Cuteness (in 3 day old puppy form)!!!

Ok, first off the babies. During the night, #10 appeared. We have not confiscated all of them again to try to figure out if that one was male or female, but it exists and that's all that matters. A few are staying quite runty, so I may or may not be bringing a couple puppies home with me after I take Little H back down to his mom's. If so, there will be plenty of pictures, hopefully chronicalling the transformation from pseudo-ugly to actually adorable (please, God, let them become adorable).

Still no clue on who the daddy might be, poor bastard puppies.

PCOSMama asked, and I have yet to deny my readers anything they ask (other than that creepy anonymous one that wanted more nudie pics), so I will slightly expound on the sex I had Sunday night. R was incredibly nervous- it had been 8 months, and he wasn't very "generous" in the "giving me pleasure" department prior to that. He focused so much on trying hard that the mood pretty much died. And I tried so hard to "urge" myself towards involuntary muscle spasms of the ecstasy type that I just stalled right at the edge and nothing would get me over it. We tried a second time about 15 minutes later, but R getting his rocks off without me the first time made him twice as nervous the second and I stalled again. Hopefully we'll have a calm night between now and when we leave for his mom's house for the holidays (because she's forcing us to stay in the master bedroom and he refuses to have sex on her bed) and we can try again. It was quite late Sunday night when we attempted (and we had no idea an attempt would be made, it was rather spur-of-the-moment and there had been no hinting beforehand) and with Monday being our court date we were both extremely stressed. It will get better with practice, right?

Yeah, that's not the vicarious living you were hoping for, is it? I'm gonna end up with cranky comments over my sub-par sex life, I can see it now. I promise to vaguely disguise and share some hotter details once they occur.

Now I'm off to stencil, cut, and glue 120 paper ornaments for Little H's class to decorate on the 14th. I already very much regret volunteering, let's hope the day spent in his classroom is adorable enough to make up for the carpal tunnel I'll get from cutting for days on end.

Not what I expected to do last night...

This weekend was so long. Quick note- court for Little H was yesterday. We didn't get custody, but we did get extended weekends (thursday thru monday) and way more time in the summer, and we get to take him to Louisianna for Christmas (which his mother was so incredibly pissed about, because we offered to give her all of Christmas next year so we could have it this year, and she refused. the judge gave us most of Christmas this year- including both Christmas eve and Christmas day- and not letting her have any extra time to make it up). Bitch should have worked with us in the first place.

Oh, and I had sex with R on Sunday night. For the first time in 8 months. For the first time since before the separation.

Now, all about last night. After court, we went back to my parents' house to pack up the car and get the dogs. Trunk packed. Last minute things found and crowding the front seat. Tiffany super excited. Leashes located. Tiffany in the back seat. R on his way to get Argos from the back yard. My dad's dog has something in her mouth. It's a newborn puppy. Hear screaming. There's another newborn puppy buried in the dirt. And a third abandoned in the dog house.

(disclaimer- that dog showed up as a stray, she did not get pg at my parents' house as the only male around there is a chihuahua and these puppies are huge, way bigger than I would have expected out of a beagle-sized dog, they did not know she was pg as she was VERY fat when she showed up and has actually slimmed down slightly towards a healthy size, she was beyond obese before, it was sick)

In comes the dog (the pup in her mouth was not alive, we have no idea when she had those three), we warmed up the two living pups, search more in her pen out back to see if there were more, sent R to the store for any type of formula he can find. She had 7 more inside. She'd mostly take care of one, but once she had a second pup with her, she got overwhelmed and didn't do anything. At one point, she had two she was taking care of and gave birth to a third, which she completely ignored. We had to take away them away, I had to actually remove that ignored pup from the sac, she hadn't done anything at all. It was a frantic few hours, with the first two nearly dead from cold, one still in a sac that I had to cut out and convince to breathe (I nearly had to breathe for him at first), feeding 9 newborns with the only formula and bottles we could get without a 90 minute round trip, starting the feeding schedule all over again by the time we had finished with the 9th pup, tying strings on everybody to help identify them, making lists of who was who and when they ate, taking them all into the bathroom to wipe them with a wet washcloth to get them to potty. Oh, and taking care of my own two dogs somehow in the mix.

