Mary Scarlet

Soundtrack meme from Pru

Ooh, this one is a good one. And my first meme too...

Opening Credits: The Crane Takes Flight - Ted Leo & The Pharmacists (an excellent start)

Waking Up: Sweet Child O Mine - Guns N Roses (hmm ... okay, i guess, childhood but not quite the kind meant in the song)

First Day of School: Svo Hljott - Sigur Ross (confusion, everyone speaking as though in tongues)

Falling in Love: Lorelei - Cocteau Twins

Breaking Up: If God Will Send His Angels - U2 (yes ... heaven help me)

School formal: Amelia - Cocteau Twins (the edgy variety only, please, with lots of black eyeliner)

Life's Okay: Banquet - Bloc Party

Mental Breakdown: Your Blood in Mine - Serena Maneesh (eek, this is a scary good match)

Why Can't We Be Friends: You Win Again - Hank Williams

Movin' Out: Honey - Moby

Getting Back Together: Belfast Child - Simple Minds

Wedding: Deathwish - The Police (this is the best one I think)

Birth of a Child: Outsiders - Franz Ferdinand

Final Battle: Is Chicago, Is Not Chicago - Soul Coughing

Death Scene: Idiots Rule - Janes Addiction (perfect)

Funeral Song: Horn - Nick Drake

End Credits: Sherry Darling - Bruce Springsteen (tears leaving the theatre)

...I don't seem to have the evil zen ...

White dudes in suits

**UPDATED to add ... so sorry, DD, for the terrible news. Our thoughts are with you. Somehow I missed this news and feel a bit of an ass for the chatty/inane post. What a rotten place this is we're all in.***

No more details to share yet, sorry, having a crazy busy week and waiting until next week to make the call to the new RE and get moving on an appointment. Although we live in Illinois and we apparently still have our heads up our asses* about American Indian mascots, we do get some things right, namely mandated insurance coverage for infertility treatment. This makes us extremely, extremely lucky. I hope one day you all get this, it makes me angry that we don't all have it. I blame the white dudes in suits (more on them later). But we had such a horrible, horrible time with the insurance company last time that we've decided we're going to do this with or without it, and if they hassle me about this being my fourth cycle, or if any of my levels are off, or they don't like what we're fixin' to do, we're going to do our damndest to find the money to do it anyway. Since my track record is shitty, we might be in for another few rounds, and that gets expensive, and I'm scared about it, but it's worth it. Not having to worry about our fate being in the hands of the insurance company makes a big difference, though. That added to my stress in a huge way.

Friends of ours who started at 38, had a kid, are now, at 42, pregnant with their second (I think IUI first time, IVF second). It's inspiring. And time to get moving. And we will. This time, a new doctor, and hopefully someone who's willing to talk about why we're choosing the protocol we are, and what our chances really are, and why I always had breakthrough bleeding on the pill, and what it really means, and all of it. I loved my old Dr. but he was a little bit of a dictator and they had a slight tendency to treat patients like addlepated children.

I'm feeling hungover today despite only having three glasses of pretty crappy white wine last night. I went to a super fancypants event for my husbands work (SERIOUSLY fancypants ... like 350 people in one of the nicest hotels downtown for a full hour of open bar cocktail and then a sit down four course meal) and I think they were serving us rotgut. It was enough to make me a little dangerous. I tried very hard to have the professional, wifely, supportive, intelligent look on my face as I was listening to the pompous fatheaded guest of honor give a clueless, boring speech during which he mistakenly said "bisexual" when he meant "unisex" (I shit you not) but I was having a hard time controlling the eyeballs. You can try to pass off an eyeroll as something else the first few times, but then you just start to look twitchy and weird. Anyway, all I could say as we left and got in the car to go home was how glad I will be when the time comes when the chairman of the board, the trustees, and the guest of honor are all women instead of white dudes in suits. And I'll be even happier the day I go to one of these events and the speaker is a big old lesbian.

I thought you might be interested in hearing that those adorable kittens have become absolutely huge and we suspect that they are not true cats but rather some kind of cat/horse hybrid. Seriously, they are seven months old and they weigh 13 pounds each. We're not overfeeding them (well, maybe a little), they're big, and the vet has predicted they'll get to 20. However, since they are both still cuddlebuns and they come sit on my chest the moment I lie down on the couch for a little rest, life with cat/horses is still good.

