Glass houses and stones

I ran across the following quote today and it got me thinking:

"When it comes down to it, I let them think what they want. If they care enough to bother with what I do, then I'm already better than them." Marilyn Monroe

I admit it, I'm guilty of it.  In fact, I know no one who has not, at one time or another, delighted in the latest juicy piece of gossip.  But in my case, and I would assume most others, I hear it and forget about it completely within seconds.  I really don't have the time, or inclination, to worry with other people's lives.  I have enough to worry about in mine!


It seems harmless.  And, for the most part, I think most gossip is.  On the other hand, there is that rare person who absolutely delights in the misfortunes of others. The one who is so unhappy that the only way he/she feels better is to try and tear others down.  I have had the great misfortune of knowing a few of these people in my lifetime.  Lately, I have been personally targeted by two in particular.  And the obsessiveness of their attempts at destroying me is mind-boggling. 


At first, this coordinated effort to destroy me really bothered me.  I remember feeling so sorry for myself.  The sadness eventually turned to anger.  I'm happy to say that a year and a half later I am over it.  I really could care-less about their poorly executed plan of destruction.  Luckily for me, their repetitive abusive behavior has completely ruined any credibility they once had with their peers (which wasn't much).  There is an old saying about throwing stones and glass houses.  The thing about living in a glass house is that not only is it suceptible to breaking, but it is also completely transparent.  These two hypocritical fools have become a joke to everyone who knows them.


The bottom line is that no one knows what has happened in my life except me.  I know the decisions I have made and the basis for those decisions.  There is one other person that knows some of my story, but he is not either one of these two offenders.  I have made mistakes, and I am certain I will continue to make mistakes in this lifetime.  I have paid for them.  More importantly, however, I have learned from them.  But I have also made really good decisions, ones that have greatly improved my quality of life.  Ones that I'm proud I had the courage to make.  Either way, though, it is time to move on.  I've moved on.  He's moved on.  So, why can't they? 

I suppose they have nothing better to do than harass and stalk me.  I assume that they with each failed attempt at hurting me their obsession and anger just grows and grows.  Ultimately though, I think that they haven't moved on because they have nothing to move on to.  They are miserable, delusional, hypocrites.

Well, they can just continue to make fools of themselves.  And I will continue looking forward to a life full of happiness and hopefully a large and loving family of my own.  I can't think of a better stone than that.

Progesterone X2

So I started my second round...

And... it's not as bad this time (yet)!  I'm hoping this is a really good sign that I'm on my third day and no bleeding yet.  Last time I don't think the dang pill even dissolved before that happened!  I am cramping and had a massive headache at the end of today.  But I'm a tough girl and can handle that!  I just dread the bleeding.

Tom and I are attempting to plan our wedding.  It is going to be a small ceremony with family/almost family only.  And, Lord knows, I will not be wearing white!  I told my mom today I'm not wearing white or ivory and I'm not sending formal invitations (as opposed to cute informal ones).  It's just tacky for a second wedding (sorry if you did it, just personal opinion).  But we are thinking seriously about New Year's Eve this year.  We have found a bed and breakfast in Bardstown that will rent the entire house to us for New Year's!  I really can't think of a better way to ring in the new year!  And I really can't wait to be this man's wife!

Sweet Life

Tom continues to surprise me.  He is a police officer/former Army man who loves anything outdoors, guns, and his country.  Knowing this, one would probably assume he is a beer and pizza kind of guy.  When in actuality, he appreciates fine red wine and exotic cuisine (not that he doesn't love him some pizza too :)).  If he had his way, we would eat only organic and shop only at the Fresh Market.  He loves love stories and I swear tears up at happy endings.

  Another surprising detail to his personality is his choice in music.  I would have guessed upon meeting him that he was a classic rock/hard rock kind of guy.  Nope.  Play a cheesy 70's love song and watch him light up.  I poke fun at his music all the time, although the truth is that I think it is adorable.  Today, he gave me the sweetest compliment.  He told me that he listens to "Sweet Life" by Paul Davis on youtube and thinks of our life together.  He said he can't wait to play it for our children.  If you aren't familiar with the song, you can listen by going here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZR1YPRim_Y

For the rest of you, I have pasted the lyrics below.  After reading, tell me, How could I not fall completely in love with this man?