Once the mama stopped laboring, we gave her some time to relax, then put the pups in with her to see if she would take care of them. Thankfully, she allowed them to nurse and she started licking them and it looked like she was going to do her thing. She is still nursing and taking care of them this morning. She has to be hidden inside her crate at all times, because any time she sees a cat or person moving around she freaks out. We are so glad she's doing good, because I really didn't want to take on 3-4 pups (my mom would have kept the rest, she has help down there and I'd be doing it alone up here). It takes 20 minutes to care for each pup, so I'd be working with them for an hour and really only get an hour or so break before I had to start it all up again. R very much values my sleep, he knows how vital it is for my happiness, so he's very glad we didn't end up with pups. We may end up having to take in one or two (because mama doesn't have enough nipples to feed everybody at once), but not having to raise an entire litter is such a relief.

Anybody want a puppy in 8 - 12 weeks? Mama is a beagle/german shepherd?/something else hairy mix. Not sure what daddy is, probably something kinda big, most of the pups look slightly rottweiler-ish. Eventually they will be cute, I swear. And until then, they smell like puppies, which is awesome.

My 101 Things

In catching up on Beth's blog, I stumbled on her 101 things. And decided that I should try one too. I'm not sure how excited I am, because this will prove to all of you just how "off" I can be sometimes. What the hell, that didn't stop me from posting nude pictures, so it's not stopping me now.

1. I need to have an ending point, I need to see the end of the tunnel. Case in point- I typed in every number before starting, even though it caused me to forget several of the things I had already thought of.


2. I need to know that my effort is appreciated. This means I can do very little just for myself. While R has been gone, I rarely clean the house or do dishes, because I cannot appreciate my own hard work. I will scrub every nook and cranny right before he comes home, but until then I can't force myself to be proactive. I can't even enjoy cooking for myself, food just doesn't have that relaxing and indulgent flavor if I'm not making it for somebody else too.

3. As much as I really want to know what is going on in our budget, I need R to be in charge of it. I try to give my ideas on what money to save and our "play money," but I have some sort of fear of having to take care of it myself.

4. This drives R crazy, because I'm constantly asking to be involved but freaking out and running away when he does try to involve me in the monthly budget planning.

5. R also hates my eating habits when he's gone. Since I can't enjoy eating food I've spent time preparing, I eat nothing but TV dinners, bagel pizzas, and lun.chables. And cereal.

6. I don't usually eat those things when R is here, I save the "comfort food" factor of those things for when he's gone. I worry that if I indulge in bagel pizzas when he's around, they won't taste as good when he's gone and therefore I wouldn't eat much at all.


7. If I could eat nothing but Taco Bell while R is gone, I would. There is something about their chips that is just heavenly when dipped into that hot little plastic cup of cheese goo.


8. I nearly drove back to Taco Bell on Monday, because they only gave me 2 sauce packets total for my 2 tacos. I always use 2 mild packets per taco. From now on I will go inside to order so I can grab my own sauce packets and not deal with the stingy drive-thru lady. If I hadn't had extra sauce packets in my fridge (for just such an emergency), I wouldn't have been able to eat, seriously.


9. Which means my sauce packet emergency stash is now drained (because we always do drive-thru and they always stiff me on extra sauce packets) and I'm slightly panicked about the next time I have Taco Bell.


10. My brain latches on to weird things to obsessively worry about. Like wondering how hard it would be to replace a few ceiling tiles, if we'd have to take out the whole row, just the few surrounding tiles, everything to the wall... if the candelabra were to fall. A candelabra that is NOT currently put up, and I have no idea if we'll ever put up at all, considering the house is a little small for something of that size hanging from the ceiling, plus we never use candles, and it doesn't really match the decor. But I've been worrying for days about how to fix the ceiling if it falls.


11. I'm now considering drywalling the ceiling so that tiles are not an issue should we ever decide to put up the candelabra.


12. I really want new furniture, to go with the great rug we bought a few months ago.


13. But the rug has me so content that I don't actually care about furniture right now.


14. My dogs eat holistic, grain-free food. I was adament about cutting out fillers and poor-quality ingredients in their food.


