Saving Christmas

My great grandmother died when I was five. She was a cool lady. She used to make all kinds of stuff. She knit baby blankets, hats, and mittens. She also was known to make a lot of things in ceramics class at the senior center.

She had 5 daughters. Those 5 daughters went on to have a total of 17 children of their own. And those 17 children went on to have a shit ton more. I have a ton of cousins. So you see, there are a large number of people between me and Grammy.

So, when she passed away I didn't get anything of hers.

I have a blanket she made for me when I was born, and a mug she made for me when I was a little girl. But I don't have anything of hers.

The coolest thing Grammy used to make was nativity sets. She handpainted a set for each of her 5 daughters. She also glazed a set for my mom right before her death. My mother's nativity set has been a cherished memory of mine all of my life. It is just so special.

Every year my brother and I would trade off on who got to set up the manger. We would run to put baby Jesus in his "spot" every Christmas morning. It is one of my fondest childhood memories of Christmas.

Since moving out and making a home of my own, I have longed for my own nativity set. I have literally looked at hundreds. And none of them ever fit the bill.

They just didn't seem special.

In fact, last year one of my aunts bought me a few peices of the Precious Moments nativity scene. And as I set them on my table this year I thought, these are cute but they just aren't Grammy's.

Apparently, in 1981 Grammy made herself a nativity set. She handpainted each figurine and my Great Grandfather built a manger for the set. And when she passed away in 1990, my Great Aunt Lee inherited the set.

Fast forward to Christmas Eve 2009.

After dinner, my grandmother instructed Mr. Rootbeer to follow her out to her car because she had something for me in the trunk. They returned with a large box. My grandmother explained that Aunt Lee asked her to give this to me this Christmas. I opened the box and inside was the most wonderful Christmas gift I have ever received.

Grammy's nativity.

Complete with the manger that Grampy has made.

I cannot put into words the joy I felt setting up the nativity on Christmas morning. I am certain I will treasure this gift for the rest of my life. And I can only hope that my children, that I WILL have, will treasure this Christmas tradition as much as I have.

So, thank you Aunt Lee. Thank you for saving Christmas.

Bah Humbug

I would first like to say that I am a Christmas whore.

I loooooove Christmas.

I am one of those people that starts listening to the ever-corny Christmas music the very day after Thanksgiving. I will even admit that my obsession with this overly commercial holiday goes as far as I start planning how I will decorate our house as early as Halloween.

Because shortly after Christmas comes New Years, and who doesn't love New Year's Eve?

And right after New Year's Eve comes my birthday. Which is obviously the highlight of my year.

I usually spend the week leading up to Christmas singing songs, wearing red and green, cheerfully wrapping gifts and baking yummy treats. And I love to shop, so Christmas shopping has never been an annoyance. I gladly brave the packed parking lots and long lines because I truly love to buy gifts for my loved ones.

This year just feels so different. Don't get me wrong here, I am still enjoying seeing family and giving the gifts I have purchased. Except everything else was such a pain in the ass this year.

My heart just isn't in it. And I can't help but wonder if that pesky date conviently sandwiched between New Year's and my birthday is to blame...

Jan 5th.

Fuck that day. I have been dreading it for almost 9 months now. And here it is, just in time to ruin the holidays.

Christmas cards make me wanna barf, yet I sent them anyway. Complete with a picture of my two dogs, because face it people I have no kids.

Shopping this year ranked slightly above sticking a fork into my eyeball.

Work Secret Santa...I got the poor chick a bottle of vodka and a redbull.
I kid you not.
And I will share my thought process on picking this gift out. I said to myself, "Self, what would you want from the work secret santa?"
Bottle of vodka was the first thing that came to mind.

Christmas cookies...I made them but only because stuffing my face is a priority these days. I am working to ensure that none of the clothes I get for Christmas fit.

And don't even get me started on wrapping all those fucking gifts. OMG pain in the ass.

So, faithful blog readers, I am officially over Christmas.

The only positive thing I can come up with is that it is in fact a indication that this suck ass year is almost over.

*************************************************************************************
also I hate that CBEFM.

I don't even think I ovulated this cycle. Which is just fan-fucking-tastic.

I am right on schedule to get my period on Jan 1st.

Whiskey.Tango.Foxtrot?

FML

Still here

I'm still here in the 2ww. I am debating on whether to test on Thanksgiving.

My original plan was to wait until the CBEFM tells me I am late, and then I would test.

I don't like that plan anymore.

I am impatient.

I want to test on Thursday. I have good vibes about this cycle for some strange reason. I will be approx. 9-10 DPO on Thursday.

WWYD?

And so it begins...

the dreaded 2ww.

That's right folks, I peed on my nifty little stick today and stuck it in the CBEFM and ta da! My fertile phase is over.

I really loathe this part of my cycle. I have come to realize that almost every symptom of pregnancy, short of two lines of course, and every symptom of AF are pretty much the same. The exhaustion, the pimples, the headaches, and just plain feeling like shit.

I put zero stock in symptoms. Which, for me is a healthy development. I refuse to even entertain the idea that I could be pregnant until I see those two little magic lines.

But, you see, that's the part of this that makes the 2ww the little whore she is. She uses her alluring trickery to fool you into thinking you have a chance.

But in reality, I do have a chance. A pretty good one. And thanks to the CBEFM, Mr. Rootbeer and I have had sex every night for the past 10 days. So, I'm thinkin our chances are pretty good. We will see.

O!