She's got your eyes, she's got my nose
And I get high just watching her grow
We always dreamed we'd live in a castle
Oh, but we're in the same old shack
Sometimes we get into a hassle
But we always take each other back
This old world seems to be in a hurry
But darlin' we'll just keep on takin' our time

'Cause we're livin' such a sweet life
Oh what a neat life
Sharin' my love with you
We're livin' such a sweet life
Oh what a neat life
Makin' our dreams come true
We're makin' our dreams come true

You are my love, you are my life
And I get high just holding you tight
We always dreamed we'd make a lot of money
I don't mind being poor
'Cause when you make love to me, honey
I couldn't ask for any more
All our friends seem to be in a hurry
But darlin' we'll just keep on takin' our time

'Cause we're livin' such a sweet life
Oh what a neat life
Sharin' my love with you
We're livin' such a sweet life
Oh what a neat life
Makin' our dreams come true
We're makin' our dreams come true

Crossing Over with Walletta

Hey all!  I apologize for being MIA lately but we have been super busy.  Tom's father & stepmother were in town and staying with us.  My sister and Ben are also here staying down the street with mom & Dave.  Laura is here for another week (yay) but Ben left us on Sunday (boo).  It has been SO wonderful spending time with our nearest and dearest.

We had an impromptu "family day" on Saturday and headed for Bardstown, Kentucky.  Our first stop was a super-cozy winery/bed and breakfast where we partook in some tasting.  The wine was tasty, but I must say the best part was the company.  Afterwards we made a pit stop at Keanes Depot, a store that specializes in peddling firearms, cold beer, and country ham.  Tom considers it heaven on earth.  To our delight, we also stumbled upon a street arts-and-crafts festival in the middle of downtown.  We meandered around the beautiful little town shopping the booths while we awaited the main event...A SPIRITUAL TOUR OF WICKLAND WITH A MEDIUM!!! 

Wickland is a beautiful old home not far from "My Old Kentucky Home." (and pictured by my blackberry above).  It was built in the early 1830's, and once encompassed hundreds of acres of the rolling hills of Bardstown.  The architecture is amazing, but the story behind this great home is even more impressive.  It is known as the home of "Three Governors."  One of its previous owners had the distinction of being the wife, sister, and mother of a Governor. 

About 10 years ago, I stumbled upon this beautiful home on another trip to Bardstown.  Thinking it was abandoned, I was poking around outside when the front door creaked open.  A short, gray-haired lady met my gaze from the grand entry hall.  I stood there not knowing what to say.  Was she going to call the police?  Did she think I was a crazy criminal?  Or, was she going to put me in a cellar and use me in human sacrifices?  There were sooooo many ways this could go.  When she spoke, however, my fear went away completely.  She extended her hand and offered to tour me around her home.  I followed her inside and listened as she spoke of the home's history and told me stories of her time at Wickland.  She was the wife of a local physician, and had lived in the home since the 40's.  It was absolutely intriguing.  I will never forget that sweet old lady and the time she allowed me into her world.  Fast-forward to Saturday.  I was perusing the Internet for things to do when I found the advertisement for a Spiritual Tour of Wickland.  I was exstatic.  My sister, who had been begging to go to a haunted house since she arrived last week, was immediately on board  :)

We proceeded to the fabled home expecting an old gray haired mystical lady to greet us wearing long black robes and pentagram necklaces.  To our surprise, the medium /tour guide ended up being plural (mediums), twin girls, age 20, who looked more like Teen Vogue models than see-ers of the dead.  However they looked, these two were the real deal.  It was so interesting.  During the tour, we connected with two spirits, both slaves from the 1830's, Walletta and Antwan.  I swear, the things that happened were absolutely not possible absent spirit intervention.  I won't go into detail, but I will say that the whole thing made believers out of a couple of hard-core skeptics in the group.

