just smiled blithely and moved on to another subject. I've never wanted to get into a debate with someone over breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding, because I don't think that's necessary.
The truth is, some women want to breastfeed. Some women LOVE breastfeeding. Some hate it, but do it anyway. Some women want to breastfeed and try and cannot, for whatever reason. Some women have to pump exclusively for whatever reason, and they do that, no matter how hard it is.
And then there are those of us, I imagine it's a VERY small minority, who have no interest in it at all.
That was me.
I just never saw myself breastfeeding. I had no desire to do it. It seemed a little weird to me. Also, I'm the person who goes into the stall to change clothes at the gym, so there was no way I was ever going to be one of those people breastfeeding in front of others, covered or not. And I wanted my husband to share fully in the feeding as he would in all the other baby-related duties.
Since I was born in the 70s, at a time women were encouraged to use formula, my mother did not breastfeed either, so I did not get any pressure to breastfeed from her. She always talked about how great it was that my dad could give me a bottle while she made the two of them dinner when he came home from work and how they would pass me around to family members to feed when they went home to visit their parents and siblings every weekend.
My mother also told me that her mother, who breastfed nine children and then did formula with baby number 10 for some reason, told her that she wished she would've been able to do that with all 10 babies--it was so much easier.
Apparently the women in my family aren't natural earth mothers. :)
Although I had no desire to breastfeed, I did consider it when I became pregnant, mostly because my husband, who is much more natural and earthy than me (I attribute this to his Canadian-ness), thought I should. I thought, okay, maybe I could do it just for the first few weeks to give my daughter all those antibodies and such they talk about and then switch to formula.
So, on one of our OB visits, I asked my doctor, who I've been going to since I was in high school and trust implicitly, about this first few weeks' idea.
"You're going back to work, right?" he asked me.
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, unless you're really going to commit to breastfeeding for at least a few months, I wouldn't recommend starting it then moving on from it so quickly...better just to do formula from the start," he replied.
I have to admit, I was pretty surprised at his answer, but since I didn't really want to breastfeed anyway, it was fine by me.
But the final nail in the coffin on any thoughts I had around potentially breastfeeding came when I researched the medicines I take and if they would be safe to take while breastfeeding.
One, my migraine pill, was not. And that was all I had to hear.
I've suffered from horrific migraines for years. Most of my migraines are triggered by hormonal changes. Without medication, I cannot function. At all. I cannot think, I have to be in dark rooms because light bothers me, and I get so nauseous I throw up.
I was not allowed to take my migraine medication while I was pregnant, and I suffered two three-day-long migraines in the first trimester, when hormones are all over the place, that were so awful and debilitating, I felt like I wanted to die. I also threw up for the first time in my pregnancy (the only other time I threw up while pregnant was when I was in labor!).
With those two awful medication-free pregnancy migraines fresh in my mind, I considered how I would fare as a new mother if I could not take my medication and was struck with a migraine while caring for my baby. And I knew I could not. I needed to be able to take my medication and have the migraine go away fairly quickly so I could be a good mom.
So that became my "good for the public" excuse for not breastfeeding. That was how I got anyone questioning my decision off my back. And it is a very valid excuse and I stand by it.
But the plain truth is, I never wanted to breastfeed anyway.
When my daughter was born, after I held and snuggled with her for a bit, they were going to take her off to the nursery for a checkup and a bath and a bottle. Since I wasn't breastfeeding, the nurses wouldn't let me give her a bottle before they took her away, they said they were going to do that in the nursery, which I have to say, seemed kind of mean--they couldn't hand me a bottle of formula? I felt like I was being punished here a little for my choice not to breastfeed.
However, since we had already planned for my husband to go to the nursery with our daughter and take pictures of her first bath, I requested that they let him give her the first bottle and they did. It was pretty special for my husband to get to be the first to feed her, since I had done most of the nurturing up to this point. :)
This was my daughter's first feeding at home on the third day of her life.
My husband and I both wanted to do it!
For the first four months of her life until she went into daycare, my daughter was never sick. And I didn't keep her at home in a cocoon--we went out to eat, over to visit friends and the grandparentals, to the mall, all over. She was extremely healthy.
