Still 4dpt5dt Round 2

If you are unaware- there is an entire underworld on the interwebs that is dedicated solely to the POAS addiction, y’all.

I’d list the websites but for anyone that has been trying to have a baby (the majority of my audience I suspect) it is probably not necessary because you are already aware. And for those of you that aren’t, I don’t want to expose you to that world because- kind of like in the Matrix, Morpheus states that once you swallow that pill “there is no turning back” and it’ll show you just “how deep the rabbit-hole goes.” (Don’t you judge me… I used to teach it in conjunction to teaching 1984)

Anyway- I found these websites back when I first started learning about my body and ovulation and all things conception and uterus and I can now say that I know too much. I blame my Type A personality. 

I know that for many women they just decide one day, “hummm? I think I want a baby” and so they just have sex and BOOM it happens. And that’s awesome for them. 

But then there are many women that try that and keep trying and then start worrying. And reading. That was me. I didn’t get pregnant right away (though I did not truly have to struggle like so many women I know) and in my panic I decided to arm myself with knowledge. 

And, while it is awesome to know my body so well, it also sucked the fun out of the baby making process AND I fell into the aforementioned rabbit-hole. 

All THAT to say that my seedy POAS addict friends on the interwebs who are professional pee stick analyzers say that there is something on this damn test: 


Don’t worry if you don’t see it. The untrained (i.e. Not crazy person) eye might not. For instance, my husband looked at it and said, “no. Nope, not even a speck.” (He has a penis- what the hell does he know about pregnancy!?! Nothing!) 

But- if I’m crazy at least I know I’m not alone. 

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TRANSFER DAY round 2 part I

So, yesterday morning I was a bit of a mess. Nervous to say the least. I never sleep well the night before travel, the “what ifs” get to me (what if I forget this, what if I don’t hear my alarm, what if I misplace my ID, etc.). But Saturday night there were a lot more what ifs to keep my poor tired mind racing. 

Anyway- as I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I slept like shit. So, first, I was tired. 

On the first leg of the trip I figured I might help myself get my mind off the hamster wheel if I read. And it worked. No more “what ifs” bouncing around in the ole cranium and I was able to dive into teacher mode. I decided to teach my AP seniors Cather In the Rye this year but I needed to brush up since it’s been over a decade since I had read it last. 

After the first flight I was halfway and my funk had morphed from anxiousness to straight up sadness. Poor Holden. 😢

But, I appreciated the change. I can handle sad. Anxiousness over a bunch of shit I am literally in no control over is stupid.  So I could say I felt better. I talked to Jesse (since he’s also read it) as we walked through the airport and it was nice to be focusing our conversation on something besides surrogacy for a bit. 

But then, on the second flight, I finished the book. And good heavens the sadness was overwhelming. I did not remember it being such a heavy story when I read it back in the day. I mean I knew it approached some tough subjects, but I just forgot how some of those subjects manifested themselves in the storyline. Anyway, I figured it was best not to break down sobbing sandwiched inbetween my husband and a complete stranger because the cry I felt boiling up was NOT going to be a pretty one. 

I held myself together mostly well. I had one stray tear I was not able to blink away but covered it up with a yawn- important to note, I needed to NOT alert my ever so observant husband because one look of concern, or one squeeze, or one “are you okay?” would have unleashed all the stress, anxiousness, and sadness that was damed up behind the wall I had carefully constructed to protect the stranger lady sitting far to close to my left on the damn plane. 

Instead, mentally, I needed to change the subject. So I grabbed the only other reading material on the plane and started reading whatever the Southwest plane magazine is titled. Guys. I didn’t see it coming! 

That fucking magazine. 

Inside, after you get past the 549 ads, but before you get to the articles (which were happy dog stories BTW), they have a bunch of customer satisfaction blurbs. Always positive stories about how someone was just “so pleased” with Southwest’s service or flight attendants, etc. I just got blind sided. 