I have always believed in life after death.  I don't know how you can be Christian and not believe that life goes on.  So, is it that hard to believe that there are a select group of people on this earth that can connect with the afterworld?  A small group of individuals that have heightened senses and can communicate with those who have passed on?  I don't think so. 

That being said, I have visited quite a few "mediums" over the years.  Some were full of crap.  But a couple simply COULD NOT have known the things that were coming out of their mouths without the assistance of one of my family members (dead or alive).  Since they had no access to the ones who were still alive, I am only left with the unshakable opinion that they had a window into the afterworld.  One such medium told me that my Papaw stays constantly by my side and acts as my guardian angel.  I can't tell you how much this warmed my heart.  His death was extremely difficult on me.  And I had felt his presence before, but had always feared that those feelings were mere wishful thinking.  This information not only validated my personal experiences, but made me feel protected and peaceful.  My sister has since been told the same thing about our Mamaw.  Laura was unmistakingly Mamaw's favorite grandchild.  After her passing, a medium made it clear that Mamaw is with Laura all the time.  I know she felt the same feeling of relief and joy.

Anyway, back to the point.  After our tour of Wickland on Saturday night, and after the crowd departed, I asked one of the mediums to accompany me back to the kitchen where we had connected with the spirit of Walletta.  You see, we were using dousing rods which spirits are thought to manipulate in answers to questions.  I did not get to hold the rods while we were talking with Walletta, although Antwan answered many of my questions and even hugged me with the rods.  :)  Our medium, Katie, told us during the tour that Walletta 'knew' things.  That she could answer questions about our future.  The medium didn't know why Walletta seemed to know the future, but said to her knowledge Walletta's answers all proved to be correct.

So after hours, standing in the kitchen of Wickland with only Katie, Tom, and my sister, I asked Walletta the only question I wanted an answer for.  I asked Walletta whether we would ever be blessed with children.  I said it outloud, voice cracking and eyes tearing up before finishing my question. I watched as the dousing rods began to move.  I felt an unseen force push them from one position to another, where they rested crossed in front of me in the shape of an "X".  This was Walletta's signal for "yes."  I cried. 

Maybe I'm crazy for believing.  Maybe this 20 year old Abercrombie and Fitch model was merely a cleverly disguised con artist.  Maybe the nearly 200 year old home was wired to move the dousing rods back and forth.  I guess no one ever can say for sure.  But, I can tell you as sure as I am alive that I didn't move the rods.  And, I can tell you that whatever other people think, I believe my new, but old friend, Walletta.

Happy Halloween to everyone (and yes, the above-statements are true and not merely for entertainment purposes)!  When you are putting John or Jane into those cute little Halloween costumes, please remember how wonderfully blessed you are.  There are people out there (me) that would do anything to have someone to dress up other than myself.  I guess I will just spend another Halloween in my witch costume (which is fabulous, by the way) waiting for the day that I can be accompanied by a little pumpkin or goblin.  :)

Shiver me timbers!

So, I have slept AMAZINGLY better in the last couple days.  On Saturday, I missed a date with a wonderful old friend because I passed out after the 5K.  And I mean passed out!  I came back to the house to "lay down" for a couple minutes and woke up hours later.  Much to my dismay, I had missed a planned lunch date with a dear friend from college.  So sorry Shannon (aka Holby)!  I could have kicked myself!!!!  Since then, I have slept pretty much through the night (well, as much as much as I can).  AND, no more nausea!!!  I'm so thankful!

Anyway, I have been done with my first round of Provera since Friday.  So, I can't help but think my miraculous healing has something to do with being done with those evil pills.  Make no mistake people, the Devil is alive and well and he goes by the name "Provera."