15. But their treats are full of the crap I made sure their food doesn't have.


16. I don't care if that makes me a hypocrite, they rarely get treats anyway, so I don't see it as affecting them much. Plus, that food is expensive, which I don't mind, but grain-free treats cost as much per month as their food, and that's crazy.


17. I love both of my dogs, but pet one more than the other. The one I pet less is because he is always licking and rubbing his nose all over me, and I hate being slimed. I give the extra pettings when he is not around, because I don't want him to get jealous.


18. I feel so guilty about that, so I give him one more treat than the other dog every day. They don't notice the difference (because I give him an extra bedtime treat, and they are separated at night), but it eases my guilt to know that I'm somehow spoiling him in a way I don't spoil her.


19. I'm pretty sure that makes me crazy.


20. And I don't care, because my dogs are happy and loved.


21. Here begins writing session 2 of this little experiment in knowing myself. Session 1 went well, but I'm starting to feel a little lost and wondering how much there really is to know about me.


22. R tells me I'm perfect on a daily basis.


23. It means more to me coming from my friend K.


24. Only because K startled me the first time he said it. I had mentioned to K a conversation I'd had with my ex-husband prior to the divorce, telling him that every once in a while I just wanted him to tell me that I'm perfect. And said ex replied with "you're perfect, FOR ME." Yep, that divorce was worth it. But K remembered, and one day I was really down and upset and he told me I was perfect. I didn't think he had paid attention to that conversation, and I never expected him to remember. But he did, so I will always smile so big I almost cry when K tells me I'm perfect.


25. I feel like R jumped on the "perfect" bandwagon because he was jealous that K could affect me so much with just 2 words. I'd told him the ex story long before I told K, and K was the one that remembered and made a point to say it when I needed it most. R says it constantly, and that takes away a lot of the meaning for me.


26. I met K when I worked at cub scout camp (he worked on the boy scout side of camp). I was the "health officer." A glorified name for "girl who dispenses medications and sometimes washes a boo boo."


27. K was infatuated with me, but I thought very little of it, since I was one of 3 female staff members at the entire camp. We eventually did "date" long distance after camp, but we didn't "click" as a romantic couple and just stayed friends.


28. That was over 5 years ago, and I have considered him one of my very best friends since that summer.


29. Considering R and I have been together 7 1/2 years, that whole 5 years ago date can be confusing. R and I were very on-again-off-again. We were together for the first time 7 1/2 years ago, but it was about 50/50 on and off until 4 1/2 years ago when he proposed.


30. Those off-again times resulted in my first marriage and Little H's conception.


31. I got married the first time for none of the right reasons. I didn't want to be alone, an ex-boyfriend turned friend stood up to his family for me, diamonds are pretty, R was being an idiot and had completely cut off communication with me for no reason 2 months prior to me getting engaged. The guy promised to take care of me forever.


32. 3 months later he was calling me, drunk, from the strip club every night, telling me what his favorite girl was wearing and which girl he was going to have dinner with or take to the movies.


33. The ex and I were married for 6 months before we knew it was legal.


34. The county clerk had no marriage record for us, kept claiming it was lost in the mail or never sent by the official. Turns out it was there the whole time, "somebody" had convinced them to file it under the wrong date (because it was still in alphabetical order) and not enter it into the computers.


35. That "somebody" was ex's grandfather, who had way more weight in that town than somebody of his morals ever should.


36. Our marriage record appeared instantly when grandpa called to get it so ex could get a bigger paycheck from the military, but for another 2 months after that when I needed it the thing was still "lost."


37. I'm weird, so I actually considered deleting this number and making a stupid joke at the end about nobody noticing. Then I realized that it would be very m.yspace to do such a thing, and I'm way more mature than that. But I am curious as to why this number stuck out in my head as being the one I should delete.


38. My favorite number is actually 15, so 37 holds no significance that I know of.


39. I am OCD about my keys. I check my purse twice before I get out of the car, twice more after I get out but before I shut the door, and at least once more as I walk away from the car- making sure I did put my car keys in their pocket in my purse. I also take my house keys with me when I walk to the end of my tiny driveway to check the mail.


