November 2007


Remember that pregnancy ambush I was worried about a few posts back.  It kinda never happened that night, but it is lurking around me waiting to pounce as soon as I am weak.

You are probably asking how it kinda never happened.  It either did or didn’t, kind of like you are or are not pregnant.  Ha, if only life were so simple.  If only…

It kinda never happened only because it was kinda never admitted.  Make sense?  Well, we arrived first and had our drinks ordered.  The couple in pregnancy limbo arrived last so it was incredibly noticeable when she held the menu up to her face and asked the server for something non-alcoholic.  Bah, like I am that stupid.  When the server presented her with options, she asked especially for the decaffeinated ones. Hmmm…. None fit the requirements of her hidden fetus so she settled on water. Tap water because apparently bubbly stuff gives her heartburn.

If drinking just water wasn’t enough of a sign, how about the touch of her leg by her DH while asking how she was holding up.  Mr. Jitter’s and I adore each other entirely, but he has never asked me how I am holding up unless I am doing something that is hard – physically or emotionally or when I was briefly pregnant.   Kinda funny, don’t cha think…

If that is not enough, add to the evidence the following conversation at house.  Me: “Would you like some coffee? It is decaf.”  Her: “What kind of decaf?”  Me: “Do you mean kind of coffee or how decaffeinated? If so, it is chem free decaf.” Her: “Oh, great, I need to avoid the decaf chemicals.”  Me: (in my head) yes, beatch, would that be for your little secret that you have to avoid chemicals…..

It has not yet been confirmed that she is in fact knocked up, but the evidence seems to mounting in favor of that assessment.  I can understand that it may be early and she may not want to share her news yet.  I respect that, but come on, don’t give me so many clues.  Mr. Jitters has the male version of preg-dar and he was even picking up the signs.  At dinner he whispered in my ear, “Well, babe, at least our kid will have playmates. You do know that our kid is in the world right now waiting for us, right?  We will be great parents.”  I didn’t need the reassurance, but it was nice to know this was not just me acting overly infertile.  On the good side, it was our night to talk about our adoption and it was not dwarfed by another stupid pregnancy announcement.

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On a slightly different stupid pregnancy announcement note…….

I am currently in Madtown for work and I just got pregnancy ambushed by a recruit.  I informed her about our summer internship and she proudly announced that she is having a baby in late June so that would not be an option for her.

Are there no boundaries or limits?  Not everyone cares about your random announcement.

I ignored it and said, “well take the info anyway in-case you change your mind.”

I wanted to add…… 

……or in case life hits you head on and bites you in the ass and everything that came to you easily that you feel entitled to is suddenly taken away from you.  Just, saying, you know, I know a few “folks” who that has happened to.

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Fill in the blank with what ever adjective you desire after reading this. I chose the f word.

I got an e-mail from the acupuncturist I used to see for fertility. She specializes in women’s health and supposedly has a strong rate of getting women knocked up. I did enjoy her services, although they did not help anything, they were relaxing. I am by no means saying acupuncture does not work. My belief is on the contrary, but it did not help my pregnancy related issues and that just sucks. It was expensive and time consuming and now stressful.

The acupuncturist I saw acted very compassionate to the emotional stress of infertility and informed me that she would like to focus on this area and combine her acupuncture with yoga to help infertile women with a mind body approach. Good idea, well, if once women get pg they magically disappear and are not spoken of ever again. When will people get it that these areas cannot overlap if the application is truly going to be therapeutically beneficial??? There is no benefit of my acupuncture appointment if I leave the room and am bombarded by the herd of pregnant women attending prenatal yoga and having to hear them complaining about having to run to the bathroom often during class (my acupuncturist in in a yoga studio). This happened when I had a Saturday morning acupuncture appointment and I soon avoided this time slot for the very reason of wasting the $75 the session cost me. When I provided feedback to my acupuncturist about this I sensed she didn’t get it.

