Waiting

Currently we are on day 3 of the 2 week waiting (currently referred to as the 2ww in the jargon of infertiles) period after what we have most likely decided to be our third and final attempt of medically enhanced fertility. I know you picked up on the "most likely" in that statement. It goes back and forth from "it will be" to "it will probably be" in my thinking and with each of our conversations. Thinking of it as our "last ditch effort" raises the angst associated with it to another level, but on the reverse side, this being the "last" is the first step on the road to closure which I have been finding ourselves heading towards.

Rationally I know we've already given Ochsner more money than many spend on a car without a single answer or result, and our time, tears, and emotion spent could fill the Mississippi. But acceptance is difficult, especially when you read success stories and watch so many others find just the right cocktail of medication or procedure. But holding onto that, keeping endless appointments, taking injections, having ultrasounds, and having it on the brain all the time is no way to live either. My prayers are for acceptance and strength these days.

Injections in the thigh each night are not fun. Pills that make me queazy are not fun. Undressing for ultrasounds every other day is not fun. Progesterone suppositories are not fun. But this "2ww" is agonizing. My days have been spent googling phrases...post IUI symptoms, pregnancy symptoms, hCG symptoms subside, symptoms 3 days past IUI, symptoms 4 days past IUI, hCG shot and home pregnancy test, IUI and implantation, follistim, poor endometrial lining with IUI. Believe me, the list goes on...I even wonder if I changing "3 days past IUI" to "72 hours 35 minutes past IUI" would turn up more relevant hits with just the answer to my question.

Crazy, right? Obsessive, right? Well, not really. Amazingly, what I have learned from doing this is that I am not crazy and nor am I alone. That there are millions of women out there thinking these same things, asking these same questions, and experiencing the same feeling of aloneness and do I dare say desperation. Not really the adjective that I like to put in the same sentence as my feelings, but that's what it is.

So not obsessively crazy, and it has given me some perspective into the lives of other women and couples faced with infertility, and has validated my feelings. And in the process of punching in these seemingly obscure terms into the search engine, I have found some "answers" to my questions. That tingly feeling I had three days after IUI wasn't implantation as that doesn't happen until day 6 or 10, but maybe that lower back ache and turning tummy mean I am pregnant...or maybe it is just what I had for lunch, but some woman can tell on a home pregnancy test nine days after, some ten days after, some eleven days after.

You get the picture.

No answers.

Just a two week wait.

Grasshopper this morning

He didn't appear to be munching on my plants, so I didn't smash him, but I can remember walking around the yard in Houma with Maumie, my great grandmother, and she took no sympathy on these pests. The grasshoppers in her garden were big, nearly twice this size, and black, and she pop them flat right between her hands. I was impressed as a child, and as think of her now I am smiling thinking of the story that kind of defines her personality...using a shovel to chop a snake in the road in two, without a wince, so that her grandchildren and great grandchildren could cross without fear. That was Maumie.

Game Over

Tomorrow, it's back to work for me.

I have a week of training before going back to teaching the following week.

Sigh.

I know, I know, most have little sympathy for me, but I am really blue about it. I will most likely come down with a mild case of the "back to school flu," headache, tired, maybe even a soar throat. Something about getting back into a work routine does it to me.

I suppose I'll start marking the holidays on my calender tomorrow during the first break.

Yes, I have a lawn ornament

Introducing, Mr. Al E. Gator...


He was a birthday gift from my dear hubby.

This is not his permanent home, I don't think. He's three pieces: head, back, tail. I'll have to wait to tidy up the flower beds before I decide where he'll lurk.

Brugmansia this morning

The angel trumpet looks and smells beautiful! I need find a way to put scents on this blog!

I just needed a pie

Last night about 2:00 am I began a stint of tossing and turning in bed, restless, unable to sleep, next to Charlie, who, usually at this time is snoring away and dreaming of roasted pig and coleslaw. But, last night the man was up, reading in a dim light, the last tale in his beloved Harry Potter series. Poor dear had to resist reading until the first draft of his qualifying exam was in the hands of his advisor. And now he's under the gun to finish because it'll be any day now that he gets a beat down from this advisor, complete with a list of revisions to be made.

