This is so WACK!

On my lunch break, I'm trolling the web a little and I stumble onto a blog that has a baby ticker that looks like this:



I think it is all very intriguing, but kind of too... well, how to put this... fetus fundamentalist. It looks kind of gross to me, mostly because I associated it with a bad "anti-choice" ad. See how those abortion-clinic-bombers have poisoned my mind??? Even a re-creation of my own Bean seems somehow propaganda-licious and ickey.

Maybe some of you are like, "T, I think you are the wacked one... look what a beautiful gift from God that pregnancy ticker is..." and to that I say,
"Hmmm, Okay. What about this:"



You can shove up to 10 babies in there!!! Is that okay??? Is that normal??? Is that a beautiful vision???
No.
It is not.
It makes me think people love fetuses a little too much.
Fetuses and dogs...

As a beautiful and talented diva-turned-addict once said:
It is not right, but it's okay, I'm gonna make it anyway.

I think this could be amusing to check in on, but I can't bring myself to post it in the sidebar. So I am going to make this post available under "Posts that explain some things."

Swim tight- little, on-line reproductions of fetal growth... we'll see you on the flip side!

Health

I'm sickie.
Not pregnancy sickie.
Coughing, aching, stuffy head, sore throat, post nasal drip... sickie.
I can't take anything except Tylenol because I don't want the bean to get all fucked up.
I'm drinking water and trying to sleep without choking to death on my own mucus.

It's no goodie.
T.T. no like-y

Home

Got home from the trip and cleaned the kitchen...
It started out a normal, wash-the-dishes-in-the-sink kind of cleaning, but by the end, it morphed into a Pull-out-the-stove, get-on-your-hands-and-knees-to-scrub-the-floor-by-hand cleaning.
There was a 2 hour window where i wasn't thinking about my sore throat or ear ache at all;
and I think the mop-and-glow acted a little like a nasal decongestant/ cough suppressant.

I do this about 2 times per year. Usually, I limp around for 2 days after - due to back and knee soreness.
It (the kitchen) really needed it. I guess I needed it too.

Personal

This weekend, we went to NY with the softball team/ book club.
As promised, it was a relaxing weekend full of yummy food, cards, dice, puzzles, trivia, games, and lots of laughter. These friends are not germ-phobic at all and would rather you come sick as opposed to not at all. And they also don't seem to mind that this is my 3rd consecutive book club that I have attended without having read the book.

Professional

Fair Haven Community Health Center celebrated it's 35th anniversary at a Gala event on Friday night. Everyone looked great and there were some amazing people in the room. I'm lucky to work with many of them. My boss told a story about the clinic's opening that has stuck with Katy and me. A feasibility study was done which basically said, "This endeavor (opening up a health center to care for this New Haven community) will not be successful." Due to the lack of available resources and other obstacles, a recommendation was made that the funding this "project" would be futile. But the committee decided (for the sake of the volunteers) to "fund it anyway."

35 years, 130 FTE's, and a 10 million dollar annual budget later, we're still fighting the good fight.

Several times since Friday night, Katy has squeezed my hand with a misty tear in her eye(s) and whispered, "fund it anyway." I can't say I'm sure what she means - I think it extends beyond Fair Haven and has rooted as some symbolic slogan in her psyche. Perhaps she has a grand scheme that I am unaware, or wants to increase our charitable giving. But I read it to mean that optimism and kindness (the kind she exhibits daily) is it's own reward... And folks that lean toward cynicism (like me) ought to learn a thing or two.

Political

Gay Marriage is on the legislative agenda again in CT.
Last Monday, there was public testimony for bill #7395, An Act Concerning Marriage Equality.

Testimony began at 12 noon. I listened to a little at work and then came home and watched on line until the end (after 11pm). There is some room for honest disagreement here, but there are some wack jobs out there. I could not justify taking the day off work to go testify, and this issue affects me DIRECTLY. If I had taken the day off, I'm not entirely sure I would have lasted the 8-12 hours necessary to speak my mind for the 3 allotted minutes. But still there were opponents of the measure, who have such a strong interest and desire in keeping Kt and I from getting "married" that they thought it was perfectly rational to wait all day to "testify" about what God intended (so nice to have an inside view of the Creator's mind) and the damage that would be inflicted on society if we open a legal term and contract to all citizens.