The first blurb was about a guy who was moving his elderly mother to come live with him. She had dementia and when it came time to deplane, she had an episode and couldn’t figure out what to do. The guy panicked but this male flight attendant stepped right up and asked the mother is she would like to dance. From there he was able to get her out of her seat, down the aisle, and into the jetway where he waltzed her up the gate. 😢 so beautiful and sweet and friggin sad. So one of those pesky tears started creeping back up and I quickly wiped it away before my eagle eyed husband saw me. 

I kept reading. 

The next story was about a lady who’s daughter had married a marine but he was out of the country serving so the mom was “her person” when it came time for the delivery of the baby. The daughter went into early labor so this first time grandma was rushing to make it there in time. A flight attendant had heard her story so when they landed, she made an announcement and requested all the passenengers stay seated so this lady could rush off the plane and make it to her grand baby’s birth.  Everyone accommodated and as this soon-to-be grandmother rushed off, she was applauded. 

Yep- THAT’s the story that did me in. First one tear- again quickly wiped away. But then another stared falling from the other eye. Again, I quickly wiped it away too but now I was running the risk of alerting my husband who would inevitably ask me that stupid question that WILL break the damn and I’ll be a sniveling idiot who will probably somehow slobber on the poor lady next to me and then Southwest will have to deal with her complaint instead of her “I love this airline” story. 

As I sat trying to mentally get control, the tears- one by one kept welling up. All the pressure behind the dam was too much and finally saw a chance for escape. And as I kept trying to nonchalantly wipe those little fuckers away, my husband turned. Damn it. 

His forehead wrinkled, the look of concern grew stronger, and then he did it. He put his arm around my shoulder and drew me in for a hug all while asking me if I was okay. 

No. No im not okay. I just read a really sad book about teenage trials and then read the sappiest of stories, AND I’M TRYING TO HELP A FAMILY HAVE A BABY AND I SCREWED IT UP LAST TIME AND IM WORRIED I’LL DO IT AGAIN AND THE PRESSURE OF ALL THAT POTENTIAL DISAPOINTMENT IS RUINING MY MENTAL STRENGTH. 

But instead, I melted into my husband and tried to stifle the sobs into his shoulder so the lady next to me wouldn’t be as startled by the craziness she accidentally sat next to. 

Eventually the sobs eased and I sat back (with my now mascara stained face) and shrugged to my completely understanding husband, who, thankfully, knows that sometimes I just need to let it out. I always feel better afterwards. There’s no need to talk about anything and nothing is technically wrong… I just needed to cry. 

I did warn you guys about that a few days ago… I knew it was coming! 

We deplaned in CA, hopped in the rental, and had a beautifully relaxing afternoon following ZERO schedule and soaking up the ever so rare ability to be spontaneous. 

It still lingers…

It’s a strange feeling.  I’m super excited to be moving forward with another transfer and I really hope that this one is successful- to the point of desperation.  But it is slightly overcast by the lingering feelings the miscarriage left in its wake.  Does that ever go away?

Everything is the same, essentially, this go round and with that there is a comfort.  I know the meds and protocols (at least superficially).  I know what to expect.  I know the sights and sounds of the room where it will all take place. I know where the hotel is located and I know where it is in relation to the clinic.  I know where my husband and I will probably eat dinner when we get there and I know where we will probably go get coffee the morning of the transfer.  I know how I will feel after.  And again, all these things bring a sense of comfort and familiarity that eases my Type A anxiety levels.

But overshadowing this comfort is a sadness that I can’t shake.  I am sad that we didn’t succeed the first time.  I am sad that I know the meds and I am not nearing the end of my shots like I should have been this week.  I am sad that I am going back to CA because we have to do it all again. I am terribly sad that because of the scheduling, the IF won’t be in the room this time (like he was last).  I’m just bummed too.  I can’t help it.

