Pets

There are a lot of things I should be doing right now. Unfortunately, I'm lacking in the motivation department. So I'm going to post some pictures of my pets instead.

The cats, Houdini and Thor. Houdini was our first and is quite dainty. Thor came six months later and as you can see, dainty isn't exactly the best word for him. Phat is generally my preferred word for describing him.

Our dogs, Diego and Fynn. Diego is a very lovey little Chihuahua. Fynn is naughty and has an underbite that makes him look naughty all the time. The picture of him above is from the last time Crys shaved him. We think this will be his permanent look from now on.

Religion

My mom is Presbyterian and my dad is Catholic. My brothers, sister and I were all raised Catholic. We participated in CCD classes (Catholic religion classes for kids who go to public instead of parochial school). We've all been baptised, had our first communion and confirmed as Catholics. I even taught the three year old Sunday School class at my church from 8th through 12th grade. Our family wasn't exactly devout though. We went to church sporadically and usually only for holidays like Christmas and Easter. For awhile, I made a real effort to be a good Catholic. But a few things got in the way.

Perhaps my first real beef with my religion came when I realized that as a Catholic, I was supposed to believe that my mom and most of her family would at best end up in purgatory for not being Catholic. I know very few people who are nicer than my mother and I can't imagine my mother's afterlife being anywhere other than heaven. Not to mention, why would God split up a family over religion? If we're all basically good people, shouldn't we all go to heaven and be together?

My second problem was in high school when I realized how serious confirmation was. I was confirmed at the age of 12 and didn't completely understand the commitment I was making to the church. I just thought it meant we were coming of age in the church but didn't really understand the meaning. Now I feel that I was tricked into confirmation but adults who should have known better. Crys and I have talked about joining a church together. Clearly Catholicism won't work if we want to be recognized as a family. But I am completely incapable of leaving the church. Mostly because I've been confirmed.

And my third major problem is the church's stance on GLBT issues. "Love the sinner, hate the sin". That just doesn't work for me. If I become a devout Catholic, I have to deny my relationship. I certainly won't lie about who I am or how I live my life just to be a member of my church. Is that something God would want? Crys would not be welcome as my partner. Our child would only be welcome as my child. That's not something I'm willing to live with. We are and will be a family, any church we belong to can take all of us or none of us.

This week I attended a Catholic funeral. Before we went, I had a decision to make. A decision I've been struggling with for several years and now seemed like the time to make it. Should I continue to participate in Catholic mass or should I deny that part of who I am? Catholic mass is full of ritual that only Catholics are obligated to adhere to. Communion and kneeling being the two most noticeable elements that set the congregation apart from other religions. In the end, I decided that while I will never be able to fully join another religion, I will never be a practicing catholic again. I will never go to confession because that would mean confessing the sin of living with and loving my partner and therefore, I will never be able to take communion again. From now on, if I find myself at a Catholic mass, I won't genuflect before entering the pew or kneel in prayer like I've done so many times in past.

I joke about being a recovering Catholic and frequently question the existence of God, but some days I long for the faith that comes to many people so easily. I miss the days when I believed that I could be a lesbian and a practicing Catholic. But now I know better and now I am stuck. Unable to participate in my religion and incapable of finding a new one.

Better

Friday morning I managed to reign in my pity party. I decided that if I wasn't absolutely sure I could fire my student worker without crying, I should wait to do it. So I didn't have to deal with that. I told most of the half dozen people or so in my life who knew we might be pregnant that it didn't work out and to my surprise, rather making me feel worse, it made me feel better. The dean of my office (which is technically a college, but for an entire college we're an awful small staff) talked to me about some of the changes being put in place. While I am still convinced in the short term they are putting me right back to where I was three years ago when I started this job, in the long term this should work into a position that will compliment my masters degree quite nicely. If it all goes as planned (and in my experience for better or for worse things rarely ever do) these changes could initiate a permanent career for me.

Crys took me out for the best Long Island ice tea ever and it knocked me on my ass. I was in bed by 8:30 and woke up slightly hung over at midnight. So until I can go back to bed for a few hours I'm playing around on the internet and might do some reading. I'm not sure why, but I've become obsessed with the Twilight Saga and started reading the books over again, even though it's been less than a month since I finished reading them for the first time. Have I mentioned that I'm an obsessive compulsive reader? I can't just read a book casually over the course of a few weeks. I devour books of the course of a day or two.