40. The house keys are somewhat justified, though. Last winter we had adopted a german shepherd from the shelter, and while R and I unloaded some things from the truck into the garage we had the dogs in the laundry room (this is before the male we have now, but we had our lab mix). When we went to enter the house after we finished, the deadbolt was locked. Turns our the german shepherd really wanted to come outside with us and pawed at the door until it locked. My keys were in my purse, in the house, and that was the exact moment we realized R had locked his keys in the truck.


41. The truck window was open just enough to reach in and unlock it, so we weren't locked outside all night and no locksmith was necessary. But I will never be on the outside of anything without my keys again.


42. Our house only has 2 bedrooms, one for us and one for Little H. I think I let R buy this house for that reason, because I had lost all hope of having a baby and couldn't handle the idea of a third bedroom that would never become a nursery.


43. Turns out our insurance does cover the RE. We were told multiple times last year that it didn't, so we cancelled our appt and I went on BCP to control the endo. I just got the benefits book, and the RE is covered, including any diagnostics. And there is no mention of medications not being covered, so I think we actually have coverage for those, too, just a crazy-high copay because there is no way IF meds are part of their formulary.


44. I'm excited by that and scared at the same time, because of the whole "haven't had sex with my husband in 8 months" thing I blogged about not long ago. I want to get started right away, but I don't want R to feel like he's just a sperm bank, and I want to be in a place inside myself where I can "be" with R completely, before I'm knocked up and morning sickness takes away any chance of nookie.


45. R is even more excited than I am, he's making plans for how to take care of me after lap (because I can feel that the endo is raging again, so I need/want one before we start TTC again), wondering what drugs he can give me before the HSG so I'm not in as much pain this time, wants the list of baby names we came up with way back when we were naive and hopeful, keeping track of the foods I sometimes crave now, especially the odd ones (like Pi.zza Hut cheesy breadsticks, made on an unwashed cinnamon breadsticks pan, so they have cinnamon sugar on the bottom and cheese on the top- had it once on accident, and now I need it sometimes).


46. But we actually don't have to have sex to get pg, in fact, sex won't get us pg. So we could start seeing the RE and doing IUI, and never have sex again. Not that we would, but it's strange to know that I could NEVER have sex again, and still get pg.


47. I'm not telling R about that. Besides the fact that he would be crushed, he would also agree with me and drag me to the RE right away to get started.


48. He's got the baby bug more than me, like 2ww with strange symptoms, he just knows it's going to happen, baby bug.


49. I don't know if I'm amazed by his continuing naivete or irritated by his lack of reality.


50. I chose to write from the computer desk today, rather than my comfy lap desk at the couch, because the dogs are comfy on the couch.


51. If a bigger couch would fit in my house, I would buy one so that they could stretch out on in and still leave me a little bit of room to sit.


52. Except they would just stretch out even more, so I'd still have to sit elsewhere. And I wouldn't mind at all.


53. They drive me so crazy when I'm trying to use the computer. I think they are jealous of the laptop, because it's the only time I won't give them at least a little attention before telling them to go play on their own.


54. Writing day 3, which is over a week since the last time I was writing here...

55. My thoughts tend to ramble inside my head, so much that even I can't always figure out how I got from one thought to the next.

56. Back to the K thing- when I worked at camp, my "camp name" (for fun, and I think a little to protect everybody's privacy) was Lucky Bug.


57. K gave me that name, because on the night I was trying to come up with a name a bug fell down my shirt. I'm sure you can all guess the rest of the story.


58. My great-grandmother was a mail-order bride of some sort.


59. But not the Russian stereotype, she was from the Netherlands or something (I don't have all the details, but if anybody can guess her country-of-origin I will write an entire blog about how awesome you are. The last name is Nutting, if that helps).


60. R and I are getting each other new cell phones for Christmas this year (he's doing the ordering, but we each picked out the one we want), mostly because they're practically free when we renew our contract, and partially because we both just want new cute phones.