Well folks it looks like today is the day I have been waiting for. I got a "peak fertility" reading on the CBEFM this morning. Complete with an adorable picture of a little egg. I should be O'ing today or tomorrow.

:swoon:

Sex-a-thon November 2009 continues...

Pinky

The CBEFM is still reading "high fertility" today. I was sure I would wake up and get a "peak fertility" reading today. I think I read somewhere that it may not give a "peak fertility" reading the first cycle in use because the monitor doesn't "know" me yet. So, my friends, the sex-a-thon continues.

Not even a broken toe could stop us.

I would like to take a moment to tell you all that I am an accident waiting to happen. I think it may have something do with my lack of depth perception. I walk into EVERYTHING. Last week we went to NYC to see a show and I fell flat on my face on 138th street. Brusied my shin pretty good. A few days later I slipped on the back cement steps leading down to our patio and busied my ass. I have a big black bruise the size of Mr. Rootbeer's fist on my right ass cheek. Or so he tells me.

But last night takes the cake. I really couldn't tell you how this happened. That's how ridiculous it is. Anywho, I was walking in my living room and somehow managed to kick the couch. Yup. And broke my little pinky toe, and possibly the one next to it. I can barely walk.

I got into bed and Mr. Rootbeer came in and we decided a little broken toe won't stop us. :)

If I get knocked up this cycle, I shall call the baby Pinky.

A Trip Down Memory Lane

A few months ago I put google analytics on my blog. I was interested in seeing if anyone was even reading my blog and where my readers were coming from. I was quite surprised to find I actually had readers. And from all over the country and even in other countries.



So, yesterday I was sitting around with Mr. Rootbeer, watching football as per usual on a Sunday afternoon, when I decided to pull up google analytics and check on this little old blog. And would you believe that people are still reading my blog? When I figured this out I felt just plain guilty. Guilty, because my blog has sucked hardcore lately. I have been writing without inspiration. Or barely writing at all.



I needed inspiration and guidance. And somehow I got the bright idea to go back and read all my posts from the beginning. This was really the first time I have gone back and remembered those few weeks I had my baby. The verdict is still out on whether this was a good idea.



You decide.



My blog can basically be broken up into 4 parts.



Part 1 - TTC ROUND 1

This made me laugh. I was so impatient after trying for only a few cycles. Alas, I can recall some of these feelings. I remember being so frustrated the cycle I got pregnant. I remember the night we found out. But when I read the post about that night, I remembered much more. I knew I was pregnant before I ever saw those two lines. I remember going to dinner with Mr. Rootbeer that night and telling him I was pretty sure it would be my last sushi dinner for a while. I remember getting home from dinner and Bubs telling me to test. I remember seeing the lines and feeling so happy. I know happy is a pretty run of the mill way to describe such an overwhelming emotion but when I think back all I can see is happy.



Part 2 - Baby Rootbeer

Once I saw those two lines my blog was happy. There's that word again. This was the happiest time my blog has ever seen, and yet when I read it last night it was the hardest part to read. One one hand it was sweet to see how delighted and hopeful I was, on the other hand it was sad to see how innocent and unaware I was.



There was a post about pregnancy pimples that brought me to tears. I was complaining about having zits all over my body. But at the end of the post I said something to the effect of not being able to wait to hear Baby Rootbeer's heartbeat and how it would be the sweetest sound I had ever heard next to hearing Baby Rootbeer's first cry. I never got to hear those sounds. It breaks my heart all over again.



Part 3 - The Aftermath

Ok this is the part where shit hit the fan. After losing Baby Rootbeer I was a mess. It was hard to read. I had posted a recount of the events of that day. And I had tears streaming down my face as I read it last night. This section is full of raw emotion. Sadness, greif, confusion and sheer disbelief.



Part 4 - TTC Round 2

This is where the blog really started to turn to shit. Because you see, there is no magic left in TTC for me. I write about nothing. The posts show clear signs of a bitter and depressed newlywed. How wonderful.



I have friends who are TTC for the first time. They are so excited and filled with hope and anticipation. I dare not burst their bubble. However, I am insanely jealous. I wish I could get that feeling back. I feel like I am stuck somewhere I am not supposed to be.



According to google analytics, an average of 6 of you have been reading these miserable posts. So, to the six of you I apologize. I vow that I will make a valiant effort to make my blog better. To entertain you with the funny little anecdotes that occur, and to fill you in on the details of TTC round 2.



And since we are focusing on positivity...there was something wonderful I found while reading my blog. I found all the wonderful, supportive, and loving comments left by readers. Thank you. Thank you for the support and the love.



The truth is people. I am scared. I am absolutely terrified of being pregnant again. Even though it is the one thing I want more than anything.



What happens then? Will I be happy again? Will all the pain I have been trying to process over the past 6 months go away? Will I be able to enjoy another pregnancy?



I guess we will cross all of these bridges when we come to them.



I am also anxious about my impending due date. January 5th. The day Baby Rootbeer was estimated to arrive. What the fuck am I supposed to do on that day? Just thinking about it causes my chest to tighten. And as this day approaches I find myself being reminded of what I should be doing. I should be finishing up the nursery. I should be attending my shower. I should be huge. The approach of this due date and the holidays makes me want to run away.



:deep breath:



OK enough about that.



In CBEFM news, it is still giving me a "high fertility" reading. Today is CD 15. Mr. Rootbeer and I have been having a sex-a-thon for a few days now and I don't plan on calling it quits until I see a "peak fertility" reading. Also, I bought a pineapple.



I am desperate people. The thought of standing on my head after sex has actually crossed my mind in a serious manner.