So as I flopped from belly to back and to my belly again, I could sense his irritation as HE WAS READING HARRY POTTER!!! and needed to remain undisturbed. But that really didn't matter to me. Insensitive I know, but I couldn't sleep. Much to his chagrin I took to chatting with him about what he thought of the book, what he had done that night as I began my slumber, and what he had planned for tomorrow. I also mentioned that I had an unusually strong craving for a Hubig Pie. Yes, a gooey, apple filled pie from Savory Simon the pie man.

And then I mentioned it again. Knowing there was no end to this chatter, the man roused me out of bed at 2:30 in the morning and loaded me in the car in my pink samurai pjs and off to the 24 hour Walgreens we headed. Wouldn't you know I wasn't the only one in the city with a hankering for a pie?

Really, among all the sketchy characters in the city who convened at the 24 hour drugstore at at 2:30 am, there was another person in search of a Hubig treat. And he shared a smile over it with Charlie as they waited in line. Yet another reason why I have a hard time ever imagining us living anywhere else. I had another moment similar to this a few weeks ago when I realized where else will I find a 300 pound woman, grinning ear to ear, greeting you at the French bakery with a "Bonjour, how can I help you baby?"with an accent that only a 300 pound New Orleanian has?

This is home, and perhaps it takes someone a bit unusual herself to appreciate such nuances of home. I mean, I am at the drugstore at 2:30 am in search of a 89cents pie. That pie hit the spot, and I crawled back into bed with sugar crumbs on my pjs, and went right back to sleep, perfectly content.

Hummingbirds!

I had two hummingbirds in the yard this afternoon poking their beaks into the cigar plant and the flowering maple. No photos to document, but believe me, I tried. I feel as though I need to hang a feeder for them, but I also like knowing they are just enjoying what I've planted.

Notice of Favorable Determination

We've received paperwork from U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services that our application for a child of "either gender, age birth up to two years" has been approved and forwarded to the American Embassy in Tegucigalpa, Honduras.

Not bad considering we initiated the application on March 15th, had fingerprints on April 12, and had to redo some paperwork the second week of June. So now I need to get down to business, and get this paperwork knocked out. I have been unmotivated to do it because there is so much, and I am not totally sure I am doing it all correctly. It is kind of trial and error when working with Honduran courts. But I have 18 months from the 21st of July to get this process completed before the orphan petition with Immigration expires. How's that for a motivator?

Let's hope Charlie's passport renewal gets processed before the 18 month mark. The press concerning passports has made us a bit nervous.

So, now, as I look at our approval I think it would have been better to have expressed a more flexible range in ages for our potential child. The approval is based on the home study, which was based on interviews with us. When we started this process we decided we really wanted a child under 2 years. And we still do. However, throughout this all we have changed our views on us as parents and adoption, and are open to older children and sibling groups as well. In speaking with the ever so helpful USCIS agent (please note the sarcasm in my voice), I understood that the change of the approval wouldn't be difficult (it's all relative!) but would require an addendum to the home study and immigration paperwork. I suppose we will cross this bridge when we come to it, if a child over the age of two or a sibling group should present itself as the match for our family. But, I know for next time, right?

So my goals today include contact personnel for my school district to compose a letter regarding my employment as well as locating the Honduran Consulate in Houston who I've been told has some experience with adoptions and the necessary paperwork. Regular updates to follow from here on out!

Yes, that would be my leg

...minus one of my many moles and a suture to replace it.

I broke down and went to the dermatologist today after canceling an appointment 1 year ago because I had a sunburn. Yes, cancelled because I had a sunburn. The last thing I wanted was a fussing from a doctor about how bad the sun is for your skin. So I did the logical thing. I pushed all of my skin cancer and mole concerns aside until the sunburned subsided, and another appointment fit nicely into my schedule.

So here we are, one year later, just returning from the beach with yet another sunburn. Will I ever learn my lesson, you ask? Probably not, but I did manage to take my peeling nose and shoulders into the doctor's office because I have become just that concerned over skin cancer. Although not quite concerned enough to apply SPF 50 religiously, but concerned enough to sit through a dermotological lecture filled with information that I already know.