I likely have one more round of Provera before going back for a second pelvic ultrasound.  At that point, Dr. X will take a look and tell me whether I have to do another surgery.  Your prayers that I do not have to go through that again would be much appreciated.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain, and wallet, around the realization that we have to do injectible fertility drugs and artifiicial insemination.  I remember watching cheesy early 90's movies (Forget Paris anyone?) dealing with artificial insemination.  It seemed so strange, so foreign, and most certainly something I would NEVER have to deal with.  And yet, here I am.  It's still very weird.  Kind-of surreal.

Tom and I were talking about the cutness that is our neighbor's children a little while ago.  They have two children, a boy and a girl, ages 5 and 4 respectively.  They are dolls.  I mean dolls!  On Easter, Tom and I stood in the back windows watching them play in the backyard.  The little boy had his big Pirates-in-the-Carribean pirate hat on carrying a large sword (of course, fake).  The little girl was wearing a cute little dress, feathery/girly pirate hat, and wielding her own little sword.  She was going after her big brother with a fierceness that made me proud to be female. 

Tom is into jeeping.  He has several pirate themed bumper stickers and memorabilia.  One of these items was a black flag with a white skull & bones.  The very next day after watching the Easter pirate-themed performance, Tom told me he was taking his pirate flag over for the neighboor children to hang in their treehouse.  He decided this on his own, and promptly took it over and gave it as a gift for the kids.  It now hangs proudly outside the tree house their father built earlier this year. 

  I'll never forget how proud I was the day he walked that silly flag next door and gave it to our neighbors.  It made thier day.  They thought it was soooooooo cool.  And I was, without a doubt, impressed. 

This was the moment I knew FOR CERTAIN that Tom would be the father of my children (if possible).  At the very least, this was the moment I knew I had found my life partner. 

Stuck in Purgatory

My insomnia comes and goes, intensifying and waning depending upon my stress and overall health.  This week has been worse than usual.

I equate insomnia with purgatory.  You're never really asleep, and you're never really awake. It's the in between.  You zombie-walk through your days thinking of nothing but the moment when your head can hit the pillow again.  And alas!  The minute you lay down, your brain finally wakes up and starts working frantically as if to try and catch up.  Your body says NO I"M TIRED, but your brain doesn't listen.  So, there you are.  Your body & your mind are on totally different schedules.  And like always, when it's brains against brawn, brains wins. 

This week has been extremely bad insomnia-wise.  I initially fall asleep (aided by my good friend Ambien), only to wake two to three hours later with NO CHANCE of going back.  Aside from my obvious susceptibility to insomnia, the Provera pills aren't helping matters.  The following are listed as side-effects:   "breast tenderness, breast milk secretion, breakthrough bleeding or spotting (minor vaginal bleeding), irregular periods, absence of menstrual periods, vaginal secretions, headache, nervousness, dizziness, depression, insomnia, sleepiness, fatigue, premenstrual syndrome-like symptoms, thrombophlebitis (inflammation cause by blood clots), itching, hives, skin rash, acne, hair loss, hair growth, abdominal discomfort, nausea, bloating, fever, increase in weight, swelling, changes in vision and sensitivity to contact lenses."  Absent the milk secretion (yuck) and hair loss, I can honestly say I have experienced every single one of these side-effects.

Regardless of the discomfort and inconvenience, I am absolutely committed to doing this.  I want so badly to be a mother, and I want Tom to be the father of my children.  But aside from the purgatory of insomnia, I also feel like I'm stuck in some kind of screwed up fertility-purgatory.  I'm not fertile, obviously,  But I'm not a hopeless case either ~ Doctors believe I will eventually be able to conceive.  Like all those stuck in limbo, I mostly want to know how long I have to stay here.  I  believe this would be so much easier if I could just know how long it was going to last.  Like if someone could say, "Yes, you are going to go through this hell for _____ months, but if you are really good, you will then be released."  Problem is no one can tell me that.  Not Tom, not my mom or sister, and not the Doctor.  I could be stuck here indefinitely.  And, it's the waiting that makes it all the more tragic and difficult.