61. Mine was so much harder to decide to get, because I only had 1 option. I HATE flip phones, don't want any type of bla.ckberry-ish thing, and the only slider phone option has an MP3 player, which I would never use (I have 3 CDs on rotation in my car, but I only switch between them once every 2-4 months), so I was left with a single choice. Which is ok, because it's just a standard bar phone, it calls people and it has text messaging. That's all I want or need. Yeah, a camera would be convenient, but camera phones take shitty pictures and I have an awesome digital camera if I really want pictures of anything.


62. You would think that only 1 option would make it easy, but it didn't, because then the choice wasn't "which phone do I want?" but rather "do I really want a new phone if the only option isn't exactly what I had wanted?"


63. I really wanted a slider phone.


64. Almost entirely because I'm pretty sure it would look completely bitchy to hang up on somebody with one, and I think that would be fun.


65. The image of hanging up on somebody is probably the worst reason EVER to choose a specific phone, but I'm ok with that.


66. Thursday is my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary.


67. They had a double wedding, my grandma's sister married my grandpa's brother in the same ceremony.


68. The cousins from those two couples are SO similar- looks, voice, mannerisms, etc. They're basically all brothers and sisters genetically.


69. Sadly, that also extends to the prevalence of diabetes in that generation.


70. R suggested hanging that chandelier. I immediately projected my state of near-panic about the possibility of it falling, so it's now sitting in the bedroom with no ideas what to do with it.


71. R and I have decided to have Thanksgiving Dinner alone this year. Maybe not alone, because we are going to invite our friend and her baby (my godson) since her fiance is gone and her family sucks. But she may not feel like driving 2 hours, which actually wouldn't bother me at all.


72. I don't think I'm even making a turkey, probably just baking chicken breast.


73. The "fixin's" are the important part anyway, who cares what kind of bird it is as long as there is stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy and corn and rolls and pie (additional "fixin's" suggestions welcome. please note that we don't like cranberries, or onions, or green bean casserole). I plan on doing it up right (with the exception of the bird) and really enjoying ourselves.


74. I am sad that we won't be with my family, but Argos is stuck outside when we go downstate and I am tired of him being ignored and tied up. My dad was an ass about things over the weekend, which gave me even more reason to boycott family dinner.


75. My family used to be so close, we did everything together. Now two of my cousins live too far away to come home (one is in Wyoming and was just home over the summer, the other is in Australia), one cousin just doesn't come around at all anymore, another cousin should be in jail for all the shit he's pulled recently (including driving bad on his dad's motorcycle, even though he doesn't have a licence to drive even a car, stealing money from every family member he's been allowed around in the past year, etc), that one's dad has a new girlfriend with a 5 year old son and she's one of the worst parents I've encountered in a long time (the kid swears constantly, screams at all times, hits, kicks, bites, violently abuses the chihuahua his dumbass mother got for him). Honestly, if my family just consisted of my mom, my grandparents, my aunt, and the two cousins that are too far away (and my brothers, they're alright), I'd be happy. The rest really aren't worth my time.


76. I'm really mourning the long-lost perfect family holiday. We'd eat off the good china and the special silverware, everybody smiled and laughed, everything tasted perfect, the house smelled like love. Honestly, we were a fucking greeting card! Aunt J's waldorf salad, cousin SJ and her determination to make mac & cheese from scratch (she always loved it, but it was NOT my favorite), grandma's pies, loaded with whipped cream.


77. I know Thanksgiving this year wouldn't be that, so I'm glad that I can use Argos as an additional excuse to not go. I really don't want to be disappointed by my family.


78. I kick ass at Har.ry Po.tter for Ga.meboy. I had to learn how to play it so I could help Little H if he needed it. I totally beat the game in less than a week.


79. I suck at just about every other video game ever invented. I can't even get through 3 screens in Zeld.a before dying. There are not enough fairies in that game!


80. Except for Drag.on Que.st. That is the awesomest game ever. I have one with an emulator on my laptop (I believe it's DQ5), but I want them all. I can play for 6 hours without any sort of break and be perfectly happy.


81. I never played that game on our N.inte.ndo as a child, never really cared to. But now I love it so much.


82. R does the same thing, except with games that people have actually heard of, and that are new and use real technology.