The end of her first week in daycare she had a cold and an ear infection. I felt extremely guilty about putting her in daycare and exposing her to all those germs. But all the babies had some cold, infection, or illness, even the babies whose mothers came and breastfed them on their lunch breaks while I was there feeding my daughter her bottle on my lunch break.
I felt more guilty about going back to work and exposing her to daycare germs than I ever did about not breastfeeding.
But, as I do on many topics, I support every woman's personal choice in this matter. If you want to breastfeed, I support you. If you pump exclusively, I support you. If you, like me, do not want to breastfeed, I support you. If you cannot breastfeed and want to get milk from a milk bank for your baby, I support you.
My husband mentioned this news story to me recently, about women going to milk banks to get milk for their babies, and was surprised when I had no problem with it. I guess since I had been pretty strident about not breastfeeding myself, I gave him the impression I thought breastfeeding was wrong. And I really don't! It just wasn't right for me.
I have friends who have breastfed their babies, and those who wanted to but have not been able to, and I did not. All of us made the right choices for ourselves and our babies. It would be nice if we could all support each other and our individual choices.
Friday, December 31, 2010
What I Wish for 2011
I'm not a huge fan of New Year's resolutions (I have two standard ones: lose a little weight, exercise a little more--that's pretty much it.)
Rather, I'd like to think ahead to what I wish for 2011.
First, I wish for good health for all my family and friends, especially my husband, who went from never having surgery to having two in one year. The first one, back in July, was more scary and potentially life-threatening, but both have been tough on him and on all of us as he tries to get back to normal. Please let him have a healthy year this coming year!
Second, I wish for more time...time for fun with my daughter, time for myself to unwind and be pampered a little, time for reconnecting as a couple with my husband, time savored with my parents, and time spent catching up with good friends.
Third, world peace. That would be pretty awesome. :)
Fourth, a few fun adventures with my family. This last year, we visited family in Florida, Canada, Alabama, and spent a week on Survivor--I mean, in Jamaica--on vacation. In February, I'm taking my daughter to Arizona to visit my two best friends from college. One is single and the other is married with four children under the age of five (guess which one we're staying with LOL), so the weekend will definitely be an adventure! We don't have anything else planned at the moment, but I'm excited to think about where 2011 can take us.
That's really it...2010 has not been a horrible year. After all, it's the year my daughter learned to spell her name, count to 15, talk in more complete sentences, give hugs and kisses, answer the phone, use a computer, and swim like a fish! It's the first year she could wear her hair in pigtails and appreciate a pretty outfit as she did tonight, saying "That's cute!"
Rather, I'd like to think ahead to what I wish for 2011.
First, I wish for good health for all my family and friends, especially my husband, who went from never having surgery to having two in one year. The first one, back in July, was more scary and potentially life-threatening, but both have been tough on him and on all of us as he tries to get back to normal. Please let him have a healthy year this coming year!
Second, I wish for more time...time for fun with my daughter, time for myself to unwind and be pampered a little, time for reconnecting as a couple with my husband, time savored with my parents, and time spent catching up with good friends.
Third, world peace. That would be pretty awesome. :)
Fourth, a few fun adventures with my family. This last year, we visited family in Florida, Canada, Alabama, and spent a week on Survivor--I mean, in Jamaica--on vacation. In February, I'm taking my daughter to Arizona to visit my two best friends from college. One is single and the other is married with four children under the age of five (guess which one we're staying with LOL), so the weekend will definitely be an adventure! We don't have anything else planned at the moment, but I'm excited to think about where 2011 can take us.
That's really it...2010 has not been a horrible year. After all, it's the year my daughter learned to spell her name, count to 15, talk in more complete sentences, give hugs and kisses, answer the phone, use a computer, and swim like a fish! It's the first year she could wear her hair in pigtails and appreciate a pretty outfit as she did tonight, saying "That's cute!"
My daughter proclaimed this outfit "Cute"! Future Glam-O-Mommy, I hope!
This is my daughter with one of her potential future husbands--my friend's son.
She's looking a little less glam after spilling juice down her shirt at dinner this evening
at our "Early New Year's Eve Party" aka "New Year's Eve With Small Children
That Ends by 10!"