I know people that shake off miscarriages, especially early term ones like ours, and seem to be just fine after a day or so- perhaps to outside people, maybe I seemed that way.  I don’t really know.  I also know women, especially those that have suffered many reoccurring miscarriages, who don’t ever seem to be able to shake the pain.  And, frankly, I worry that I will forever be scarred by this.

Please don’t get me wrong, I am not depressed and I certainly don’t think about it constantly, but I do find myself going back to the “if only” thoughts or the “what ifs” more often than I would like.  And, to people who don’t understand surrogacy, many might think that it is silly for me to feel this way because it wasn’t even my child.  But this almost seems worse. I had two people who were counting on me and four people (my husband and I included) that were so excited— there were extended families who were also excited and the miscarriage robbed all of them of that joy.

It’s so daunting to think about.  I try not to let my thoughts spiral out of control that way very often, but the thoughts are there— always.

And today, after getting the itinerary from the agency, and the message from the IP’s that the IF isn’t going to be able to make it- my heart just hurts a bit.  It was so perfect the first go round and I hate that it didn’t work out.  I hate that he won’t be able to be there in the room this go round.

I didn’t think I would feel that way.  In fact, my husband and I were just talking, last night, about how if the IF can’t make it that it will take an element of stress out of the trip.  We can just eat a take out dinner in our PJ’s in bed at the hotel instead of having to get dressed and meet at a restaurant.  And we were discussing how it would be easier on the IP’s as well.  The IM won’t be single parenting in her husband’s absence and the IF won’t have to adjust to a terrible time change just to accommodate/entertain us. It’s just easier this way, but really, when I think about it- I’m sad.

It’ll be fine- I know it will be fine.  And everything will work out the way it’s supposed to, but I’m just a bit melancholy today.  Perhaps its the combination of it all- the events in Las Vegas, my husband going out of town for work for two days, the friggin poem I’m teaching (“An Echo Sonnet- To and Empty Page”), and the stress of gearing up for the trip.  Who knows.

I just need a sad movie and a box of tissues- then I’ll be better.

(Instead I will have to grade 170 thesis statements and 85 analysis paragraphs- but perhaps the result will be the same: lots of crying and release, then I’ll be better.)

Lining check round 2

I am excited to be moving forward and one step closer to another transfer. 

Distracting from all the excitement, however, is the planning and coordination involved this go round. It was summer last time and much easier to maneuver. This time there are kids to be dressed, breakfasts to be made, kids to be dropped off at school, and work (for me) that I’d rather not be late to! 

My appointment is at 8, but I’m going to get there early and hope it goes quickly so I don’t miss my first period class. 

My husband is doing breakfast with kids and carline at school for me so I can get to the appointment on time. 

We have chatted with the IP’s and this time, instead of the last girl embryo, they are going to go with the highest quality one. It’s a boy. This takes some of the pressure off, though I’m still a bit more nervous this go round. 

I know my angst won’t do anyone any favors, but I just hope things go smoothly. I want so badly to give these parents a healthy baby and I know they are getting anxious about timing. We all are. 
Will update later with results of scan! 

Life as we know it

Mom coffee

Any other mom’s out there feel this way?  No?  Just me??!

I swear I look around me and the other mom’s out there just seem to have their shit together all the time.  I understand that it is just a glimpse, a snapshot, of their day, but I feel so frazzled all the time! And I swear you can see it on my physical being, you know?!  Like when you decide not to put your face on for a day and people are all, “are you not feeling well?”  And you’re all, “Well, I was feeling fine, but now I feel a little shitty, but thanks.”  Except instead of sick I just look frazzled- I feel as though people look at me and think, “Man, she needs a break… or a shot… or a massage… something!”

