For the past few months, I've thought a lot about blogging. It's been a while--really since before Eve's birth--since I've committed to this space. After Eve was born, I overcompensated in the privacy department. Caught up in my little world, I didn't take the time to share, to reflect. To some degree, I felt I'd shared the conception experience--I didn't have that moment where I showed my husband a pregnancy test, or those weeks when I was pregnant but nobody knew. By the time we finally conceived, all of those close to me already knew about my fertility journey.

The thing this, in retrospect, my experience (although I wouldn't wish infertility on anyone), was full of love and support. When I shared the news of my pregnancy with my family and close friends, they cried, screamed, celebrated--it's hard to imagine any scenario where I could have received more utter joy.

But some part of me wanted to hold Eve's early days and years close, didn't want to open up to advice, just wanted to be. And as the dust settles, over two years since Eve's birth, I realize that while I love my life as a mother and while I have a lot of good people in my life, I've missed a big opportunity--not specifically in stopping my blog, but really in being open and out there. Blogging wasn't only a good way to connect with others going through similar experiences, but with sharing about my life with those I already know and love.

This is all to say that I plan to blog, although I'm not sure of the space. Ideas are welcome (if anyone is actually reading this, post Google Reader . . . ).

Foot in Mouth?

To say I've been M.I.A. is an understatement. In short, life has been really, really good to me--infertility is behind me, and I have an amazing, chattering 15-month-old. Although I've still been following many bloggers, I haven't felt compelled to post in this space.

Until today, with a random, semi-baby-related Public Service Announcement that I hope to develop into a more refined piece of writing: Hand-foot-mouth disease--adults can get it, too.

The internets tells me that it's rare, so I suppose I am lucky. But holy schnikeys . . . my fingers and the soles of my feet are covered in ant-sized blisters. After my daughter had a bad case for a few days, I remarked to my husband that if it were me, I'd be miserable all the time. She had (and still has to a degree) a thick speckling of blisters and welts on all her most useful and high-impact body parts. And even though she certainly wasn't herself (fitful sleeping, inconsolable after being denied requests to hold a bow while sleeping), she still played while awake, even taking her first steps.

And then there's me. I sent her and my husband on three hours of errands so that I could lie on the couch, watch the Olympics, and eat ice cream.

I think that my catching hand-foot-mouth from my daughter, just like my daughter's catching it from daycare, was inevitable. But still, I wish I hadn't been so naïve about the possibility of my catching it. My daughter and my symptoms followed the same pattern:
* fever(she had 101.4, I had 102.4)
* sore throat/ears (she was misdiagnosed as having an ear infection, I as having an upper respiratory infection)
* red rash/blisters on hands, feet, and, oh, also on the tush (yes, both of us); rash appeared about 36 hours after fever

My blisters are still becoming denser, but hers, thankfully, have been subsiding for a few days now.

Have you experienced hand-foot-mouth disease with your child? Or have you experienced it as an adult? Are you going to block this blog now and take a shower?

The Not-So-Barren Blogger

Our daughter, Eve, has arrived.



Life is hectic and happy and exhausting--everything it should be.

Reemerging

So Friday night before bed, my husband encouraged me to use saline spray to clear out the snot-factory that's become of my sinuses. He complained that in the past, I've used it incorrectly. "Plug one nostril, snort as hard as you can, and don't blow out," he advised. "I will hurl," I responded.

But I tried anyway, and even though neither of us really thought I'd toss my cookies, sure enough, as the spray dripped down my throat, dinner came up--right into a sink, which would have been convenient had the sink not been clogged. Cue my using a paper cup to transfer the vomit from the sink to the toilet, my husband almost adding more to the pile. Somehow we both laughed (after my silent scooping), and I actually slept well that night.

I've been sick for a week, but I'm finally (fingers crossed) almost recovered. Nothing serious--just a nasty, nasty cold/flu. But man, did it put me in a bad mood. Sleeping was a challenge, as breathing was a challenge, and I felt as if I'd never recover. I felt like a failure--with so much shopping and prepping for the baby, the most important thing, staying healthy, I couldn't do. The baby's fine, I know. But if I'm only at a fraction of my capacity, it can't be best for the baby.

Other than that, all is well. We're so lucky that we haven't had any real issues. Tonight we toured the hospital, which is right across the street from my RE's office, where, of course, I haven't been in months. It was all very surreal, the drive, walking the halls of L&D, seeing babies in the nursery. Less than 6 weeks until my due date--just hope that when I make it there, I'm healthy! And if not, it won't be the end of the world.

Going at it alone . . .

I decided this should be a separate post. One of my coworkers who knows I've dealt with infertility told me the other month, with much excitement, that she was planning to seek treatment to have a baby.

Her situation though is a little different--she's 35, and she's single. She's always wanted children, and she made up her mind that man or not, she wasn't going to wait around. She hasn't give up on finding a partner, but she's not going to wait around.

This chick is a lot of fun, and she's super independent. I'm psyched for her, and I hope things work out. It's all so different--her first two-week wait won't be after a hot couple of nights in the sack, but after a Clomid/IUI cycle.

Anyway, she's been giving me the play by play of her appointments, and her IUI is Monday. I told her to call me if she needs help with the trigger this weekend, as she hasn't had to stab herself yet. It's great to be in a place where I feel like I could do that--I think that if I were still trying, I'd probably think, "Ugh, she's going to get knocked up on her first cycle."

(Readers, why am I in such a good mood? It doesn't make for great blogging, does it?)

Thankful

Ladies, it's crazy being on the other side. Today my manager emailed my department of 50+ people to invite them to a baby shower at work . . . for me. I had to open and quickly close the email before I could read it through--it was just so nice. And next weekend my dear girlfriends are coming over for a baby shower, hosted by my best friend, also to be attend virtually by my sister, whom I'll miss a lot. I've already received so many sweet gifts and loaner items. I am so thankful for everything, and receiving this support inspires me to be a better friend, coworker, family member.

The baby is doing well--active, discovering fun new places to stretch her limbs. In less than two months . . .

Laugh Out Loud

I'm on a few infertility-related mailing lists. Today I was emailed this link about fertility medication. And I couldn't help but bust out laughing--how happy is this woman to get her shot?