Cookies and booze are my consolation prize

I am most definitely not pregnant. Crys made chocolate cookies for us after work. Homemade cookies. Tomorrow we're going out for dinner and I'm going to have the best Long Island ice tea known to man and woman. I'll spend the long weekend trying to recover from this too long week. The funeral of the brother of one of my student workers, he was seventeen and just collapsed after running a sprint. The discussion I'll be having with a different student worker tomorrow telling him we can't employ him anymore. The changes at work I found about today. They aren't exactly bad changes. But I've just adjusted to the last round. And here I am again, facing another change. Sometimes it would be nice if I weren't so eager to please, adaptable, flexible. Being rigid and unchanging won't help my cause either. So all I can do is roll with the punches and make the best of what I'm given, which is turning out to be little more than what I started out with three years ago.

Next month will be easier. There won't be any funerals or terminations. I'll know what to expect. Next month we'll try again.

Still waiting

I wish there was something more exciting to report, my last few blogs have been about pregnancy tests and waiting and it doesn't look like that's going to change. We planted our garden last night. I took another pregnancy test. It was negative. My period still hasn't started. That's about exciting as it gets around here folks.

Crys is starting to get a little frustrated by the whole thing and I'm getting there too. At this point I'd be okay if my period started, just so we have an answer one way or the other. But I'd still rather have a positive pregnancy test. While I was waiting for the pregnancy test to register an answer, I read the instructions and it recommends waiting 19 days after insemination if you don't remember when your last cycle started. We're only on day 14. So there's still hope.

Take Two

Pregnancy test #2 was negative as well. But like I told Crys, there's still hope. Until I get my period anyway. We knew my period might be a complicating factor in figuring out when to take the pregnancy test. I cycle between 30 and 40 days. Or at least that's what came out of charting for three months. So I could be wrong about that. If I can take the test four days before my missed period, that could be anytime between now and next week. If I had more patience I'd just wait until either I get my period or next weekend. But I don't so we'll probably be buying more pregnancy tests for Tuesday or Wednesday.

First pee

I couldn't help it. Thursday night I took my first pregnancy test. Of course it was negative, the earliest I should even think about taking a test is Sunday. Monday or Tuesday would be better. But the package we bought had two tests and there was always the hope that my body was just a little bit ahead of modern pregnancy tests and started producing whatever hormone is tested for early. I'm probably not the first woman to break down and take a pregnancy test too early.

We decided to try a another test tomorrow. Crys read the instructions a little more carefully than I did and suggested the next time I try after I wake up because it recommends taking the test the first time you pee for the day. So, if I get up four times during the night, which one is the first? I suppose it means first after four consecutive hours of sleep, we'll see if I can manage that...

My bike

I miss my bike. I miss being able to get to work in 15 minutes every morning. And getting home in 15 minutes every evening. Even more, I miss the exercise that I don't have to go out of my way for. Last week, after we inseminated, I ignored Crys's argument that riding my bike to and from work is a bad idea. But then we told my parents about my possible pregnancy over the weekend. When I asked my mom to back me up on that one, she agreed with Crys!

Well crap. So I'm taking the bus in the morning and Crys is picking me up after work. The bus is okay, but this morning I was a little worried about getting sick on the way to work. I haven't had morning sickness yet, but this morning felt like it was possible more than any other morning so far, even though I've been nauseous pretty much every day this week.

Here's a picture of us with our dogs and our bikes. The Chihuahua is Diego and the Terrier is Fynn. We don't take them out on the bikes anymore. We think it's fun, they don't really care for it. Diego is with Crys and Fynn is with me.

Mother's Day

We've been trying to decide when the best time to tell our families will be. Sunday morning while we were getting ready to go to my parents' house for lunch, Crys decided Mother's day was the right time. Her family lives in western Nebraska and I agreed with her plan to call them and let them know I might be pregnant. I was a little hesitant to tell my parents and let her know I would just wing it once we got there.

