Sunday, March 23, 2014

If I Could Do Magic

If I could do magic, I'd choose a different adventure in the Choose Your Own Adventure book of life. Of course, there is the risk that I'd fall off a cliff or something, or get bitten by a poisonous snake.  Or maybe I'd win the lotto and could live in the seven mile area of Grand Caman (thanks House Hunters International).

This would do just fine. 

If I could do magic, I'd make these stress eating pounds disappear and get my spine to act right.  Also, no more ingrown toenails.  And no more teenwolf facial hair.

Yes, please thread all of this.  I know I know.  I was here last week.  I'm sorry.

If I could do magic, I'd make spring show up because winter has overstayed its welcome and I'm over wearing my winter coat.  Over it!!!!

If I could do magic, I'd teleport to work or have a driver or a helicopter.

If I could do magic, I'd be able to write full time and still be able to have lights and food.  Primarily food.  Food is really important to me.  Probably more important than it should be given that there was never a famine in the land.

If I could do magic, I'd find that missing plane.  I cannot imagine what the families of those people are going through.

If I could do magic, it'd be easier for me to ask for help without feeling like the biggest failure in life.

But I can't do magic. I'm a regular person.

I will make the best of every situation because my life is actually pretty awesome.

I will continue to eat better because this weight has got to get the hell up off me.

I will put that coat on because pneumonia is not what's up.

I will continue to work my side hustle until it becomes the main hustle.

I will continue to pray for the love ones of the missing plane.

I will continue to ask for help when I need it, even when other people make it not easy and make me feel as though I should be omnipresent and omnipotent.  I am human.  I can not do it all alone.  I should not have to.  I do not have to.   Even though I'm quite the bad ass :-)

This is the best most bad ass unicorn ever.  I totally need this as a super small tiny little miniature tattoo.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

49 days

7 weeks really isn't that long of a time period really.  If someone said, oh I'm going on vacation in 7 weeks, you'd probably think, oh that's not that long from now and what weirdo counts in weeks?!?!

7 weeks, 49 short days.

Unless it's been 7 weeks since your last period. Then 7 weeks is an eternity.

Before fertility, my cycles were fairly irregular, anywhere between 5 and 6 weeks.  Since Ladybug, they've been much more in sync, typically between 28 and 32 days.  And suddenly nothing. I didn't think too much of it until day 40.  And then I started to freak out...

You see.  Child care costs roughly a million dollars.  I don't have a million dollars.   Not even half a million, or a quarter of a million.  I did find $5 in my jacket pocket earlier in the week, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count.

Day 43 rolled around.  I start doing some calculations.  I'd be due 10/28, exactly 1 week after I became eligible for FMLA.  I calculated how long I'd be able to be on leave, how much extra benefits would cost, contemplated nursery options given the left over paint we have from previous projects.

Totally doable.  Well the paint.  Furniture would have to materialize out of thin air
Day 45 I tire of trying to explain to myself why my boobs hurt.  It can't be normal to feel like your nipple is going to shoot off your body.  I buy tests. But I do not pee on them.   Only suckas pee on tests.  I feel full, like I did when I was on fertility meds and had huge follicles before ovulation.

Day 47.  I can pretend no longer.  I realize that I need to start taking vitamins and marvel at the fact that my ovaries decided to get their act together.   I tell Jethro that I'm late (I'm like Fort Knox), he is unimpressed.   

Then I do what I spent three years doing.  Peeing on a stick and waiting.  I stared at it for 3 minutes.   

And then I did what I spent three years doing.  Looked at a negative.  

The best way to describe the feeling was both relief because money troubles are not fun and disappointment that my body was being wonky again. 

Day 49.  It arrives.  No fanfare.  No anything.  Just back again.  

And back to the doctor I go.

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I'm a 30-something wife, mom and pet parent. I've been blogging since 2004, at first solely on a blog for my friends and family. I love to write about everything. I can't say that A Bacon Flavored Life is about any one thing. If it occurs to me, it'll get posted. I write about life, love, infertility and a lot of "random".

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