This will be the third weekend in a row I'm working and I have to give a presentation tomorrow, which I've not yet started, so time to get going. Man, I'm so excited to be rejoining this active infertility blogger thing. Missed you guys.

-Mary Scarlet
Listening to "24 Hours", The Sundays

*I was at an academic computing conference about ten years ago, and two of the clueless IT guys who were presenting put up what they thought was a very humorous picture of themselves with Indian chief headdresses on. One of the earlier presenters had been an anthropology prof, and she got back up and TOLD. THEM. OFF.  It was a great moment. She asked how we would feel if there was a mascot dressed up in a priests robes with miter and crozier, dancing a jig on the sidelines, and wouldn't we feel that, maybe, a line had been crossed? I just do not get the whole Illiniwek thing. It is so freaking stupid.

Out of the blue

For me, typically, change comes in the form of a fog suddenly lifting. At work, and home, at school, whatever. Knowing this is both a blessing and a burden: it makes it hard to kick the procrastination habit, because there is a high likelihood of a spectacular resolution and finish.

To get to the point: I think we might have a plan for moving forward. It does not involve adoption, yet. It does involve going to see a new RE. I find this both terrifying and exhilarating. It wasn't me who made the suggestion, which is sort of shocking. I have many ducks to get in a row, and then I'll be back with more information, maybe when my thoughts are in better order.

Oh my sweet blog

I am sorry to have neglected you so cruelly. It has been more than a month since my last posting.

Vacation was really, really wonderful. I was a little worried about all the time sitting in the car driving, both in fear that it would drive me batshit, or that we'd fight the whole way, or that my bulgy disc would get to bulging and I'd be in agony. Miraculously, none of the above occurred. To avoid the Sturgis motorcycle rally, we headed west via the northern route, through Minnesota and then North Dakota. North Dakota is one of the most beautiful places on earth. Not spectacular, but quietly beautiful.

It helped that we left the interstate as we crossed the border and did the eastern half of the state on state roads through gentle, rolling hills. Massive fields of sunflowers. Farmers who let their dead equipment lie where it falls. A slightly stormy sky helped.
Go there once before you die, it is lovely.

Montana was also gorgeous, but it was a little more frightening because of its size and vast emptiness. We also tried the state road approach, but in MT we rarely saw any signs of other humans, other than the road we were traveling on and the occasional ranch. Then this one biker, literally in the middle of nowhere.

Glacier is waaaay over in the northwest corner of the state, so we didn't even really see much mountain until we were pretty close. It was cold, and rained a little, but I think it is the most gorgeous place I've been to.
We did a long hike up to one of the glaciers, I'm so proud of us. Made the whole trip worth it. Make your visit to Glacier before 2030; they estimate the glaciers may all be gone by then.

After our 3 days in Glacier, we drove back by way of South Dakota and stopped in the Badlands. Meh. Sorry, South Dakotans, your state just doesn't rock like ND. Get thee hence to your northern neighbor. And Wall Drug? Totally not worth stopping. Don't let that advertising fool you.

So, here I am. Back to reality. Work immediately got stressful again, and has crescendoed to the point where I am waking up consistently at 3:30 am and unable to fall back to sleep until 5 or 6. Even my foolproof fallasleep method*, usually as trusty even as my Burger King constipation cure**, has not been working.

My husband keeps telling me that I am mean. Which means that I am no longer filtering anything; all of the blunt commentary that runs in my head is now coming directly out, and it's not nice. I'm trying to decide whether or not I want to work on that, or if I should just go with it. The New Adventures of Old Mary Scarlet.

And this is a week of sad anniversaries. Obviously, Sept. 11. I tried to avoid TV yesterday but I did want to see part of the name reading ceremony, and the waterworks started immediately. The day it happened I was on a vacation day from work, riding bikes in the forest preserve with my brother who was visiting from out of town. We didn't even know it had happened until we packed up the bikes to head home at about 11:30. Then I got my (then-fiance) husband on the phone and heard the incomprehensible news. When I got home and turned on the TV it finally hit me and I spent the rest of the day crying, like everyone else. It was that footage of seeing women standing on a bridge, screaming as they watched the towers fall.