83. Technology pisses me off, give me Ore.gon Trail anyday.


84. I think maybe I feel that way because I suck. There are entirely too many buttons on the new game controllers.


85. I recently found out that I did a lot more damage than originally thought when I strained my neck as a child (every muscle on the right side was pulled, my left ear actually touched my chest). As a result, I have very little head-tilting range of motion, and my head is permanently cocked just a little bit.


86. When my head is positioned properly, everything looks different, because for 18 years I've adjusted to it being "off."


87. I have a degree as a paramedic.


88. I decided not to complete my internship or do the national testing for licensure when I nearly had a mental breakdown in the back of the ambulance one day.


89. I haven't looked back.


90. Although sometimes I get jealous when I see an ambulance go by with lights and siren. I miss the adrenaline rush, and the feeling of helping people.


91. I was also a firefighter for a year and a half.


92. I didn't do much fire fighting because it was a small rural department, and then I injured my back during training class and had to step away from most of it.


93. My poor spine is straight in places that should curve and curved in places that should be straight. For being an extremely cautious, tiny, 25 year old girl, my back is fucked. I am so gonna be the grandma with the hump, there's really no hope for me.


94. On the topic of my family, my grandpa's side of the family has a very persistent trait of "the hidden baby toe." Nearly 1/2 of my baby toe is underneath its neighbor, my grandpa's is so bad you can barely tell he has one at all. Crazy genetics, even my nephews have slightly hidden baby toes.


95. That damn toe is what makes me saddest about Little H not being mine biologically. I cut his toenails every weekend he comes over, and I get slightly sad when I cut the baby toenail because I don't have to search for it under the next toe.


96. I also hate that his mother never cuts them, which is why at 2 years old his toenails wrapped all the way around the ends of his toes and ended underneath.


97. It took me 6 months of fighting and kicking and screaming and cutting his toenails to get them back to near where they belonged.


98. The way we got him to sit still while I did it: "if you sit still, for every toe that hurts you can punch Daddy one time."


99. So it taught him to hit, at least his toenails end on the top if his foot and not the bottom now. And he only ever hit when cutting his nails, he knew better than to try that crap any other time.


100. His mother still doesn't cut his nails, although she will sometimes do the tiniest of trimmings and claim she did (as in his nails were still in desperate need of being cut, but at least he didn't look like he was wearing fake nails anymore because of the length).


101. Being with R still makes me happier than anything else in the world, I breathe deeper and feel more comfortable with him around than I ever have before. I can't imagine my life without that. Oh, and I never did remember those things I had forgotten while typing in the numbers before starting.

I'm not lonely

Not that I'm embarassed about the dirty dream, I just figured I should put something else up so that I'm not "that weird girl who's always talking about taboo shit." You know, like the 2 weeks I was obsessed by my nude photo shoot (ok, it was more than 2 weeks, I admit it).

I'm not lonely, I swear. I'm bored out of my freaking skull, but not lonely. I love having my house to myself (as long as the sun is somewhere above the horizon). But oh so bored. And bored leads to rambling thoughts, which leads to "I should blog about that" even if it's not very interesting. Sorry you all have to put up with me during my boredom.

It also means checking out sta.tcounter much more regularly. Apparently I was popular in Dubai one day (likely just one person, but they clicked all over the place reading my babble). Most often people come to my blog from Mel's blog, quite a few from Amy's blog too. And then I saw it, somebody came from Beth's blog. Holy crap, I'm linked to from Beth's blog too. More than 2 people like me enough to provide links in their blogs. I'm astonished, because really I do ramble and make little sense most of the time, and I do not stick to the whole IF theme of my blog, ever. And then I realized, I don't really know Beth, I haven't been following her story. Hell, I hadn't read her blog at all before this week. I have got a lot of catching up to do. I promise, Beth, I'm reading a lot, I will do right by you. I will be worthy of your link.

Mel, Amy, not meaning to say that your readership and links don't mean the world to me as well, because they do. I read you every day. I'm just sucking up to Beth a little because I suddenly feel extra-special that somebody I haven't commented on or exchanged emails with actually linked to me. I'm in love with the way that feels.