There were a few priceless moments, and there are hardly any politicos who speak as succinctly on the issue as one of my favorite funny ladies: Wanda Sykes. She basically says:
1) The government should not be involved in this.
2) If you don't believe in same sex marriage, don't get married to someone of the same sex.
3) The biggest threat to marriage is not same sex marriage, it is divorce.
Her entire album is hilarious, you can hear clips here.

If you live in CT and you want to support this bill, write or call your Legislators. Also, contact the governor's office (M.Jodi Rell has promised to veto any marriage equality bill the legislature passes.) For extra measure, consider donating time or money to Love makes a family - these people are tireless and brave in their efforts to win some rights for my family.

Introduction of "The Bean"

It's been hard blogging lately for several reasons:
1) Extreme Exhaustion
2) Feeling pensive, not witty
3) Don't know how to chit chat without revealing the big secret.

The blog is about to change.
Life is about to change...

There are still people that we haven't told in person who we feel we should tell in person, but I can't really keep it in anymore. So if you are finding out about this on the blog, and you are inclined to think that you should have gotten a phone call or a personal visit, I apologize. In terms of an explanation and a show of remorse, I can only refer you to reason #1 at the top of the page... I am a very tired young woman.

Actually, I'm not tired so much as pregnant.
There. I said it.
Just about 12 weeks along. Due around October 11th. Queasy and tired, but otherwise doing great. Both moms are very excited and "the bean" as we have begun referring to our newly formed fetus is... well s/he is not saying much yet, but my uterus is stretching and the journey begins.

About this time last year, Katy and I were contemplating an IVF cycle after seven failed attempts at insemination with frozen donor sperm. I was seeing a very kind and adorable infertility doctor who put me on clomid and progesterone, and at least once time, injectibles to drive my ovulation. I was getting vaginal ultrasounds 4-7 times per month and blood drawn more often. It didn't seem that bad at the time, but it was a roller coaster of angst. We took some time off from the planning to put our house back in order and around New Year's 2007 started discussing a plan to continue the baby-making quest.

We knew we had one more shot on ice and thought we could A) use that last dose for IVF which had an excellent chance of success for someone like me with supposedly healthy eggs and no obvious "real" infertility issues. Or we could B) Do one more insemination cycle with tall, skinny, anonymous donor boy (tsadb) and then look for some new - hopefully more talented - tadpoles.

We were about to call the cute MD, when we decided on a cheaper solution: Were we to "liberate the swim team" and give it our best shot at home, we could... you know... Do it the "old fashioned way"... in the bedroom... the... um... proverbial and stereotypical "turkey baster" method.

I never thought it would work. And clearly neither did Katy, b/c she let me drink for two consecutive weekends until day-12, post-insemination, I started to feel a little... nauseous.
Seven to ten positive pee sticks later we were like, W.T.F?!? Who could have written this episode and expected the public to buy it???

At that point, my wife started to strut a little. I mean, seriously, can you blame her? Sorry Dr-cutie-pie with all the fancy technology... my girl knows her way around a cervix.

blink.
blink.
blink.

Anyway, we threw this annoying tease out there early in the month. What they have in common is that those are the foods that baby center.com uses to compare the size of an embryo to in the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th week of gestational life.

FAQs:
1) No, we do not know the gender - it's too early.
2) No, we are probably not going to find out the gender until the delivery
3) Yes, really.
4) Yes, we realize this will make "shopping and decorating" more difficult
5) No, we do not have a name picked out.
6) Yes, our parents and families are very excited.

Will keep you posted! (obviously.)

PS- if you run into my dad's mom, just be aware, I haven't gotten over there to tell her yet, and she doesn't have internet access... And she doesn't know I'm gay... Just kidding, of course she knows I'm gay- she was at the wedding... but she's not much of a cook and doesn't know a thing about turkey basters. I think I might just let her think the doctor was successful... hmm, lots of things to figure out still...