Friday will be the one year anniversary of our miscarriage. Unlike the delivery date, I am trying to let this one pass quietly. I remember, and that is enough. It doesn't feel as sad as the EDD did, except that it is a reminder how quickly time passes, and how much it is against us. I can't believe it's a year already.

I'm so glad I've had this blog for that horrible period while I was doing IVF, and particularly glad that I transcribed the entries on loss. I expect to revisit them a lot in the next few days, and as long as I'm able to keep this site up, I'll leave them there for any other women suffering through to read.  I really wish that I felt I had arrived somewhere now. That I felt life was going to be OK for me, and that we could live as we are, and eventually let that silly, irrational hope go. I don't feel that way yet. And I don't want to end this on such a sad note, so I won't say it's my last post. Maybe at some point in the next few months or a year, I will have my epiphany, or a breakthrough, or feel the finality. So I'll come back and post then. Or maybe just when I'm feeling less squashed.

Until then, I will keep reading all of you and try to be better about the commenting. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and commenting, and helping me to stay upright and alive these past few months.

Love to you all,
Mary
-Listening to "The One I Love," David Gray

*Pick a movie you've seen a million times. Try to replay it in your head scene by scene. With Bridget Jones Diary, I would always be asleep before the "All By Myself" scene in the opening credits.

**Uh ... eat a Whopper Jr., wait 10 minutes. Works every time.

So! there was a REASON

There was a reason why I had been putting off addressing the insurance problem, I found out today. Not because it took an inordinate amount of time, but it was incredibly painful opening up that thick file. Of failure. I paged through my last cycle folder and lost it halfway through. So much failure. So sad.

and NOW, vacation. Toodles.

Countdown to vacation, some poetry, and a rant about insurance

Gosh. Another few weeks gone by. Oh, still not pregnant. Though since Patricia doesn't come until Saturday, I have this week of playing that hilarious game with myself ... you know ... "A miracle could happen."

Saturday is also the day we leave for vacation. I have two whole weeks off work, and I am so ready for it. When I come back it will be a major slam, big, big changes happening, so this time is important. Unfortunately, George Bush has already partially killed the trip, as there is a fairly major fire happening in our chosen vacation spot.  (ya know ... forest fires = global warming = W and his criminal energy policy and feeding-at-the-trough cronies ... only partly kidding. gosh i hate him like fire) However, as we are traveling by car, we can bear last minute changes. Wow, I just realized the irony of that little passage, with our wanton consumption of fossil fuels and all. Shut up. I bike to work.

Let's see. What else? How about some mini film reviews? Saw "The Matador" last night, which I absolutely loved. Pierce Brosnan was hilarious and wonderful; there's a scene when he walks through a hotel lobby to the pool that's so perfect. Saw "Munich" last week, which I really admired, but couldn't actually like and recommend. There were just too many problems with the film, and things that a seasoned filmmaker should have been able to avoid. I loved the cast, however, and am even more impressed by Eric Bana now than I was when he actually made me finish watching the otherwise execrable "Troy." Saw "An Inconvenient Truth" which made me sad and scared and angry all over again, and God I wish 2000 had gone differently. And Al Gore has awesome Mac skills. And reaching a little farther back, "The Proposition" was fantastic. Horrifying and gruesome but spellbinding at the same time. There's a long list of stuff I want to see and haven't yet had time for, so hoping to add to this soon.

Poetry: I recently reconnected with this poem, which has long been my favorite. No particular reason to mention it here, but if you are missing someone far away, you will love it too.

So. My fucking insurance company, whose name rhymes with retina, still has not paid anything on my last failed cycle. There's no good reason for this, it's just boring paperwork incompatibility between the way their infertility program issues referrals and the way the doctor bills; of course the people at the insurance company who handle billing cannot resolve it with their tools, so it takes tedious calling and recalling until I get an actual human who has sufficient clearance. When I was doing back-to-back cycles, I would inevitably put it off until I was actually starting a new one, and now that there's nothing more to come it's all too easy to not do it. Now I'm getting threatening messages from the doctor so I have to. Once again, I am lucky, incredibly lucky, to have any coverage at all. Boy, do I pay for it.

