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"In this tempestuous, havoc-ridden world of ours, all real communication comes from the heart." | ||
- Etty Hillesum |
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February 27, 2006 |
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Personal trainers are not likeable. |
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Do you know what happens when you put two capfuls of strawberry bubble bath into a Jacuzzi tub and then turn on the pumps? I bet you do! Somehow, I thought that it wouldn�t be quite so foamy. I was wrong. The next day (she�s a genius, I tell you), I only put in one capful. Now who would�ve thought that you�d get just as many bubbles with half as much stuff? Geez! Ah, it�s all part of the fun. You just can�t quite lay back and relax when the bubbles are threatening to cut off your breathing � Have I given you a bidet update? I don�t think I have. It�s wonderful. Ranks right up there with some of the best money I�ve ever spent. I swear to you, there�s nothing like freshness at all hours of the day and night. Warm water spritz, warm air dry � why, it�s like Springtime all the time. I have to say, I�m a wee bit more sensitive anymore to my female parts. Mainly because I tend to find myself in rooms, strapped down to tables in the lithotomy position, for all the world to see. You know, when the doctor walks in and doesn�t even bother to make eye contact � just heads for the cooter and gets to work. So I find the bidet a little comforting. That I can pamper my privates is a beautiful thing. And the heated seat � it spoils you. I hate sitting on any other toilet seats anymore. Oh, the drama from Thursday and Friday is still there. Apparently she�s changed her mind about quitting her job. Which makes you go, �Hmmm.� I don�t know � maybe it sounds selfish or mean, but I just don�t have any emotional room in my life right now for someone who�s that flaky. I really don�t. I need friends who can roll with it. I�ve read about this phenomenon in other infertility journals and I�m really surprised to say it�s happening to me. I will preface this segment of the journal by saying the following: this was my husband�s idea, not mine. (Knowing me, you�d think it was my idea. And although I love the idea and there�s no turning back now, I can tell you for a fact that it didn�t come from my lips.) The phenomenon to which I refer is � The miscarriage dog. We already have one dog � and he�s definitely not our child substitute. At least, that�s what his pediatrician tells us. A few weeks ago Blue brought up the idea � of getting a second dog. �You know, to keep Zippy happy,� he said. Zippy, my ass. You want another dog! Admit it! HA! I�m psyched. Because truly, Zippy needs another dog. He loves playing with dog-friends and is kind of lonely and clingy at home. A canine buddy will help keep him happy. And if the elusive baby ever comes, he will transition much better if he�s got a four-legged pal to help him over his �I�m being replaced!� feelings. So is another dog the immediate byproduct of the ectopic pregnancy? No, of course not. But the time frame is such that I believe I can easily classify the new dog as the miscarriage dog. Let�s hope that we don�t have a whole kennel of the critters by next year sometime. I�m still on track do to a frozen embryo transfer at the beginning of April. I have to tell you � I�m actually sort of ambivalent about it. I think it�s mainly because it feels so far away � and because I don�t have to go through the huge annoying torture ritual to get to the finale � no thrice-daily shots, no thrice-weekly ultrasounds and blood tests � just a lot of hurry-up-and-wait. So it doesn�t feel real, first of all. And second � well � listen, I�m not having second thoughts about having a baby. But I am starting to reclaim some of my life from the infertility rollercoaster, and I have to say � I�m enjoying my free time. I�m enjoying what I�m working on in school and at work. I�m enjoying my free time. So � I�m not feeling the huge sense of urgency I had been feeling in the past. I think a part of it is the feeling of �I�ll never get pregnant� � why get all worked up about something that�s not going to work? Or is going to miscarry? Or be another ectopic? Or something worse? I�m reserved. Speaking of free time. I had the opportunity for a �free fitness counseling/evaluation� session at Bushwood Country Club. I took them up on it � I�m no dummy. Last Thursday I met with Bambi, head personal trainer at Bushwood. She was annoying as hell, and our �counseling� session turned into a �Whip Lucy into shape in one hour� session. She kicked my ass all over that gym, let me tell you. And I had the sore muscles for four days to prove it. I had the foresight to sign up for some more sessions � because if I hadn�t signed up then, I never would�ve gone back. I dreaded going back. The pain. The agony. The annoying Bambi, grinning at me and yelling �ONLY TWENTY MORE _insert exercise here_ TO GO!� But I signed up for it. We talked about the fact that as of the beginning of April, I�m back on �no exercise� for at least 2 and up to 12 weeks. No walking, no yoga, no sneezing � and I told her I wanted to get into shape before my forced hiatus from activity. �We can do it,� she said. �No problem.� I�m here to tell you, that bitch is committed. Me, I�m lazy and in it half-heartedly. But since I have the nazi drill instructor shouting at me twice a week, I�ve already started feeling a difference in my body and my energy level. She�s got four solid weeks to get my ass in shape, and I think she may just end up doing it. I�m sticking with it, if only to prove that I can. Sure, I�d also like to see some results. Who wouldn�t? I�ve got fifteen pounds of infertility-drug induced fat on my abdomen and thighs � let�s get rid of it so I can put it back on again!
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Last Few Entries |
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Back? - November 10, 2007 |
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� More about Etty Hillesum, the woman in the photo.� |
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