And it makes more work for me, because it reminds me that I haven't edited/added to my blog links since I started this thing. And I read way more blogs than I have linked to. Time to step up, I'm making myself look bad. Oooh, hey, anybody out there that has links to me, tell me, I want to know. It'll make me giddy for a month, and I'll add you too and read you every day. That makes me sound so sad, begging for people to acknowledge me, but I'm ok with that.

Seriously, Beth, that made my month.

I had a naughty dream!!!!

Not that any of you really want these details, I'm just so excited. As you know, I moved out back in May. Things were bad with R. The summer went by, things were slowly getting better. Then all of the issues with Little H, so I moved back a little earlier than I had really planned. We've been continuing to work on our issues, and we've come so far. Except where intimacy is concerned. It's been since March. I just can't get past the trust issues (as in trusting that he will provide adequate attention to me, not just enjoy himself and fall asleep), and that is really hindering getting any further in our reconnection. I want to love him in every way, and emotionally I am feeling the pull towards him more and more every day, but something is holding me back physically.

Last night, my subconcious started getting a little impatient. It decided to let me know that at least some parts of me are quite ready. Holy crap! In 8 months, absolutely nothing has hinted to me that I want to be intimate with R, not much hinting in the 6 months before that either. I think I might want to have sex with my husband. This is a very new thought to me (and a very important one, considering this is supposed to be my TTC with IF blog). I'm not saying that I'm not physically attracted to R, and his arms around me make me feel better than anything in the world. When he holds me, or kisses my cheek, or absentmindedly rubs my feet, I never want to be with anybody else. But this whole wanting to have sex with him thing is actually quite new. I think I like it. Not that I'm really ready to act on it yet, but there seems to finally be a light at the end of the tunnel. If only I could tell R without him getting frantically excited and talking about nothing else until I punch him in the face. At least I know, that's better than nothing.

How this came to be (my story)

I've always dreamed about being a stay-at-home-mom: baking cookies, teaching my children how to color inside the lines, giggling all day, and sighing in relaxation when they are finally tucked into bed. R didn't really have a "parenthood" dream, but when he heard mine he promised to make it come true. He started trying to fulfill that promise the day we got married. We knew my endometriosis might cause a problem, but everybody I personally knew with endometriosis had children without treatments and we thought we'd be just as lucky.

One year later, on our anniversary, we got our very first positive pregnancy test. We cried, I slept sitting up because I was so nauseous all night long. A week later I was already a DD (up from a decent C), but that night I didn't need to prop myself up. A few days after that, the doctor confirmed that I was no longer pregnant. One whole year of trying, charting my temperature, peeing on any kind of testing device I could find (only the last 3 months, I stayed POAS-free for the first 9 months), and my baby was dead before I had a chance to experience even the first awkward OB appointment. Another 18 months of trying, laparoscopy to remove endometrial adhesions and cysts (and also move one ovary back into position, as it had been yanked back and down due to the adhesions), screaming with pain as dye was injected to see if my fallopian tubes were open, never buying another pregnancy test because I knew I was barren. We finally decided to give up, I got a prescription for birth control to help "control" the endometriosis until we were ready to try again. I was waiting for my period so I could start taking the pills, it came late. I was in an excited daze as I rushed to the store to buy a pregnancy test. Positive, barely. The next day my period came, but the test was still positive, barely. I begged my new doctor for a blood test, I went in later that day, and it was too low. This baby didn't even truly exist before it was gone.

Today we should be preparing for my firstborn's second birthday (a bit early, but I like to be well prepared), the new baby just a couple months old. Most of the family would be meeting the new baby for the first time at Thanksgiving Dinner. I would be washing baby socks, cursing how fast a toddler's feet grow as I pack a diaper bag to go to the store for yet another pair of shoes, and humming lullabies as I nurse my infant to sleep, big brother/sister sharing our rocking chair and humming along, R watching from across the room and smiling. Instead we are doing nothing. We aren't even seeing a specialist to help us make our dreams a reality. We can't. Our insurance won't cover medications or procedures, they have denied our request for even a consultation with the reproductive endocrinologist. It is pretty much set in stone that we will never be able to get pregnant the "old fashioned" way, and now we are also being denied treatment that would get around the medical condition I have been diagnosed with.