525,600 minutes

Dear Mac,

You're a year old! Yesterday was your birthday, and you spent most of this week with a bad fever, home from day care, breathing heavy, slumped over the shoulder of any of us that got to hold you. You kept your mommy and daddy up because they brought you to their bed at night, and they think you might need your own queen-sized bed for all the moving and twirling around in your sleep that you do. For most of your life so far, you have been a fantastic sleeper! Your parents have kept the bedtime routine pretty standard and it seems to have worked for you. After a bottle and round of goodnight hugs, they put you in your crib, rub your head & back, tell you they love you, and you sleep for the next 10 to11 hours.

It's impossible to think about this last year without thinking of you. And it's nearly as difficult to believe we didn't know you before last year. You have brought so much joy, warmth, and causes to celebrate. I joke that we (Nana, Grandpa, Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Katy, and I) used to get together and chit-chat with one another... now it seems like we get together to sit around and look at you. It's not that we are so obsessed (though some of us are) or that you are particularly special (though, really, you are) it's more that no one wants to miss your firsts. A year goes by fast, and the opportunity to see all that happens to a being in the first year of life holds us transfixed. Your mom said it best when she said about this year, "It wasn't exactly slow, but it didn't exactly fly by either." There was a lot going on all year and your parents handled the adjustments amazingly well- making it seem much easier than I think it was.

We have all done our best not to rush you: When you were a sleeping newborn, not to wish for the time when you would open your eyes and smile. When you were barely mobile, not to wish for you to crawl. I'm still practicing that now as you seem so on-the-verge of language. You have different syllables, different inflections, different levels of urgency and I remind myself to listen and appreciate this phase instead of letting my thought skip to, "I can't wait until you can talk." You recently got moved to the "one-year-old" room in day care, and your mommy told me that when she picked you up, you pointed and grunted and motioned to various things in the new room, wordlessly showing her your new place and the new things it contained.

I think it was around Thanksgiving that you first seemed to understand "a joke". If you heard all of us laughing, you would make a hardy "fake laughing" noise and then glance toward the crowd to see if anyone agreed. We laughed at your adorableness, and then you peeled into genuine giggles.

You have lightened up the world a little, especially for those of us that love you. Grandma Bella has found a little more of her smile because of you. And I swear, sometimes I see Bean's mischievousness in your expressions.

You will never understand the way you changed Nana and Grandpa/Papa (we're still not sure of his name) because you never knew them before. They express themselves in different ways, and wear their hearts on their sleeves, especially around you. They gape and paw at you, caress and stroke you. You break their hearts wide open 6-12 times a week with your hugs and gestures, and stares and giggles and coos. I always think of them as very task oriented and able to do many things at the same time, but they stop time for you and focus in a way that is very endearing to witness.

Your daddy is the bomb. It's no secret that I think your daddy is funny (hilarious) and smart (mostly as evidenced by his marrying your mommy) but he is humble and quiet in his pride of you. He doesn't need to boast or brag- you are YOU and that speaks volumes. You and he are buddies. When you were tiny and would cry while sitting in his arms watching TV, he would turn to you and say, "I know, that (fill in CNN commentator's name) upsets me too, honey." Your daddy is a full time daddy! And you two spend many nights alone together while mommy is away on business. He knows what you like and what you don't and impresses us all with the way he has seemed pleased, but otherwise non-phased at all by the addition of you to his and mommy's life.

Your mommy has also not really changed at all, and yet, become a completely different person. I guess that's a confusing thing to say, but these transformations can be complex and I have seen new parents change so much that you hardly recognize them as the people they were. That's not really the case with your parents. It has been informative and heartwarming to watch them both struggle with decisions that require imagining, debating, and balancing what is best for you.

Aunt Katy and I nicknamed your mom "Zen Mommy" because something about carrying you inside her and having you in her life after your birth made her more present. She became a little softer, more willing to compliment and encourage others (without losing her comedic timing and her witty edge). She shares you quite selflessly- she has this inner confidence and strength that keeps her from needing to be the only one that can comfort you. Sometimes when you fall or cry, she gives you encouragement from an arm's length away and lets you comfort yourself. Sometimes when you are exhausted and falling apart she lets one of us soothe you. It's not that her instincts aren't intact- that she doesn't want to tear down walls to make sure you are safe and secure. It's that she knows that your needs to learn to self-soothe or take comfort from others are as important as her need to always be there for you.