Here’s my week day dash:

  • 5:20- alarm wakes me up… kinda (SNOOZE)
  • 5:30- for real, get your ass up alarm.
  • 5:35-6:35- YOGA (I love this part of my day, the quiet, the dark, the focus on JUST ME)
  • 6:35-7:10- Shower and dress myself.  Husband wakes up and starts breakfast.
  • 7:00-7:20- Dress kids and get them to the breakfast table.
  • 7:20-7:45- eat breakfast, pack up lunches, get Tucker to pee before getting in the car, change Sage’s diaper for school, get in the car.
  • 7:50- Drive to kid’s school
  • 8:00-8:15- hang out in the pick-up line.  We usually sing songs or watch half and episode of Daniel Tiger.
  • 8:15-8:30- BUST MY ASS TO GET TO MY JOB WHERE I WAS SUPPOSED TO REPORT BY 8… Heaven forbid there be traffic because I might ram someone.
  • 8:30-8:40- get myself organized and caffeinated before the kids pour into my classroom.
  • 8:40-12:50- TEACH all the kids all the things all without food or water because when the hell do I have time to get to the bathroom?!?
  • 12:50-1:40- LUNCH (and usually some kid making up an assignment or just hanging out in my room because I am not mean enough to tell them to GTFO)
  • 1:45-3:10- Teaching again
  • 3:10-4:00- Getting everything ready for class the next day (Copies, grading, teacher meetings, etc)
  • 4:00-4:20- Drive home
  • 4:20-5:20- unpack lunches and school bags, clean coffee pot, straighten up kitchen, take care of diapers (we do cloth, yes, I realize I could simplify things by going to disposable but Climate Change), get bags ready for next day, help get kids to clean up some toys (or not, because “I’m still playing!!!”), snuggle kids, wipe runny noses, you know… mom stuff.  SOMETIMES we do a family walk during this time (but that is not nearly as picturesque or calming as it sounds, I promise).
  • 5:20-5:45- Prep dinner while kids scream, yell, bother each other until someone is crying and I’m about to go bat-shit crazy (or, I turn on a show… whew, quiet).
  • 5:45-6:30ish- eat dinner and clean up dinner (husband and I take turns with meals and clean up)
  • 6:30-7:00- Bathe kids and get them in PJ’s (Other parent finishes cleaning kitchen or house and toys that kids didn’t put up)
  • 7:15- Story for Tucker then kisses and lights out. (Sage gets to run around like an only child for an additional 45 minutes since she naps and I put lunches together)
  • 8:00- Sage goes to bed.
  • 8:00-9:00— adult time… which is usually spent doing laundry or some other chore that we haven’t finished.  Also, since I have 170 students and it’s English, I usually have some sort of grading to do… but I try DESPERATELY to get this done during my work day because it isn’t fair to my family otherwise. There is usually one day a week that I will have to grade for a few hours and that is always after kids are in bed.
  • 9:15- lock down house, get ready for bed (shots and pills for surrogacy)
  • 9:30- my head hits the pillow and I’m usually asleep not long after (unless I am not done grading!)

It’s exhausting.

Someone tell me it gets easier?  And if not, how the hell did I not know this is what my death would look like????

This

So, immediately following the misscarriage, a dear friend, who I taught with for a decade and who is a lover of words, sent this to me and I can’t even begin to explain how it helped. 


I know a lot of women out there struggling with infertility, or in the throws of motherhood, or just struggling to exist who can probably relate. 

Its message is so true. We don’t ever know how we will do it— but inevitably it gets done.  We adapt or we die. 

Anyway, to this friend (you know who you are) I say thanks in all the ways that the words can’t truly express. I love you. 

And to everyone else. Just keep on keeping on as best you can. You got this. 

Next Steps (Some Good News, Finally)

Last I left off, my beta level was considered “not pregnant” at 3.36 and we were waiting to hear from someone at the CA Clinic what was next. 

I figured, when I didn’t get an immediate orders for another blood draw, that perhaps they were working on a calendar. (🤞🏻) They are usually really quick on sending orders so I figured that no news was good news and told the IP’s just that. 

It was Wednesday around 6:30 pm (damn time difference drives me nuts) when I finally got an email (almost a whole week after the blood draw 🙄).

It had orders for my baseline ultrasound, my med calendar (all the same), and my lining check and blood draw. 

