Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Fourteen Years

Today I have been married to the same man for fourteen years. And the best present I received was seeing this perfect face sitting at my kitchen table eating cake and ice cream.

My son is home.

Saturday, May 19, 2007


Obviously DCF is used to getting what it wants.

The mediated settlement agreement THAT WE ALL SIGNED said that as soon as we went to one of their completed all of the conditions of the settlement then E would be returned forthwith.

We completed them.

Our Conclusion
We have done everything they have asked of us and we should have our son returned to us immediately.

Their Conclusion
They did not tell the doctor enough lies about us (i.e. he didn't reach the conclusion that they wanted) and they need time to make up more shit so he will say that B cannot live with his family.


Friday, May 18, 2007

What I did on my Lunch Hour

Mmmm...retail therapy...

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Rant follows

I listened to this NPR story: "Pushing the Age Limits on Motherhood."

First let me rant on the fact that the story is "...Limits on Motherhood..." What about all those old men having children in their 70s and 80s. Are they 'pushing the limits"? Or are they just good ol' boys and getting slaps on the back for being so 'virile'?

Why are women in their 40s 'selfish' for wanting children and women in their 20s are not? Isn't it the same drive, the same wants and desires that is fueling the wish for children? I don't understand how I can be 'selfish' for wanting something that is so essential to the human condition. Am I selfish to want to breathe? To eat? To love and be loved? Stupid, stupid, stupid thinking.

That idiot woman who so resented the fact that her parents were older when she was born is such a twit. Would she rather not have been born?? My parents were 'older' too and I would not trade them for younger parents for anything. I don't know what I can't do now that I did when I was younger. No, I am not going to go skiing (didn't when I was younger either). No, I am not going to play football (ditto the younger me). Run a marathon? HAHAHAHA!!!

But as for not getting down on the floor and playing with my son??? Are you freaking kidding me? Try to stop me!!

Oh, yes...I am sooo tired at night I can barely crawl to my bedroom (*heavy sarcasm*).

*breathe* *breathe*

Saturday, May 05, 2007

From my new toy

a picture of our little furry friend...

Thursday, May 03, 2007

The RE's office

I am glad that I am not in the full throes of infertility hell right now because getting to my new RE's office is an every infertile's worst nightmare, truly a gauntlet of epic proportions.

To get there you first enter the hospital building and one of the first things you see is the sign for the Maternity Ward. Now for an infertile in the midst of infertility-hell even seeing the words "Maternity Ward" can make what is ordinarily a cool, calm professional woman turn into a red-eyed, slobbering puddle of bitterness and vileness.

Then you must pass the Gift Shop. The Gift Shop next to the MATERNITY WARD. This shop is not filled with cheery "Get Well Soon" cards or sappy "So You're In the Hospital..." cards. No. No. It is filled with little blue and pink teddy bears proclaiming "It's a Boy!" and "It's a Girl!", "Congratulations, Mom!" cards and flowers proclaiming, "Welcome to your Bundle of Joy!" All of that pastel pink, blue and yellow just makes me want to puke!

Holy crap, it can still turn me into a bitter infertile. You know her...she has put in a year of two of 'trying' (yeah, like SEX will get you pregnant - HAHAHAHA), four or five cycles of chlomid (every gal's first choice), mix in a couple of IUI cycles and throw in 2 or 3 failed IVF cycles and you can get one bitter, bitter woman.

After you pass the den of depression that is the Gift Shop, you enter the elevator. And never alone. No. You are always in there with some happy people carrying flowers and smiling about the new little family member. PAH! To a bitter, barren infertile all that smiling and pink and blue just makes her want to slug someone.

I am so glad I am over that.