There are a lot of things I'm carrying around in a black cloud in my brain. This outstanding $7,000-odd is one of them. My still unwritten book chapters are another. The many friends and family I have not spoken to in weeks and months, who deserve a call from me. And the big one: what next? Will there be anything? Adoption seems to be becoming less possible with every passing week. And yet I still cannot reconcile myself to not having children. The only thing not in the black cloud is true fear about running out of time. Which I do not really understand. It feels so much like pathetic, unrealistic denial. Procrastination is my worst character fault, and it would seem I've gotten to the point that I can not only put off tasks and jobs and responsibilities, I can even put off my emotions and fears. But with these, I don't think an eleventh hour sprint is going to pull me through. They are going to hit like the proverbial ton of bricks. But still ... I wait. La de da. Whistling in the wind.

In the meantime, it's nice to see a little run of good luck and good news. For Amanda and Statia particularly. Hurrah, girls.

My next two week silence will be brought to you by an actual vacation and physical absence. See ya on the flip side.

-Mary Scarlet
listening to "Little Thoughts" by Bloc Party

What I've been up to

When you're trying hard to ignore the rapid aging of your ovaries it's hard to find things to say on what is supposed to be an infertility blog. Which is ironic, because, man, am I ever. I don't know if I can yet claim to be infertile by infertile standards but I FEEL like I'm the cake-topper, the worst of the worst: started young enough to have been successful, multiple diagnoses, both partners subfertile at best, two gooseggs plus one heartwrenching pregnancy loss, and can't even come close to being able to have the final talk and shut the door forever. I guess the only thing in my column is that we only had the one loss and only did three rounds of IVF. Woohoo. AND, in the meantime, still watching the monthly signs like a hawk, counting days, cutting back on booze and caffeine. It's just sad, is what it is.

So instead, this is what I've been doing:

1. Took my first ever trip to Dallas Texas. We did indeed choose the worst time of year and lucked onto the hottest weekend of the worst time of year, but still, I wonder, how anyone can live there? I know we didn't stay long enough to do it justice, and Fort Worth seemed interesting, but Dallas was one long strip mall connected by interstate. So depressing. On the plus side: some great time with family, several of whom I hadn't met before. And my first ever chicken fried steak. Oh my god was that good. And I'm told the version we had was subpar, so I'm looking forward to some really good CFS in my future.

2. Not losing weight (see above), but being much more conscientious about getting to the gym at least every other day, and feeling much, much better as a result. Still hasn't cured any of the insomnia I've developed lately, but at least I walk around feeling like I could karate chop my enemies if I had to.

3. Falling in love. I can not wait for these to arrive. I've been ogling them for a week and haven't been able to find them locally in my size. I don't know why I love them so much, but all the hairs went up on my arms when I first saw them, and that's not a sign to ignore.

That's pretty much it, with some good doses of cat thrown in. Coasting big time at work, slowly making progress on the book thank God, and anxiously awaiting the big Montana vacation in mid-August. Waiting for the hydrangeas to bloom. Last year at this time I was newly pregnant. So in a few weeks I'll have another sad anniversary to acknowledge. And in the meantime, lurking more than commenting, but still keeping up with the IF blogosphere. Love to all.

From the bottom of my scatological heart

Complete inanity for a Monday morning when my brain just will not get going.

My father, upon hearing the name of Brad and Angelina's new baby, wondered how anyone could be so foolish. Not because it's pretentious-sounding. But if you just take her first and last names, dropping out the Nouvel and the Jolie-, and you swap the beginning consonants, it's a very, very cruel name for a little girl to be saddled with.

Poor little pile o shit.

Can't think

Don't know where I am. You might be wondering. And I don't really know.

Today is my 34th birthday. I hate celebrating my birthday anyway, and the biological horror film only makes it less interesting, less worth remarking. 34 biological, 50 adjusted.

Absolutely no progress on any front in the last 3 months. No closer to any adoption talk. Which may be a decision but I don't know. Still haven't been able to stop watching myself closely in the last half of a cycle, waiting and hoping against all reason. Fer Chrissakes.

Relatives coming for a two week stay this weekend. Way, way behind on my professional writing project. Took a trip to New Orleans. Going to Dallas in a few weeks (relatives). CAN NOT WAIT for August trip to Montana.

For Cricket

Did you know? All you have to do it suggest a posting topic, and lo. This one is for Cricket, please go and say hello to her.