There is nothing that can be done.  I just keep trying to remind myself of the possibilities.  But, at 3:00 a.m. for the third night in a row, the hours just get harder and harder to pass with a positive attitude.

So, to you Catholics out there, any tips for getting myself out of Purgatory?  Or to the countless others who have shared their incredible fertility treatment journeys with me since starting this blog, do you have any advice on how to get through?  How to get through without driving myself completely insane first, that is?

The Blame Game

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them. "  George Bernard Shaw

For me, this past year has been one full of change, exploration, healing, redemption, and discovery.  For too many years, I reagarded my unhapiness and disappointment as  the unavoidable consequences of everyday life.  I assumed that these feelings were normal.  I tried to act as if it were ok.  But, the thing about acting is that  you can't go on forever living in someone else's idea of contentment.  The longer it goes, the more you lose sight of yourself and the harder it is to find you.

I remember looking at myself in the mirror or listening to myself speak and thinking, "Who are you?  Where did I go?"  And I can't describe the lonliness that comes with losing sight of yourself completely.  It is all-consuming and devastating.  I was desperate for a change.  I was desperate to feel alive again. 

I don't know exactly when I finally realized that I could no longer blame others or my circumstances for my lot in life.  It was my life.  My life to live, or to change for that matter.  "A man sooner or later discovers that he is the master-gardener of his soul, the director of his life."   (James Allen)
I don't know what other people do to get themselves back.  And I don't remember the exact moment that I realized big decisions and big changes would be required.   But I could no longer blame others for my unhappiness.  It was my life to live, or not to live, for that matter.  And so, it was also my life to change.

I don't presume that the path I chose was entirely right or entirely wrong.  I hurt and disappointed loved ones along the way.  I even lost people and things that had once meant everything to me.  These negative consequences were largely consequences of my own cowardice and attempts at self-protection.  I suppose these are the unintended but unavoidable consequences of seeking a different life.  You can't change your life without changing the scenery.  But, I still struggle to come to peace with the losses and the broken hearts.

That being said, the positive effects on my everyday life have more than outweighed the negative.  The strain on friendships/family relationships actually led to deeper and more meaningful/honest connections.  There is a new level of understanding and honesty between my immediate family and I which is irreplaceable.  It is now clear the friendships and other things which I lost in the interim had actually run their course.  I harbor no hard feelings, it simply was time for each of us to move on.  Most importantly, I am living the life I want.  I am in a relationship which inspires and renews me.  I see and hear me again.  I'm back. 

Please understand, I mean in no way to comment on or discuss the details of my previous relationship.  Suffice it to say that one of the consequences of my life change was a divorce from someone I cared, and continue to care about, immensely.  Divorces are devastating and heartbreaking on both parties.  No matter how unhappy and unfulfilling the marriage, the decision to leave your partner is quite possibly one of the hardest in life to make.  It is frightening and difficult to cut that last string holding you and another person together.

And, there is always a villian.  In my story, I was quite obviouslly crowed the villian.  Some of this very public determination was warranted. I made mistakes and contributed my share to the breakdown of the marriage.  "A man should never be ashamed to own he has been in the wrong, which is but saying, in other words, that he is wiser today than he was yesterday."  (Alexander Pope)  But, as many labels are, this one-diminsional attempt at an explanation is also extremely unfair and superficial.  The breakdown of a fourteen-year relationship is so much more complicated, there is so much more to consider, it's not just black and white.   But I will gladly accept this designation in the hopes of finding true happiness in the future.  Happiness that takes no stock of my imputed "villianous" persona.  Luckily, I believe I have already found it.

I have been asked whether the upheavil was worth it.  Whether, if I were taken back in time, would I make the same decisions and demand the same changes.  My answer is resoundingly yes.  Because had I not acted to change my life and create happiness where there was none, I would have no one to blame but myself.

This quest for a child is also an extension of my original "seek happiness" plan.  Again, I waited too long to act.  And again, if I just sat back and let the opprotunity to seek a family pass me by now, I would have no one to blame but myself.