How to describe?

March 13, 2006 at 8:48 pm | Posted in First Comes Love - Then Comes... GonalF? | 5 Comments

… the mix of emotions I feel whenever we hand in our tickets, pass the “you must be so tall” sign and climb back aboard this ART rollercoaster? Or perhaps a better metaphor is the carnival games: you see the people wandering the midway at the state fair clutching huge stuffed tigers and you know that someone wins, sometimes. Despite the fact that you never seem to.

I can’t help feeling hopeful. They wound up thawing four embryos; two were Grade B, one was so-so, and the fourth was probably-degenerating-but-you-never-know. We opted to put them all in. In this game, everything becomes significant: the u/s gel tube made a farting noise; Pili & I are inordinately amused by farting noises. It’s an omen. A sign. This is The One.

And yet, I don’t want to get my hopes up too high. As if I could protect myself from hurt by not hoping. How do you all do this?

p.s. Image hosted by Webshots.comSambar & Idli got an honorable mention for cutest cat couple. We are thrilled beyond measure!

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Help

March 12, 2006 at 1:34 pm | Posted in Blogging about Blogging | Leave a comment

I figured out the bloglines thing. Took me FOREVER, but I did it. Email me if you’d like to know how – it’s not really that complicated.

However, ever since I posted all the kitty porn, my sidebar has gone all the way down to the bottom. Anyone know why it’s doing that and how I can fix it?

ETA: I moved the kitty pictures around so they are all in a long line, and it seems to have resolved the problem.

Photo Friday: aka I am a catlady…

March 10, 2006 at 12:48 am | Posted in First Comes Love - Then Comes... GonalF?, Meows, Photo Friday | 10 Comments

Goes together like Idli & Sambar

Clean Kitty

Bart in a Bag

Bartholomeow on Butt

Louie the Hunter

Are my beasties not cute? C’mon Bri, choose me, choose me.

Not much else to say. The ass-shots have commenced, and really, you’d think that after plunging needles into my own body for twenty years, I’d be able to do it to someone else without flinching, stammering, wincing, and getting light headed. Instead, it’s just another reason to hate mornings.

A random technical question: how do I get my bloglines blogroll to show in the sidebar? I have lots of folks I’d like to add to the list, but I’m too lazy to type them all in.

Give me an f! Give me an e!

March 7, 2006 at 5:44 pm | Posted in AdoptThis!, First Comes Love - Then Comes... GonalF? | 3 Comments

… Give me a t… Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t even muster enough enthusiasm for these poor little frozen embryo-yos to capitalize them. But abster asked for an update (thanks Abster! You get a capital A for Awesome) and so I dutifully report.

Pili went in for a wanding yesterday morning. Doctor Short but Sweet (he is indeed, both) or perhaps it was Nurse Practicioner Tall and Brusque (not really, but I like the contrast. And she is tall) pronounced her lining to be looking good. So next monday I will put on blue disposable scrubs and shoe covers and a lovely yellow hair net in order to be in the room and squeeze Pili’s hand as Dr. SBS supposedly squeezes a couple of my de-frosted embryos into Pili. And then we cross our fingers, embark on the libido-lifting ritual of jabbing a mile long intra-muscular shot into Pili’s tender flesh every morning, which really sweetie, hurts me more than it hurts you. Really. And then we wait, for two intensely, intensely, long weeks. Without alcohol.

For those of you who are going: huh? I thought you were adopting? Well, no matter what, we will be adopting down the road. Even if Pili does get pregnant via the defrosted lowercase embryos and winds up producing a child nine months later, we will still need to go through a home study and spend lots of money so that we are both legally the kiddo’s moms. And why yes, that does make me bitter. Although grateful that I live in a solidly blue state where this is a possibility.

We’re also starting to think through our options as far as different pathways to adoption and family building – domestic infant adoption vs. a couple of different international options – we have to figure out what makes the most sense for us. And we’ll probably start doing the paperwork for the adoption even though we still have a few more embryos in the freezer (See OUCH Syndrome for an explanation of where all these embryos came from).

PhotoFriday this week is going to be tough. I have to choose ONE cute photo of the beasties. I may need some help with this…

Photo Friday: In the Closet

March 3, 2006 at 11:26 am | Posted in More than you ever wanted to know about me..., Photo Friday | 2 Comments

Q. What’s in my closet?

A #1: Lots of people will probably make this joke, but um, definitely NOT ME.

A #2: A large black and white cat. The beasties, despite not having thumbs, have figured out how to push the sliding doors open by head butting them. There’s usually at least one of them in there.

A#3: Another fabulous red shoe. Extremely uncomfortable, but fabulous.

A#4: Not really visible – a whip given to me as a joke by my lovely bridesmaids.

A#5: Lots of disorganized clothes.

A#6: A jar of change. My retirement savings plan, for right now. Also, lots of bags and bottles of syringes. Between infertility and diabetes, we generate a lot of medical waste. The local hospital accepts sharps on alternate tuesdays when the moon is full. As a result, my closet is full.

A#7: The one that makes me sad. On top, piles of karate gis, untouched for almost three years. When we moved to City I Dislike Intensely (CIDI), I left behind a karate dojo I loved – with a feminist ethic and devoted to non-violence. I was six months away from getting my black belt. I haven’t found anything even remotely like it here, and have almost entirely given up my martial arts practice along with the joy, self-confidence, and strength I got from it. Even more than the career difficulties, this has been the hardest thing for me about this move. Sigh.

Closer up Could you kick him out of there? I didn’t think so.

p.s. I also put up a bunch of photos on flickr from our India trip for the Naptime Books discussion of The God of Small Things. It’s really strange to come inside from feeling the cutting wind against my cheeks and remember floating down river in a boat with the warm sun on my face just two short months ago.

Bright Ideas for a Dismal Disease

March 2, 2006 at 12:08 pm | Posted in The Sweet Life | 2 Comments

I hijacked the comments over at Julia’s with my list of “what I wish my parents had said to me” growing up as a Type I back in the dark old days of ChemStrips and wipe, wait, compare blood sugar monitoring. These were on my list:

  • I know it sucks to have to test your blood sugar at school/when you’re with your friends/any time. No, but you really oughta shoulda. Just, IT SUCKS NOT TO BE ABLE TO BE A NORMAL KID.
  • I’m so proud of you FOR testing even when the numbers aren’t where you want them to be.
  • You are so much more than the sum of your sugars. This disease is something WE have to control so that YOU get a chance to shine.

Anyone else have any tidbits to add? Disagree with my tidbits? Speak up!

Come for the Diabetes, Stay for the Soapbox

March 1, 2006 at 12:07 am | Posted in Political Animal, The Sweet Life, We are Family | 8 Comments

I know from looking at my sitemeter that most of the people who get here are coming via the awesome and all powerful diabetes OC. And I know that that means that, aside from some kind of personal connection to this lovely disease, we might not have a lot in common. We may not share political convictions. We may not share religious convictions. But you’re here. And it’s my blog. So, I hope you’ll take a minute to listen.

Pili and I are married. In front of 100 of our friends and family, with officiants from both of our faith traditions, we pledged to be true to each other. To love each other through thick and thin, rich and poor – healthy and sick (boy, Pili got the short end of that stick!). Oh yes, and to spend $2000 on a second parent adoption so that we can both legally sign permission slips and take our theoretical children to the doctor. And we’re lucky. We live in a state that permits second parent adoption. If you don’t understand why we’re making such a big deal about gay marriage, please read this. Our tax dollars at work, my friends. Our tax dollars at work.

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