After my brother and his girlfriend left, I decided since Crys was telling her family it would be best for me to tell my parents. I told them that we'd changed our minds about having kids and might be pregnant. It actually went pretty well. They asked a few questions about the donor and said congratulations a lot. The next day I got an email from my mom saying something about if I'm going to pull the clutch and shift gears that fast it would be nice to give them a little more notice. While that's true, it's just more fun for me to completely confuse them from time to time.

Crys's family was excited too. This will be the first grandchild for everyone except Crys's mom who has two step grandchildren. That makes the whole thing just a little stressful for me because I feel like a lot is riding on my ability to get pregnant, but I'm starting to feel better about our families knowing. This at least takes away the stress of not knowing how our families will react to the news. All in all, it worked out pretty well this way.

I saw the sign(s)

This weekend I was sleepy, hungry, gasy, moody and spacey. Five of the seven dwarfs of pregnancy symptoms (I'm not sure what the other two are, I'm just making this up as I go). So now the questions is, are they real? I don't know but today I've gotten really hungry a couple of times and then when I ate a snack I felt sick to my stomach. I'm cautiously optimistic.

Uncle Nick

So what happened with Nick? Did I decide to just let sleeping dogs lie? Well, yes. But he brought it up again last weekend. Turns out Nick is really okay with this new turn of events. He realized that now really isn't the best time for him to be fathering a child and is looking forward to spoiling a child without the responsibility of discipline and everything else that goes along with parenthood. He is truly happy about his upcoming role as Uncle Nick. Perfect. We're one big happy family again.

Coffee

About four years ago I gave up soda. I was drinking way too much and decided it was time to stop. Soda was replaced with coffee. Probably a little too much coffee. Eventually I managed to get it down to a couple of cups in the morning before leaving for work. Then I was on water the rest of the day. Drinking my daily dose of caffeine at home helps me keep it to a minimum.

A few years ago I went to the doctor for some trouble with my ears. They constantly feel full and plugged. He recommended going off all stimulants for one month. Including caffeine. It was ridiculously hard. Quitting smoking had been easier, and that wasn't exactly a walk in the park. After a week the mind crushing headache went away but even as the third week past I just wasn't functioning properly. So I started drinking coffee again. Turns out I have Meniere's Disease, which is more like a condition than a disease. After a few months on a diuretic that made me hungry all the time (I thought it would do the opposite) I gave up and just live with the constantly plugged ears. It's only really annoying when the temperature changes drastically. That makes my ears hurt a little. But I can live with that.

When we started talking about having a baby, my goal was to drink as little caffeine as possible. I slowly started weening myself down to half a cup a day and it worked. That's all I really need to get going in the morning. I discussed caffeine with my doctor who said a full cup in the morning won't hurt. So now that I might be pregnant, why do I feel guilty about my little half cup every morning?

Mind tricks

Is it possible to have morning sickness less than 48 hours after conception? I was just feeling light headed and dizzy, like the next thing that would happen was that I'd start feeling sick. Is my mind just playing tricks on me? Its going to be a long two weeks.

And now we wait

I try not to rely too heavily on signs. Mostly because in the past I have and it never seemed to work out. But I just couldn't ignore the signs this time. All of this happened yesterday.

1. I peaked at our checking account online before going to work and our economic stimulus money had been deposited overnight. We weren't supposed to get the money until Friday at the earliest and if you remember correctly, that's what we're using to finance the baby making.
2. Our sperm showed up despite some confusion with MSB. Apparently their online form (which I submitted on Friday) isn't the best method of ordering. Good thing I called to follow up on Monday. Even though they request four days to process orders, she took my order on Monday, shipped it on Tuesday and I received it on Wednesday. Receiving it was not without difficultly though. It was shipped Fedex, to my front door with no signature required. I had planned to leave work at noon if the tracking page on the Fedex Web site hadn't shown it as delivered by then and just stay home for the day. At ten till noon the status of my delivery changed from "on the truck" to "delivered". I left at noon, biked home and there was nothing at my front door. I freaked out and tried to call MSB but the clinic is closed for the rest of the week (that was another problem, I was supposed to call after receiving my tank for further instruction). As I was listening to the end of the very long message at MSB, the Fedex truck pulled up. The sperm had arrived like my period usually does, fashionably late.
3. I was ovulating yesterday. We hadn't expected it until the weekend but wanted to have the sperm early just in case. While I was waiting for Crystal to get home from work I decided it would be a good idea to start using the smiley face ovulation tests so we didn't risk missing our window to inseminate. I was shocked when the test flashed a smiley face at me. When she got home from work, Crystal insisted that I take another test, just in case I read it wrong. She didn't believe that the test was pretty darn hard to misread considering it was digital. But I did it anyway and off we went to make a baby. Turns out we didn't need further instructions from MSB after all.