She's looking a little less glam after spilling juice down her shirt at dinner this evening
at our "Early New Year's Eve Party" aka "New Year's Eve With Small Children
That Ends by 10!"
Happy New Year everyone!
Friday, December 24, 2010
We Need a Little Christmas, Right This Very Minute
It's been a rough two weeks around my house.
I had a raging case of strep throat for three days last week, just as my husband was visiting an orthopedic specialist and finding out he was going to have to have surgery on the shoulder he slammed into the boards playing hockey a few weeks ago. As in, surgery RIGHT NOW. So just as I was getting over strep, I was suddenly caring for my now-completely helpless husband (because of course it's his right shoulder and he's right-handed--he's not even allowed to tie his shoes right now!) and my toddler who has also been a little under the weather with a sinus infection.
I had to cancel a Christmas playdate I was supposed to host for my friends and their children. I also had to miss taking my daughter to see the Nutcracker for the first time. Boo!
Already behind at work due to my own illness, I'm now getting farther behind because I have to shuttle my husband everywhere (appointments, twice-weekly physical therapy) and I have no one to share the school dropoff/pickup load. I had planned on taking all of next week off, but now plan to work at least three days to try and catch up. Boo!
So we NEED a little Christmas, right this very minute! I feel pretty unprepared for Christmas and certainly would've done more if illness hadn't felled me last week; however, I find myself really looking forward to the next two days despite my exhaustion. On Christmas Eve, we read the Christmas story, open gifts, and eat a little buffet dinner with my parents at their house, then on Christmas morning, we open Santa gifts at our house and then host Christmas dinner for my parents.
I need just a few things for it to feel like Christmas: (1) To hear "Thistlehair, the Christmas Bear" by Alabama, (2) To drink lime sherbet punch, which we have on Christmas Eve every year, and (3) To hang out with my husband, daughter, and parents. So I am sure by tomorrow night, I will feel the Christmas spirit very strongly!
What do you need for it to feel like Christmas?
I really only have one Christmas wish this year: for everyone in my family to have good health and happiness in the year to come. Especially my husband, who went from never having surgery to having two in the span of five months.
Merry, merry Christmas to all of you and your families!
I had a raging case of strep throat for three days last week, just as my husband was visiting an orthopedic specialist and finding out he was going to have to have surgery on the shoulder he slammed into the boards playing hockey a few weeks ago. As in, surgery RIGHT NOW. So just as I was getting over strep, I was suddenly caring for my now-completely helpless husband (because of course it's his right shoulder and he's right-handed--he's not even allowed to tie his shoes right now!) and my toddler who has also been a little under the weather with a sinus infection.
I had to cancel a Christmas playdate I was supposed to host for my friends and their children. I also had to miss taking my daughter to see the Nutcracker for the first time. Boo!
Already behind at work due to my own illness, I'm now getting farther behind because I have to shuttle my husband everywhere (appointments, twice-weekly physical therapy) and I have no one to share the school dropoff/pickup load. I had planned on taking all of next week off, but now plan to work at least three days to try and catch up. Boo!
So we NEED a little Christmas, right this very minute! I feel pretty unprepared for Christmas and certainly would've done more if illness hadn't felled me last week; however, I find myself really looking forward to the next two days despite my exhaustion. On Christmas Eve, we read the Christmas story, open gifts, and eat a little buffet dinner with my parents at their house, then on Christmas morning, we open Santa gifts at our house and then host Christmas dinner for my parents.
I need just a few things for it to feel like Christmas: (1) To hear "Thistlehair, the Christmas Bear" by Alabama, (2) To drink lime sherbet punch, which we have on Christmas Eve every year, and (3) To hang out with my husband, daughter, and parents. So I am sure by tomorrow night, I will feel the Christmas spirit very strongly!
What do you need for it to feel like Christmas?
I really only have one Christmas wish this year: for everyone in my family to have good health and happiness in the year to come. Especially my husband, who went from never having surgery to having two in the span of five months.
Merry, merry Christmas to all of you and your families!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Giving Hope
Recently, I posted a link to an article, Infertile couples cope with prolific Facebook friends, on my Facebook page with the comment "I have to say, I completely understand this reaction. I'm glad I wasn't on Facebook when I was battling infertility. If someone wants to hide me because of my baby pictures and updates, I would totally understand. I've been there."