Katy and I have felt lucky to watch and learn from you and your parents. We want you to know that where ever life takes you, we will always be there for you. We will help you find your own path, and encourage, support, and (when appropriate) carry you.

We can't wait to see what happens this next year! We love you very much.
Tracy and Katy

Wide eyed

I've been up for 2 hrs cruising the Internet- mostly looking at other blogs- it's amazing where you can wind up when you click from friends to blogs they read, to blogs they read, to blogs they read. I'm a whore for words and this is the Internet porn I could never have imagined.

I am awake right now because this is the new thing... I wake up at 2 or 3 am with my bladder about to burst, cross-eyed in discomfort b/c it feels like I haven't pee'd in 2 weeks. I almost always bang into walls or furniture in the darkness b/c I'm dizzy, disoriented and can't function until I get the urine out. Then I stumble back into bed and lay there.
Exhausted, I just lay there.
I wait, and sleep evades me...
I attempt meditation, relaxation techniques, body scans, counting sheep, prayer...
I toss, turn, and sigh.
My brain is tired, my body is tired, my newly stubbed toe is throbbing, but my bladder is empty and still, I can't just fall back to sleep.

Two nights ago, I was awake for 2 hours. Last night it was at least that long. Tonight, I got up and turned on the computer after 20 minutes.

Babies, babies, babies on my mind.

Some of our best friends from college have been busy this week:
L and F labored for 72 hours before Amaya finally showed up (with the tiniest bit of surgical intervention.)
LAC delivered her little girl a little after 9pm last night: 3 to 10 hours earlier than i predicted.
Ben and Mackenzie are about to turn one.
March has become very heavily associated with baby production in my mind,
and in my body.

Spousal (lack of) Support

I came home last night and made 2 chicken dinners. The first- BBQ chicken on the Grill- I threw away even though I almost froze my ass off, cooking it in -5 degree wind-chill factors. It looked really good, but it had been marinating for 2 days, and though our homemade BBQ sauce usually smells tangy, I was convinced it was spoiled.

The second chicken dinner attempt was a box of sodium-filled, Betty Crocker Complete Meals: Chicken and Buttermilk biscuits. I bought this nightmare in an unfortunate but unavoidable GSWF episode. (GSWF= Grocery Shopping While Famished). I put the boxed meal in the cart thinking, "this is probably delicious." The final product was not delicious. It was... gross. And while I couldn't bear to put my second and final attempt at a home cooked meal in the trash, I Glad-boxed it and tucked it in the fridge to-be-discarded later.

I had finished my bowl of cheerios when Katy came home looking rather green. I asked her if she wanted something to eat (making my way to the kitchen to sniff the BBQ chicken in the trash- not sure how I would explain this possibly irrational move.) The wife gripped her abdomen, and groaned in what I took to mean "I'll be foregoing dinner this evening." Taking a moment to push the wasted food deeper in the trash, I turned to ask about her day, but in those 60 seconds, she laid on the couch and fell asleep. It was 8pm.

I nudged her at 8:10 to ask if she was okay. A part of me was sincerely concerned, but another, less-compassionate part of me noted that her stuttered moaning was making me feel queasier than the salmonella scare had an hour before. I figured if she was gonna eewuke, maybe the cold tile on the bathroom floor would feel more soothing against her feverish flesh than the warm upholstery. She nodded unconvincingly and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. I sat down beside her and woke at 8:35- apparently the narcolepsy was contagious. I felt perturbed, not only by my extreme fatigue but also by the UConn Women's BBall championship game (the white noise of basketball gives me agita- i only watch televised games as a demonstration of marital commitment.) I wondered why we were still tuned in since my bride was again fast asleep. I changed to a TiVo'd Discovery Channel Special and promptly fell back into slumber.