It just feels a little bit like the universe wanted us to get pregnant last night. But I'm going to try not read too much into any more signs. I fully expect to experience pregnancy symptoms even if I'm not pregnant. That's just part of the danger of wanting something too much. You see the signs everywhere. So until I take the pregnancy test, we'll just have to wait.

Breastfeeding

Last week I ordered Confessions of the other mother for Crys. Initially she was very concerned about her place in the family as the other mother. I was reluctant to buy the book for her, afraid it would only increase her worries. When she was at her height of worry over being the other mother, I thought this whole baby business was just one discussion away from falling apart. She wasn't happy being the non biological parent but she didn't want to carry the baby either. Her ideal situation was to use one of her eggs to get me pregnant. I love Crys, I respect her opinions, but no. Financially, it was never an option.

Since the book arrived, I've been the only one reading it. Crys is now so excited about having a baby that for now anyway, she's not at all worried about what will happen to our family dynamic. But now if she ever does, she'll have a resource ready and waiting her for.

Why is this blog called "breastfeeding" if I'm writing about The Other Mother? Several women wrote about feeling like an outsider because the biological mom is the one who breastfeeds the baby. It makes me thankful for my mastectomy two years ago. There are a lot of reasons I am thankful for the surgery. This has given me another. Rather than dwelling on the fact that I am incapable of feeding my baby without help from a tin can, I can be happy that I don't have to choose between our child and making Crys feel like an outsider. If I still had breasts, it would be an easy choice, the baby. But I don't and there's no use crying over no milk.

Why did a perfectly healthy 26 year old have a mastectomy? Because in 2003 my family went through the process of being tested for BRCA1, also known as the breast cancer gene. I tested positive. My family wasn't surprised that some of us carry the gene. In the early 80s my mom and her twin sister both had breast cancer. My aunt died in 1987. Another aunt died of ovarian cancer in 2001 and my mom is a two time breast cancer survivor. I knew I was going to have a mastectomy before I ever tested positive for the gene. It was after mom's second run with breast cancer, she had a mastectomy (the first go around she just had a lumpectomy) and I took care of her for a few days after she went home from the hospital. One morning we were watching the regular morning shows and it occurred to me that one day, I would probably be in her shoes. The only question was do I wait to be diagnosed with cancer or do I get it over with and just have the surgery. When the genetic counselor told me there was an 85% chance I'd be diagnosed with cancer, the answer was easy.

Not everyone in my family understood why I had the surgery so young. Or why I didn't want reconstruction. No one tried to talk me out of it though. I suppose they all knew better. Crys was fabulous. She kept me busy during the days prior to the surgery when I began fixating on anything that could go wrong. She only left the hospital when I made her go home and to get some sleep. She never once made me feeling guilty about taking my breasts away from her. She completely understood why I didn't want reconstruction. That last one was key. Epically when during my consultation, my surgeon spent more time trying to talk me into reconstruction than doing anything else. Six months later I went to a plastic surgeon to have some of the scar tissue removed and to make the incision look a less like a three year old performed the surgery. It was clear during all my visits he never understood my choice. He also tried to talk me into having reconstruction. What woman doesn't want to have breasts? The woman who has the luxury of taking her breasts off when she's tired of wearing them. That's who.

When I decided to have a mastectomy I didn't want kids and therefore didn't consider how I'd feel if I couldn't breastfeed. But now that I'm here, trying to have a baby and knowing full well that breastfeeding will never ever be something I can do, I'm okay with it. Better be healthy and breastless than breastfeeding with an 85% chance of getting cancer.

Back to normal

Nick decided to come home at a normal time last night and things seem to be back to normal. He didn't bring up the baby business at all or the fact that he avoided us for three days. I may try talk to him about it tonight. But then again, it may be best to just let sleeping dogs lie. We'll see.