I've always had freckles and develop 100 or so more each year. And the moles are just integral with my being. On my face, my neck, my belly. They used to bother me, but I have actually become quite fond of them and hated to think they'd ever turn cancerous on me. After all, I have kinda thought of them to be one of my defining physical characteristics, albeit a characteristic I have in common with one Uncle Yetto, kin to Emmy.

After reading my share of skin cancer articles in magazines this year, I thought I may have two suspicious moles, and sucked up my pride, and lotioned that peeling nose and went to the doctor.

That's a blue nevus, she said as I pointed to the first. I'm not so concerned about it, *but* let's take it off.

Not concerned, she says, but she didn't even take a breath before telling me she wanted to "punch" out my mole.

And to the one on my belly: This concerns me a bit more, but we'll just watch this one.

Go figure.

So today I am less one mole and watching another. She didn't quite give me the tongue lashing I expected over the sunburned nose, but she did hand me some "reading material" that I promptly deposited into the trash receptacle as I exited the elevator. But, I have made a promise to myself to be better about the SPF coverage. I'd hate to lose another piece of me, even if it is one of the bumps that gives Charlie the willies!

Ahhh...

While Batture shudders in fear over our house guests under four feet tall...


Muppet laps up the undivided attention.

Happy Birthday, Daddy

You continue to amaze generation after generation...


with your tricks and games...


Even when we peek.


You are amazing!

Perdido Key

We headed to the beach this weekend with my sister and her family, Daddy, and Cindy. It's been lots of fun in the sun, with some crab eating thrown in!



Nothing like sitting on the beach...reading, chatting, and just enjoying each other and the view.



We haven't been to Perdido Key or the Florida-Alabama gulf coast for three years. We were looking forward to see the coast and feeling the saltwater on our face.



Charlie was eager to try his hand at some gulf fishing after our successful stints in Montana and Minnesota.

So they fished.


And fished.


And fished.


Not a single bite as of this writing. No, I take that back. Charlie did manage to reel in one little, bitty fish and a crab. But not a keeper, or even a photograph worthy fish.

Luckily there were lots of other activities to keep us busy.

Kite flying...


Castle building...




And playing in the surf.





Audrey puts on the sweet talk...not sure what she was trying to convince her daddy of.


Maybe she was hoping for a pose like the one from her grandpa....


Daddy was showing of just how macho he was...the last remaining person in the gulf as we felt the temperature drop and watched the storm roll in.

We enjoyed some surf and turf dinners, with a variety of desserts to finish it off. Audrey's got the sweet tooth of a true Olav.esen woman! She's cute enough to get away with ordering three desserts! (That the girls would share, of course.)


We made it to the Crab Trap. Thankfully the Crab Trap made it through the last storm to pound the beach. It was love at first bite for Charlie three years ago. He would mention the restaurant a few times a year for the past three years and we finally made it there on Saturday. Just as he remembered...crab soup, hot crab dip, crab and shrimp dip, king crab, blue crab, Alaskan crab, Dungeness crab.


Charlie only got to stay for the weekend, as his exam writing called, and an empty house meant he could potentially get lots done. But, I can assure you we'll be back before the year's end. The sun, sand, and crab are too much to pass up.

Oh no you don't...

"You're not leaving me," he says.


While I was packing for the beach Muppet shuffled his way up the stairs and dropped is dear pink ball into my suitcase. Poor pooch.

Celebrating Thirty Three

In the car after dinner last night

Last week we celebrated the week of my birth, 33 years ago.

Our celebration began at the lake with cake, ice cream, and the "Happy Birthday to You" song. The week continued with extra sweet attentiveness from my honey. And when I didn't get my way, I could use the "But it's my birth week" line and turn things around.

Wouldn't you know on the day of my birth, he forgot. Yep, forgot. No breakfast in bed, no sweet text message with birthday wishes, and not even a happy birthday kiss. I planned to wait until the 10th to break the news to him, but it just flew out of my mouth about 6:30 that evening as we walked side by side on the treadmills.

He, of course, felt awful. The look on his face said it all. Now, there may have been a time in my life where that's exactly what I hoped to accomplish, but not the case with Charlie. It actually tickled me that the man, who enters EVERYTHING into his cellphone calender had managed to forget his wife's birthday.