This week, I got an inbox message from one of my sorority sisters. She's two years younger than me, married, and living in another state. I haven't seen her since I graduated, but keep up with her on Facebook. We were not super close in school, mainly because we only overlapped in the sorority together for about a year since she's younger than me, but I've always thought she was a very sweet person.
She wrote: "I just wanted to thank you for the post you made a little while back about fb and infertility. Although I can't really figure out why, somehow it's something you're not supposed to talk about. I was glad you mentioned it.
We've been dealing with infertility for awhile now, and it really sucks. No other way to put it. And yes, fb can be really hard when everyone I know has such beautiful children and gushes about them all the time...But I don't think I'd hide anyone for it bc I'm so glad to see these people I know so happy. Honestly, it's huge to me to know you dealt with infertility but have had such a fantastic happy ending. I've always enjoyed seeing your pics of your daughter bc she's so cute and looks like a mini-you...but now when I see your posts it also reminds me that even people who struggle with infertility can end up with a fantastic family."
This message means the world to me. I cried reading it. I do have a fantastic family and I'm so blessed. And I'm so happy that by sharing this link and my experience, I gave my friend some hope in her own infertility battle.
Infertility is nothing to be ashamed of--it's a medical condition, despite the fact that most insurance companies do not cover its treatment. I made a promise to myself after I had my daughter that I would always talk about the way she came into being honestly and share my experience in part to try to take the stigma away from infertility. I suffered mostly alone and in silence while I was going through it, feeling like a failure and angry at God. So I won't be silent about it ever again.
I wrote back to my sister and told her how much her words meant to me. I also gave her my number and told her to please call me if she ever wanted to talk and needed a sympathetic ear from someone who's been there. And I told her I'd be praying for her and her husband. I so hope they will get their miracle baby. Mine was conceived about this time three years ago via IUI...a true Christmas miracle.
"Now when I see your posts it also reminds me that even people who struggle with infertility can end up with a fantastic family." This is one of the best sentences I've ever read! I gave someone hope today. What a great feeling!
My little Christmas miracle
This week, I got an inbox message from one of my sorority sisters. She's two years younger than me, married, and living in another state. I haven't seen her since I graduated, but keep up with her on Facebook. We were not super close in school, mainly because we only overlapped in the sorority together for about a year since she's younger than me, but I've always thought she was a very sweet person.
She wrote: "I just wanted to thank you for the post you made a little while back about fb and infertility. Although I can't really figure out why, somehow it's something you're not supposed to talk about. I was glad you mentioned it.
We've been dealing with infertility for awhile now, and it really sucks. No other way to put it. And yes, fb can be really hard when everyone I know has such beautiful children and gushes about them all the time...But I don't think I'd hide anyone for it bc I'm so glad to see these people I know so happy. Honestly, it's huge to me to know you dealt with infertility but have had such a fantastic happy ending. I've always enjoyed seeing your pics of your daughter bc she's so cute and looks like a mini-you...but now when I see your posts it also reminds me that even people who struggle with infertility can end up with a fantastic family."
This message means the world to me. I cried reading it. I do have a fantastic family and I'm so blessed. And I'm so happy that by sharing this link and my experience, I gave my friend some hope in her own infertility battle.
Infertility is nothing to be ashamed of--it's a medical condition, despite the fact that most insurance companies do not cover its treatment. I made a promise to myself after I had my daughter that I would always talk about the way she came into being honestly and share my experience in part to try to take the stigma away from infertility. I suffered mostly alone and in silence while I was going through it, feeling like a failure and angry at God. So I won't be silent about it ever again.
I wrote back to my sister and told her how much her words meant to me. I also gave her my number and told her to please call me if she ever wanted to talk and needed a sympathetic ear from someone who's been there. And I told her I'd be praying for her and her husband. I so hope they will get their miracle baby. Mine was conceived about this time three years ago via IUI...a true Christmas miracle.
"Now when I see your posts it also reminds me that even people who struggle with infertility can end up with a fantastic family." This is one of the best sentences I've ever read! I gave someone hope today. What a great feeling!
My little Christmas miracle
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