As requested: an update on the kittens

It's all about the poop. We have been keeping them isolated from their older siblings because they spent their first 6 weeks out of doors and we wanted to be sure any worms, fleas, feline leukemia, and impure thoughts were expunged before we mingled the generations. They spent the first 2 weeks in our unused upstairs kitchen. Then we realized the rush towards us every time we entered the room was not a show of affection, but a desperate rush to freedom. They don't know about the extremely cranky and bitchy cat who already rules the roost.

Anyhoo, we decided we should give them more space, so it's now big cats upstairs, little cats downstairs. Except for this morning when my husband accidentally let Big n' Bitchy out (who, it turns out, is more interested in kitten food than kittens), it's been a pretty successful experiment. It is hilarious to be interrupted every 20 minutes at the computer by needle-sharp claws up and down your shins. Ha ha. Oh, ha ha ha ha. Except they also sit behind the laptop screen and peer over every few just so see if I'm still there. THAT makes it worth the scratching and the biting and the bad kitten breath.

What was I saying?

Oh, poop. So, the down side to the expanded freedom is that they are having a little trouble distinguishing fluffy down comforters from litter boxes. The first time, it was just some tinkle. But on Saturday night, at about 11:30, drunk as a skunk and about to collapse into bed, I discovered the most foul, wet and smelly pile of kitten poop smack in the middle of the pure white bed. Ag. I mean, I didn't get dogs so that I could avoid having to confront poop that isn't at least 3 hours old, dried, and nicely floured over with magical dust.

Other than that, they are delightful, and sweet. They have this trilling noise they do that's not quite a meow and it's so adorable. I'm hoping they will stay lap cats, our other two are pretty standoffish in that department. Tomorrow I give them their last dose of worming meds, and then we introduce them to Big n' Bitchy and Ms. Scaredypants. I expect a few weeks of drama and fighting over poop pans and food, then a Peaceful and Serene cat kingdom. And the claws? Are totally coming off. We're going to do it when we take them in for the desexification at about 6 months. We gave it some very careful thought but it's happening.

Oh, what you meant was you wanted kitten pictures? Not stupid kitten stories?
Here ya go:

and three others

Also, has anyone been following the bizarre 13th district congressional race in North Carolina? The  challenger has raised his opponent's childlessness as an issue. His wife had a hysterectomy at age 27 due to endometriosis (according to the news reports). From a recent story in the local paper:

Are claims pertinent?

Robinson said he brought up the Millers' childlessness in the broader context of showing that Miller was outside the mainstream. He said being childless might influence Miller's votes, citing Miller's opposition to providing vouchers to allow children in Washington, D.C., to attend private schools.

"Those were stated in the context to explain why he takes these lunatic positions," Robinson said. "If he had a child, he would not have voted against all the poor children of the District of Columbia who need to get out of the failing dangerous schools they were in."

The Robinson mailing also seeks to tie Miller to Markos Moulitsas Zuniga, a Californian who runs The Daily Kos, the nation's largest liberal Internet blog. The Robinson literature describes Moulitsas, who is a married Army veteran, as a "militant homosexual rights advocate" under the headline: "Brad Miller's San Francisco Soul Mate."

Miller said Robinson was clearly using code words to suggest that Miller is gay. Miller said his only connection is that he, like numerous other congressmen and former President Jimmy Carter, posts a diary on Moulitsas' Web site to reach millions of Democrats. Miller recently met Moulitsas for the first time at a Raleigh book signing.

The article was written by a local paper, and I haven't exhaustively researched this, but the few things I've already read are pissing me off. And I mean beyond the base and inhumane attack on a fellow infertile. What really gets me is the attempt to balance the analysis of the two candidates, instead of presenting the obviously true perspective that Robinson is a total nutbag. Something similar happened in Illinois when Obama was running: after the Republican frontrunner, a ManBarbie who turned out to have taken his famous actress wife to sex clubs in Paris (oops!), dropped out, Alan Keyes came to town and joined the race last-minute. I don't know how that guy wasn't ridiculed out of town the first day, but he managed to get like 33% of the vote. I believe it was because no local paper ever ran the completely accurate and true headline: "Keyes: Nutbag."

I'm supposed to be working, so I'd better get to that. But I'm anxiously awaiting posts from Amanda later today and Thalia tomorrow, so mostly it will be a few days of hitting refresh. Good luck, you two, and fervent, fervent good wishes.