At 8:46, we moved to the bed, said our "i love you's" and did not speak again until 7am. I slept soundly through her burning and twitching and groaning and moaning, but in the light of day her complexion was the only update on her condition that I required. I knew 90 minutes before she did that she wouldn't be participating in work today.

Poor sickly, Boo... it's not just that GI bugs are so completely horrible (which they are.) It's that
1) GI bugs make you worry that you have an undetected, horrible, awful disease; or that you will some day die a horrible, awful death... you might even have the mental strength to remind yourself not to be overly-dramatic, but you just can't help worry that death is near... and
2) GI bugs do something to your loved ones that make them take a self-protective step back... I love you, but please do not breathe on me... And please don't touch me... don't even think of kissing me... And please do not touch my pillow... do not look in the direction of my pillow... wouldn't you feel more comfortable sleeping on the couch...
Poor sweet, lonely Boo.

A mystery unfolds

What do these seemingly random food items have in common?
	Protein
	Vitamins A-C
	All require the ripening powers of the sun
	Each can be ordered on ebay
	Does this have something to do with dental floss?
	Your blog is really starting to irk me.
pollcode.com free polls

A war of sorts

Last weekend we had the distinct pleasure of hosting many of the MICU nurses from back in Tracy's ICU days for a reunion of sorts. For anyone who has ever heard Tracy tell stories from the ICU, you know that a get-together means some serious laughter. If you aren't in health care or seen a loved one in the hospital you would never believe half of the stories they tell. And you definitely wouldn't believe that we think they're HILARIOUS.

The more I think about it, the more it seems like these amazing women (and Vin) have been through a war of sorts together. They have seen humans, sometimes they're own or their closest friends' family members, at their sickest, most undignified time. They have seen people deteriorate with and without grace, people reduced to their most powerless, their most helpless; people faced with no good options; people without control of their mind and/or body; people reduced to organic systems. For most of us it is something we only see when a close family member is sick or dying. For them, it's an every day (or every night) ocurrence.

When they get together and tell these stories and laugh until they pull a back muscle (no seriously, Tracy did) my theory is that they start to heal pieces of themselves that have been damaged from having to see humans at their sickest. There is something about health care that's hard to name and even harder to compensate: an emotional expenditure that noone can pay you for in money. But, somehow, you feel richer than Bill Gates when you can allow the comedy that is life come through the little pieces that are broken and know without a doubt that all of these people that you've fought the good fight with are your friends.

Knowing they are there and undersand something undescribable inside each other's souls is worth more than anything monetary.

Flipping out

The last two days contained 2 of the more surreal experiences of my life:

Thursday, a woman came to the clinic and delivered a baby approximately 14 minutes after her arrival. I stood outside the door of the exam room, gloved at the "cracked open" emergency cart trying to mentally preen my infant CPR skills just in case the midwife and 2 pediatricians were wrong about the baby's status. 7 1/2 lb baby girl came flipping-out into the world in the most natural way, without any complications and without any monitoring or medical intervention. My directive came from the nurse midwife, "Don't you dare call 9-1-1 until this baby is born." And then it was my task to keep the EMTs at bay until they had delivered the placenta as well. It went against all my modern, western training as a nurse and administrator to let this process happen without releasing a pack of emergency-medical-hounds who might have added turmoil and a false sense of security to an otherwise serene event.

Then yesterday, as I was driving down the highway (In the passing lane) I noticed a car in the distance appearing to bounce toward me in the median. As I got closer, I realized it wasn't bouncing as much as flipping or rolling (6-10 times) side over side and when the blue sedan ended up breech, wheels spinning in the air, I slowed down to a stop- deep on the shoulder of the road. Looking to the car, maybe 25 yards back, it had lost all it's windows and had broken into thousands of 8-10 inch chunks of plastic and metal: Possessions and wreckage scattered for what seemed like the length of a football field. I didn't see anyone in the car and didn't know if I should get out until I stopped looking behind me and I glanced casually to the left. There was the driver. He was lying peacefully on his back- as if sunbathing on the ice- with one shoe on, no coat, in a t-shirt and jeans.

Gulp.