  • Baseline- MONDAY, Sept. 18- 8:00 am. As well as last day of BC
  • Meds- estrogen 3xday as well as baby aspirin, prenatal, vit D, & DHA supplement nightly
  • Lining check Oct. 3rd- (roughly 2 weeks after baseline)
  • Then, I assume if it goes like last time (which WAS technically successful), 6 days of nightly progesterone shots. 
  • TRANSFER date of Oct. 9th 🤞🏻🤞🏻🎉

I am thinking they will use their last little girl embryo (depending on thawing) and I am going to do lots of deep breathing to prevent the stress I feel when I think about how it’s the last one. I hate that feeling. I really don’t want to ruin their chances of getting a take home little baby 🎀girl 🎀. 😬😬😬

Also- my dad said that his doctor said treatments aren’t “in any rush” and he can schedule them at his leisure (he travels for work and once the treatments start- it’s 8 weeks straight 5xa week! 😳).  BUT, I feel like that means it isn’t too scary if they are willing to let him start in a month vs telling him they need to get after it right away. It can’t be that bad, then, right?! We also found out that the treatments are only 15 minutes long and have no serious side effects (no nausea, no hair loss, no loss of appetite, no pain during or residual, etc.). So that makes the whole thing seem way less scary! Whew. It’s still cancer and that’s so intimidating, but I’m confident he will be fine. 

Anyway- I don’t know if bad things must happen in 3’s. Perhaps the 3rd thing already happened and I just missed it because- uh— CANCER. But right now, today, things are looking up. 

I’m going to be more careful this go round. I don’t know that my behaviors need to change (I followed Dr. orders to a T, straight down to the no orgasms rule 😑) but I will certainly not be putting the cart before the horse like I did last time. I’ll steel my heart and mind a bit better until I’m released to my OB and the “danger zone” if far less drastic. 
So- that’s all for now. At some point this weekend I’ll have to force myself to sit and grade these damn essays. 170 of them 😩. But until then, I’ll enjoy one of my last days of drinking and go love on my family!

Lots of Waiting… and another hit.

I have found my rhythm.

Our family has found their rhythm… for the most part (hell, I’m dealing with a 3 year old and an 20 month old- there’s only so much that can be done). But, by and large, the problem areas that come with any new routine are starting to smooth out and things are working like a well-oiled machine.

I’ve appreciated the start of work and the busyness of all that entails as a much needed distraction from the miscarriage and the turmoil it left in its wake (my husband and I have been talking about moving and had made plans to do so next summer since we’d be finished with the surrogacy and it would be a perfect time to transition to a new state, new job, new school for the kids, etc.- That’s all been totally screwed up now. Argh…). Being back to work has helped give me something else to direct my attention towards- projects, assignment sheets, how to fine tune my lessons, grading 170 papers (etc.).  Essentially it makes all the waiting around seem a bit more bearable.  It also helps pass the time.  I’m so busy that I rarely have a minute to even process all the waiting since there is so much filling up my day that I don’t have time to worry.  It’s a good thing.

A week after going in and learning we would miscarry, my BETA was around 190.  But since I started bleeding that Monday, the CA Clinic Doc instructed me to start birth control again that Friday (5 days after the bleeding started).

A week after that blood draw I went in for another (this past Thursday), my BETA level was down to 3.  Anything under 5 is considered NOT pregnant but the nurse I have been communicating with originally instructed that we were waiting for the number to drop to ZERO.  When the lady called to tell me the results both the nurse and the doc for the CA Clinic were out of the office for the day so she couldn’t tell me what the 3 means as far as next steps.  Essentially she told me there are two options but I will hear officially soon.

  1. The 3.36 is NOT zero so I need to go in on Thursday and have ANOTHER blood draw that will hopefully have the beta ALL. THE. WAY. DOWN. and then we can move forward with another calendar.
  2. The 3.36 is “low enough” and they will go ahead and make plans and issue me another calendar for the next transfer date.

