Mmmmmm...

...chocolate...

Misunderstandings

I gave E a few 'surprises' when he got home. We would talk about his surprises on the phone when he was still with his grandparents.

E: What surprise do you have for me?
S: If I tell you it won't be a surprise
E (whining): But I can't hardly wait that long.

And I would invariably relent and tell him something that I had bought him.

One thing I bought was a Thomas the Train sticker/coloring book. He loves stickers and he likes to put them on his toys. I also bought him a Thomas the Train (do you sense a pattern here???) roundhouse to store his engines in. He calls it a shed.

This morning he took a sticker out of his book and was carrying it upstairs.

"What are you going to do?", I asked.

E: I am going to put my sticker on my shit.
S: WHAT DID YOU SAY??
E: I said I am going to put my sticker on my SHED.

Oh. That's what I thought you said.

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.

Unbelievable

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.

Unbelievable.

What I did on my Lunch Hour

Mmmm...retail therapy...

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*

From my new toy

a picture of our little furry friend...

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.

Mount 'er up!

Well, the gauntlet has been thrown down and the race is on! We had a consult with a local RE and (as I expected) he advised us to have the transfer at our old clinic in Oregon as they know the proper protocol for thawing, etc. (he told me there were hundreds of different protocols...I hadn't realized that). They would be happy, though, to do the local monitoring and testing.

Due to my age, I need to have a few extra tests. I had an EKG at my doctor's office this morning (all normal) and will be scheduling a stress test as soon as the cardiology clinic calls me back. I have scheduled the HSG for Friday.

Hold on to your hats...this old girl is gonna try again!!

Mediation – It’s Over

It is all over. I am sad and disheartened but I must concede for E’s sake. This system is such a load of horse crap that I just want to pound my fists on the table and scream for justice. Chapter 39 (the section in Florida law that deals with dependency issues) is being trampled on by DCF and the court system. You may as well use it for wallpaper for all the effectiveness it has. They break the rules, fail to follow their own process, trample on the Constitution and steal your rights, but it doesn’t matter.

The mediator told us that in 13 years of practicing dependency cases, she has never seen the judge go against what DCF is asking for. Basically he just rubber stamps everything put in front of him. We are told we would probably win on appeal but that would be a year or two down the road. Half of E’s lifetime.

That is how they win. Because they don’t care. They don’t care how long your child stays in foster care or relative care. It doesn’t matter to them. But it does to parents. We have already missed E’s first Easter egg hunt. I don’t want to miss any more firsts. He will only be 4 once.

We are going to let E finish the school year with his class (it concludes on May 18). Then my in-laws will drive out here and we will all go to Disney together (we still have 2 tickets each from when we went in January and they have to be used within 6 months).

He was so happy when I told him last night on the phone that he would be coming home soon.

E: Tomorrow?
S: No, sweetie. After school is over for the year.
E: The day after tomorrow?

God, I miss my boy.

Marking time...

I am working on a few new posts but until then I will post some gratuitous cute kid photos taken after a carnival at my in-law's church:

Not quite perfect

Amalah asked on her Advice Smackdown about beauty imperfections. Now, as hard as this may be to believe I have one of those (yes, i said one...stop laughing!!).

I have this mole on my cheek. When I was younger, I used to think it gave character to my face in a Marilyn Monroe-ish or Cindy Crawford-ish kind of way. I was even kind of ticked off once when it got air-brushed out in one professional photo I had taken. (You twit!! Don't remove my beauty mark!!)

But now...

Yes, getting older has...changed it. Now it is...bigger. It sticks out like a quarter of an inch from my face. (Did it used to do that?? I don't think so.) I don't remember when that happened. And also...

...it has a hair growing out of it. Yes, much like the witch in Hansel and Gretel or Margaret Hamilton in the Wizard of Oz, I now have a mole with a hair growing out of it. On my face.

Not. Attractive. At. All.

I keep saying I am going to go to a dermatologist and get it removed but it seems (at least here in Florida) that dermatologists have waiting lists until 2015. (sunscreen, people; sunscreen)

Why did you change, oh beauty mark of my youth?? Why are you now gross and hairy?

*sigh* Getting older. Not for sissies.

A good weekend

We had a lovely time this weekend. We spent a lot of time at the Jacksonville Jazz Festival. Heard a lot of really good music (Chuck Mangione, I luuurve you), heard some guys I had never heard of before but must now spend money on their music (Chris Botti - great, great musician...and not bad to look at either - that's him over there <--) or bought a CD after the show (Greg Adams...kind of looks like a younger version of Marshall Applewhite of Heaven's Gate fame, but whoa! what great music!!).

Anyway, it was really needed as we gear up for next week. We have a mediation scheduled to see if we can get E returned. Now they are saying they offered to place E with us (well, me, but B would have to live elsewhere) and we refused!!!! Ummm...no it was never offered. The closest thing to that was at our house with my MIL (or FIL) living here too. I must still be supervised with my son (sight and sound!!).

Well, if you get a chance to hear any of these great musicians, make time. I was duly impressed.

Just stuff

I was talking to E on the phone last night (you know...because I cannot be trusted to take care of my son because B wears shorts). He was asking when he will get to come "to your house." "Soon, I hope, sweetheart." "Forever and ever?" "Yes, baby"

A bit later he was spelling things to me and asking what the word was.

E: E. L. E. C. T. R. O. N. I. C.
S: Electronic
E: K. E. Y. B. O. A. R. D.
S: Keyboard
E: S. T. O. P.
E: That means Stop.
S: That's right! You're so smart!
E. S. L. O. W.
E: Slow!!
S: Yes! How did you get to be so smart?
E: Because I am smart!

Yes, baby. You are so smart.

Maybe...

Well, it's that time of year again. Yep. The renewal came last week from the embroyology lab. It's time to toss or renew. And the decision is...

We're gonna try.

We are currently looking into moving our embies from Oregon down to Florida and trying a transfer. I have an appointment with a clinic next week.

At my age. Sheesh...people are gonna think I'm nuts. But my last pregnancy was such a piece of cake. I am so good at being pregnant, it's just getting pregnant that I need help with.

And yet, look at him. For the chance of another, isn't it worth people thinking you have, in your senility, gone completely around the bend? How wrong are they anyway? For the chance of another...

And yet, I am so full of doubts. Should we do it? Really, everyone (EVERYONE) will think we're nuts. Hey! I think we're nuts. I am so torn. I want it and I don't.

What the heck.

It probably won't work anyway.