I didn't see blood, but I was sure this guy was dead. By then the motion and noises of the commuting world which had seemed muted in slow-mo, picked up back into real-time mode. Several people from the north and south bound lanes had also stopped. Two were already on cell phones, I got out and approached the driver, hesitantly. Someone shouted to keep him warm and these random dudes produced sleeping bags and heavy blankets from their vehicles. I identified myself as a nurse and got close enough to find the driver talking- groggy, but aware of who and where he was, muttering that his car was really "messed up." I was kneeling at his head, two lanes of traffic zipping past on either side of us, staring clearly at the gas-scented nightmare that was now his car and almost laughed out loud when one of the other bystanders told him, "Don't worry about your car, your car is fine, man." Your car is fine, Man... You can bring it home tonight (well most of it) in a hefty bag.

The good Samaritan who I'll call MacGyver (one of those that had located an army surplus supply store in his trunk to keep the driver guy warm) said, "don't worry, I'll find it" when the injured man started mumbling about his backpack and cell phone. And then MacGyver proceeded to crawl all in and around this guys cracked up car until he brought back a back pack... "I found your cell phone, and your ipod, and anything that looked valuable... they're all in your back pack right here..." (WHO IS THIS DUDE? I couldn't help but wonder.) When the police and ambulance finally got through the traffic to get to us, I was starting to panic about how stable the driver seemed to be. He could move his legs a little but we told him to stay still. He said he "felt like shit," without mentioning any specific pain, but that seemed like a good sign too. I wanted to get the hell out of there before he went into shock or some internal injury caused him to arrest. I wanted to leave believing that he would somehow (ridiculously) be discharged from the hospital that afternoon with only bumps and bruises. That your entire car could fall to pieces around you, but your body could somehow be laid lightly in the snow as if plucked out by an angel.

That was how I wanted to leave this experience- and quickly after the ambulance arrived, I did- learning that:
1) If it looks like a bouncing car, it might not be your eyes playing tricks on you
2) They really make cars so much safer these days
3) Sometimes you just get insanely lucky
4) It's not a myth- there are these rough & tumble, thick-necked MacGyver types who roam the earth displaying quick-thinking, generousities that can baffle the mind.
5) Maybe I should travel with a little less crap in my car, so that in the event of a potentially fatal accident, an Eyewitness won't drive away like I did thinking, "Wow, she had a lot of crap in her car... I doubt she'll ever see most of that stuff again..."

Life in the fast lane

I think we as a society should put more emphasis on good driving mores. Certain stupidities become downright dangerous in icy conditions. Particularly, I'd like to teach the world this lesson:

If you are in the passing lane, you should be passing SOMETHING!

Every once in a while (while driving in the passing lane) a driver should ask themselves: Have I passed anything lately? Are there cars up ahead that I will pass soon? Are there cars passing me? Are there cars lined up behind me that would pass me if I moved out of the passing lane?

Too often it seems that drivers feel the passing lane is for a citizens' enforcement of the speed limit... or imposing their own version of a "15-mile above-the-limit limit" This causes me (and many others) to have to pass on the right, in the slow lane, in order to get back in the passing lane. I was taught that it is illegal to pass on the right (on a 2 lane road, at least) but I think it should be illegal to STAY in the PASSING LANE and force others to pass you.

In wintery conditions, ONE car should move over; as opposed to several needing to veer around Mr. or Mrs. "I decide how fast the entire world will drive in the snow and ice... can't you see my knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel because I'm too terrified or incompetent to move over and drive my Q-tip speed in the NON-PASSING LANE!!!"

Please, fellow citizens, pass this message on: There is no shame in driving slow, just get the hell out of my the way.

Luggage breakthrough!

I forgot to mention about the trip...
I am bringing a Knapsack on my back...
NOTHING ELSE!!!
I am a notorious OVER-packer, and I am making the leap,
carrying on my little Ziploc with hair gel, tooth paste, hand cream and deodorant...
And only the things that will fit in one Knapsack!
Not a knapsack AND a purse, or
a knapsack AND a "carry-on..."
JUST. ONE. BAG.
Hooray for me!
(This is a serious feat.)