That phone call came on Friday so I am really hoping that I will know which of those two options will become my fate TODAY!  Any minute now… I hope.

On to the more personal info…

They say bad things happen in 3’s.  So one was obviously the miscarriage.  And then the second bad thing hit me last week on the day of the blood draw.  My dad had a procedure done, a biopsy.  It was exploratory and he kept telling me it was nothing and not to worry.  But, the results of the biopsy are in and my worst fears were confirmed: Prostate Cancer. I was sent reeling, once again.  I won’t get into all that- but I will say that I am petrified of what the 3rd thing will be.  I’m not sure my physical state and mental health can handle much more.

I don’t really know how to end this blog as it’s been tough to reprocess it all as I write it down.  But I do know that it will all work out.  It always does (just not always how we think it will).

Blind Corners and More Waiting…

I hate not knowing how things work and how to plan for them.  My type A personality doesn’t deal well with not being in control.  So I find myself googling things like, “how long will it take to start bleeding during a miscarriage?” or “When will my BETA numbers be back down to zero after miscarriage?”  or “How long before I can do another FET after miscarriage?”

The consensus… everyone is different and really there is no telling.  *eyeroll*

So, I am waiting.  Ugh.  The sadness still lingers.  I am okay mostly, until I realize that now I have to start back at ground zero and the parents do too. Or until I realize that moving next summer, instead of being recovering from labor and delivery, I might be giant pregnant and miserable in the Texas heat.  Or until I realize that my current teaching schedule is NOT conducive to morning blood draws and early morning U/S visits (which is how the monitoring clinic here likes to schedule things). Or until I think of how glorious my schedule would have worked out perfectly for afternoon visits with my OBGYN. There are a ton of tiny little moments like this that I have to shake off throughout the day.

So, after a weekend of googling previously mentioned miscarriage questions and attempting to get some sort of contact from the CA Clinic to find out what will happen when and roughly how long it could be before we move forward with another try to make these IP’s a baby, I succumbed to just trying to breathe and find silver linings. I attempted to just “be okay with whatever” and “live in the now.” I do know that it will all be okay. I know that. I’d just like to know when.

On another note- today was my first day back with students. My teaching schedule is brutal.  I have 6 perios total and I teach the first 5 BACK TO BACK.  Which means I don’t really even have time to go to the bathroom between 8:30-1:30!  And, without processing time between classes, it’s hard to perfect my “spiel” and figure out which ways are most effective. AND I lose track of which classes I’ve said what to?!? Whew. It’s intense. To top it off, right in the middle of 4th period I become STARVING because I’ve been awake since 5:30 and my delicious breakfast that hubby made is no longer holding me over.

Its certainly going to take some time to adjust.  But I’ll find my groove. I always do.

This morning, since this whole taking the kids to school in addition to getting myself ready is still new, I forgot to take my “just in case I start bleeding” provisions with me in my bag. I figured it was the Murphy’s Law of Miscarriage:  If you aren’t ready for it (with pads or tampons etc.) it will surely come full on.  Right?!?  Maybe I could have taken this a step farther and tempted fate by wearing white?! Anyway, I was ill prepared but since it didn’t seem to be starting I figured it was alright to push my luck. Plus I teach on a hallway with women, surely one could help me out in my hour of need (if that hour should ever come?!?). And, there’s a nurse.

But, as it’s looking now, over halfway through my day, I won’t need anyone to rescue me and Murphy’s Law of Miscarriage is not a real thing. Boo. More waiting. 🙄

I did hear from the CA clinic today and will go in to the clinic here in TX on Thursday to have a blood draw and make sure BETA numbers are going down. So there’s progress. I’m curious; since my numbers were already so low, is there any chance they’ll be at zero by the time I go in for that draw?! I sure hope so.

************

PS- at 3:30 today as I was doing a quick re-read of this blog before publishing, I felt that all too familar gush. The dull back pain I had been experiencing early afternoon was not, in fact, due to standing all day in front of my classes but instead cramping. So perhaps Murphy’s Law of Miscarriage does work.