Now I know she didn’t get it. Not too long ago she send an e-mail to her client base, mostly infertiles, letting them know of her new location/services. Click it and find out why I am so pissed off that I have not found a productive way to respond. I could inform her of her poor business decision, give her the harsh reality, or just ask to be taken off the list. The last option seems too simple becasue I do feel the need to be justified as legitimately annoyed by her actions. I guess that fact that I will no longer recommend her, which I had done quite a bit, is all the action I will probably take.

She doesn’t get. She never will. She will probably throw some mind-body-shit at me about why I can not see the value of this. I will not return to her services….EVER.

Because of NaBloPoMo, this blog has become my ugly step child. This is sad because here I can be my usual crass-ass self and not worry about my mother reading.  I guess I am just so busy that I have less time for crass-assness.  Ah, that is definitely not true, I am just suppressing it.

I need to start letting it out in little bursts.  Like this….

I love beets.  But someone really should have told me that they make you pee red.  I knew about the poo discoloration, but not about the pee.

I ate beets like crazy last week and then Friday night as I was preparing for the pregnancy ambush that only kinda happened I saw red.  I have gotten over seeing red that should not be present in THAT area, but this was due north a tad and I had the swirling rose colored evidence to prove it.  Friends were over at our house at the time and even though we know them very well I could not call them in to verify.  Instead I suppressed my fear and sat in the car silently on the way to the restaurant.  Obviously abnormal behavior for me because they all kept asking what was wrong and I finally blew that I needed to go to the hospital because I was bleeding.  Bleeding in my pee.

Mr. Jitter’s eyes grew huge, our male friend stared at the dashboard & our female friend shouted. ” you have been eating the CSA beets, haven’t you?”

Unfortunately for me, a beet terrine was the featured appetizer that evening. I chose the cauliflower puree and justified my choice to the server who had been filled in about my quandary that I needed it, ” to balance out the color a bit….”

Since I have stepped way over the line, I will add that the following foods cause odors or discoloration in that area  – please let me know if I am missing anything so I can prevent being surprised again.

  1. asparagus.  Even the writers for Austin Power’s know about this
  2. coffee.  Stinky coffee pee
  3. onions. Mostly pee, but after french onion soup both output valves are affected
  4. captain crunch.  I think it is the food coloring, according to a site I luckily found explaining green poo.

There are some things my mother really failed to tell me.  Add this to the list with never sit on the seat in a public toilet, drinking a jar of pickle juice is not a good way to make an impression on a first date, and it is not optional for cars to have their oil changed.

There are some wonderful things about being a woman.  Don’t expect to find much mention of those things here tonight.

It bothers me that in this day and age, I have to be more fearful than ever about things like running by myself after sunset.  With daylight rapidly fading, I am finding time for my workout schedule cinched to right after I get home from work and before I start making dinner.  I am hungry and tired then, but if I chose to eat and sleep I get crabby and fat.  Men do not have to think about this.

(luckily) Mr. Jitter’s knows me well enough to volunteer to run with me after dark.  Tonight was one of the first really cold days, so I dressed warm and looked like a child still dressed as bum from Halloween next to Mr. Jitter’s in his fancy windproof running clothes. After he stopped laughing at me, he found some items from his collection that I could wear.  YEAH, RIGHT.  He has 2.3% body fat.  I have 16% body fat.  Enough said.  Out of fear of freezing I obliged and wore a tight fitting shirt obviously not made for any woman with curves since it kept maneuvering itself up my midsection with the speed of a child riding the big slide at the state fair. Nothing like making a crabby girl feel better.  Don’t even get me started on the vent about the marathon finisher jerseys we paid for received that were only available in men’s sizes. – tight on the hips and wide in the belly.

Back to point one of my rant.  As we were lapping the lake, I heard myself say: “This is my least favorite part since it is below a bank and I hate being here after dark, but someone would be much less likely to attack us since there are two of us and you are a man.”

So, there is it, a pair of balls gets you built in security and mainstream clothes that you do not have to pay extra for to fit your biological shape.