If my legs didn't work, they'd give me a wheelchair and physical therapy and a special car with speed control on the steering wheel. If I couldn't see, I'd get some sunglasses, a cool dog, books on tape, brail writing on bathroom doors. If I had cancer, people would wear ribbons to support me, women would grow their hair extra long so they could donate it for wigs, my struggle would have everybody standing by me and trying to help. But I can't have a baby. Women don't have egg donation parties, people don't see my empty womb and offer to read the menu for me if it doesn't come in a "fertility impaired" version, movies don't have a "child free for the emotionally devastated" option. But I don't care if society does anything to make my life easier, all I want is insurance coverage. Let me have the same pregnancy abilities as everybody else.

A couple days late

It has been slightly over a week. But still very close, so I'm going to pretend I didn't fail at my goal. You should all pretend with me.

My brother CML is visiting, for another hour and a half before we leave to go back downstate. He came up with me on Tuesday to keep me company while R is gone. That and his girlfriend is an insensitive whore. Long story, but I'll try to break it down.
Backstory: Tattooist is R's uncle, we're all part of a group of friends with several little breakaway groups, CML and Tattooist are very close, nearly as close as Tattooist and I, CML and DW (dirty whore) have been together for a couple years, the last 15 months she has been living in our parents' house with him.

OK, now for the current story: DW suddenly decides she's not entirely in love with CML, and tells him that. But she stays for a couple months, "hoping the feelings come back." At the same time, she is starting to develop a crush on Tattooist (who happens to be 18 years older than her, she's barely 20, going on 14). She tells Tattooist, he constantly tries to get her to go away without telling her off (because of the group of friends thing), she goes as far as trying to get Tattooist to let her sleep on his couch on the nights she works late (because my parents live 35 minutes from her work). Tattooist wants nothing to do with her, but she's developed Delusional and Horny Stalker Syndrome (DHSS for short). DHSS causes her to tell people that they've kissed (before she officially broke up with CML even).

When that doesn't work to get Tattooist to fall in love with her, she tells a coworker that she's had sex with both Tattooist and another coworker. The coworker she is part of the group of friends, in fact, Tattooist was best man in her wedding 3 months ago. Coworker tells her hubby, the hubby tells CML's best friend from high school, the friend tells CML. That friend also tells his girlfriend, who used to work at the tattoo studio, the girlfriend immediately calls Tattooist.

At the same time, she's text messaging R constantly. He has never spoken to her on the phone and does not respond to any of her text messages. But, that didn't stop her from sending 10 in one day, all about how she's in love with Tattooist. "I like Tattooist more than anybody" "It hurts so much that I can't be with Tattooist" You get the idea. Very middle school, but that's her maturity level. She also claimed to have had sex with "somebody else" and that she thought of Tattooist the entire time. R forwarded the text messages to me. I was 3 blocks from Tattooist's house, so I went over there and showed him, then showed CML when I got back to my parents' that night. CML called DW, lots of yelling, called her the "c" word. She was clueless as to how he would have heard any of that info (um, hello, best friend's best friend, oh and brother-in-law, did you expect them to hold your confidence over somebody they have known way longer and doesn't drive them crazy?). He told her about the text messages, but not the stuff she told her coworker. She called R when she got off the phone with CML. "I thought the conversations we had were confidential?" "What conversations?" "Rememver when CML and I visited you and we talked about 'stuff' that might happen between us?" "You're fucking crazy, we never had any conversations about that psycho shit, and CML was always there, we never had a single conversation alone, even about boring shit!"

OMG, I have never held such contempt for anybody in my entire life (ok, maybe Little H's biological mother, but we communicate through lawyers now, so she's not nearly as big of a pain in my ass). Not only did DW screw around on my brother, she also tried to scam my beloved Uncle Tattooist into falling madly in love with her, then she claimed he did even though he did everything possible to get rid of her, and then she tried to claim a tryst with MY HUSBAND! That bitch has issues! And she's staying with the mother of my godson while she tries to find some new boyfriend to shack up with. Which means I have to see her at my dear godson's 1st birthday party this weekend. If she speaks to me, I'm going to stab her with my plastic fork.