I feel it’s important to note that I am, by no means, making light of this situation. I am very devastated and rocked by this. To the point where my husband was worried that maybe being a surrogate is not a good idea. So, while this may seem as though it is not in good taste, please know that I do not mean to offend anyone who has ever gone through this or something much worse/more tragic. Again, my desire to be a surrogate is motivated by my desire to help ease the pain and suffering women who have struggled with this sort of thing and I am hugely humbled by now having experienced it myself. 

T-minus 6 days…

Friday (exactly 7 days from U/S and hopefully sweet release back to normal living) felt a lot like Tuesday since it was my second day back to work. 

I managed to be productive and get most of the pre-start-of-school paperwork crap out of the way in spite of the mind numbing “sit and get” meetings we were in. 

I do LOVE the “family” thing the principals/instructional coaches decided to put together this year- though, I’ll be honest, I was hardcore 🙄 as I was standing there waiting for this meeting to start. But, once things got rolling, I was pleasantly surprised. I’ve only been at this school for 3 years and hardly know anyone out of my department. This is a pretty cool way to get to know some other people. (My school is pretty huge and our location apparently has so much development, teacher turnover is pretty high- so as I learn others names they leave and then I have to learn another name. It’s a challenge on top of 166 kids!)

Also on Friday, we promised my son that we would take him to see real fireworks. We let them stay up on the 4th but only did small fountains in the backyard. We figured 3 was old enough to stay up and see some big ones and there are some so close to us every Friday we figured we’d send summer out with a bang. 

Little did I know- those damn fireworks don’t start until 9:30 😳. Luckily my daughter napped and my son didn’t lose his shit (though I am always fully braced for it to happen any time he stays up past 8 since I’m a stickler for a schedule). 

The fireworks did not disappoint but ridiculously my kids did not end up passing out in the car like I expected so they weren’t in bed until 10:30! TOO LATE. Way way way too late. 

Annnnndddd we are paying for it. They both have some sort of summer cold today with runny noses and obvious congestion. I hate when they are sick:

  1. They’re obviously uncomfortable and my mommy side wants to make them feel better (but sadly, making them feel better often involves torturing them to do so. The nose frida is a blessing and a curse 😑)
  2. Because they are uncomfortable they are whiny. Add on to that sleep deprivation and you have a recipe for- well… for FML. That’s what! 

All that to say, it is currently 6:25 pm and both my kids are asleep in their beds! 🙌🏻

I will not be far behind them, but I also might spoil myself by going to the grocery store ALONE! It’s crazy how your small celebrations change post kid(s).  I’ll be honest again- they kind of ruin everything. 

OBVIOUSLY that is totally not true and I don’t really feel like that. But don’t you moms out there reading this lie and pretend like thoughts like that have never crossed your mind. Be honest. It isn’t all snuggles and rainbows and kisses and greatness. I have a nearly two year old and a three year old. Ask anyone- those are THE HARDEST ages so when it’s bad it’s so so so bad. But also, when it’s good, it’s enough to make you want another one (those of you pre-children consider yourselves warned).

On the surrogacy front- I’m 6 days out from U/S and unofficially 5 weeks and 5 days pregnant. They won’t make any of that official until they are able to measure. 

No real symptoms yet, but that doesn’t surprise me. The only thing that might suggest that I’m pregnant is that I’m slightly more hungry than normal and I’m tired. But the tired could also be a direct result of the strain of not losing my shit on my poor sick kids who were whiny and sleep deprived. Who knows! 

Let’s hope my kids sleep soundly and let’s all say a little prayer of thanks for the genius that created the Time to Wake Clock (Moms- if you don’t know about this- GOOGLE IT! My kids have been trained to stay in their beds until the clock turns green! It’s glorious. If they wake up at 6:45, they play and lounge until 7:10 when it turn green. It’s awesome!)