And Charlie celebrates me everyday. He asks about my work day and my students by name. He patiently endures my rants about this and that. He sends unsolicited, sweet text messages and emails. He likes sitting in the kitchen with me while I cook dinner. Believe me, the man celebrates me and us. I'll take that any day over a single day of attention.

But I do think I will suggest to him that we change this birth week celebration into a birth month celebration, and that he enter the date into his calender for next year!

Watch out Martha

Yesterday I was meeting Emmy for a coffee in the late afternoon and decided to bring my friend a treat from my garden, flowers and figs.

I shooed off the cardinals feasting on the ripe figs as sweat dripped off the tip of my nose, and wondered why we never see Martha Stewart in this state as she prepares one of her fanciful garden projects.

Despite my time in the yard in my holey t-shirt and frizzy hair, I did manage to feel a bit Martha-esque as I walked out the door with my bouquet of caterpillar nibbled flowers and fresh figs in many stages of ripeness. And believe it or not, there is something very satisfying about that.

Who's reading this?

Check out the "cluster map" in the side bar. It shows where in the U.S. this blog's hits are coming from.

Interesting.

Butterlfies this morning

The garden is full of butterflies flitting around from flower to flower.


When I was taking these photos I counted 14. 14 butterflies!


The are attracted to the zinnias and coneflowers the most from what I have observed. The monarchs are partial to the milkweed.


It was difficult for me to be patient and stand still to get a good photo and let the butterfly take it's time and land on the flowers nearby as it is so hot outside! I was getting cranky just being outside for the few minutes to take these photos.


I much rather stand in the kitchen and watch their dance through the window.

Until next year

Goodbye mosquitos.
Goodbye fishies.
Goodbye walks on the dirt road.
Goodbye fish fries.
Goodbye People magazines.
Goodbye mismatched outfits (or so I hope).
Goodbye kayak.
Goodbye chipmunks scampering for seeds.
Goodbye new recipes a la JD.
Goodbye loon calls at night.
Goodbye outdoor showers.
Goodbye Mister Twisters.
Goodbye naps in the hammock.
Goodbye orioles, red winged blackbirds, and hummingbirds on the feeders.
Goodbye eagles and ospreys tending to your babies.
Goodbye yummy burned desserts from our favorite 20 year old stove.
Goodbye Pudge, JD, and GG.
Goodbye Pelican Lake.

What's in a name?

At the lake we use a plastic cup for the week to cut down on dishes and to conserve.

Your name gets penned onto the cup upon arrival.

Charlie decides on the names each year.

This year I became CheeWee la Roux, and he was appropriately named Cheeky Cheeky Charles.

It's a Glorious Day on Pelican Lake

We headed to fish lake to take turns paddling for a few hours along the Pelican River. We loaded the kayak and drove the pontoon over.

JD and Pudge went first while we hung out in Fish Lake.


We did a bit of fishing, took a dip, and hung around and read while they explored the river.




I love the waterlilies.


No beavers home today.


This loon popped up from the water right next to the boat, but then quickly made his decent back underwater. I think we startled him, when I went for the camera. Couldn't get a photo of him close up. I am pretty impressed by how far he swam underwater before popping up again.


We didn't take the camera on our kayak, but saw an eagle's nest and an osprey's nest. They were tending to their babies.

It was also a hard paddle back up river. I'm thinking the wind had more to do with that then the current. We loved it and look forward to exploring more of Minnesota's lakes and rivers.

Fixed up

I was informed earlier that many of my photos from Pelican Lake were not loading. I think I have fixed the errors, and the previous posts should be ready for viewing.

Can I keep him?

The chipmunks are just so damn cute. I love them. Wondering why we don't have these at home. They are considered to be somewhat a nuisance, like sqirrels, but I am enthralled by them.

Row!

The new toy at the lake this year is a kayak!

Row!

Not right! Left!

Charlie accuses moi of having no rhythm. As. If.


In synch at last.


He'll teach me...

Sending us both into the lake.



I'm not much for the cold lake water, so he has found a way to force me in!