Shopping!!

I have a little secret. When I was in Laguna Beach last weekend I was 5 days after the transfer and having signs already but still holding out for proof. I stepped into an art gallery of an artist whom I discovered in Lahaina, Maiu, where I even him saw in person as a family bought an original for $35,000. Vlademire Kush. I have loved and admired his work for years and only stumble apon his galleries while traveling. I had no intention of buying anything, as Stef is the art person and has dressed every inch of wall possible for display with his art collection or his photography. The nice lady asked me if I had any questions....I found myself asking how much his prints go for. She started to explain how some are not even for sale anymore as they are the last of the series, where his originals are,(don't think any were there)and she proceeds to show me a 'good value' print that just came in taking me to a part of the gallerie I had not looked at yet. She points to a limited series print called 'A New Day' and it takes my breath away. I swear it was a sign. Stunned, almost speechless, I ask how much, and then she was stunned and speechless when I heard myself saying 'I'll take it'. I felt it was fate. Needless to say, it will be the show piece in the baby room. It's hard to describe if you are not familiar with his work, but it has to do with a baby, and it represented the transfer and what I hoped the baby was doing in my womb at that very moment. When she was wrapping it for me, we were both socked to realize that the back of the painting was signed by him!!! An added little bonus I felt lucky to have.

Also, I was so excited to go shopping with my sister in law yesterday - I'm still in Salt Lake City right now- to my first maternity store!! And got a few things for 'later'. Also, as it was my 40th as well yesterday, I got my first baby gift...a tickle monster story book kit!! I cant wait for all the fun coming up....I have been ready for this for ten years.

One Little Diiorio....on the way!!!

Our very difficult and trying journey of two and a half years came to a close as soon as I picked up that stick, hands shaking, and read "YES+". My entire world changed at that moment. Pure, liquid, bright relief and freedom flooded by soul and I completely fell apart for a few minutes. I had had signs that I am pregnant but have been fooled before. Mind you, not signs like these, but once you've been pummeled for almost three years, you don't believe anything anymore.

I have crossed over to world that so many take for granted because it happened when they decided. The world of true womanhood - motherhood. And that pregnancy test stick was my walking wand, and the 'yes' my green light.

I'm having an absolute ball.

Little Reminders

I stood on my front step and wept. When I saw the envelope with just my first name written on it appear out of my mailbox, I wondered who and what, since my birthday is not for two weeks. I was clueless. When I opened it, I broke down. It was a little reminder of not only who is thinking of me, but who I am on my way to meet.
This little surprise made me realize how special our journey has become to everyone around us. My upcoming trip to Denver to fetch my 'Shining Star' star been on everyone's mind. It has been apparent in the texts, phone calls and emails saying 'I'm thinking of you' or 'how are you feeling' or the hugs with 'I hope it works out for you' whispered in my ear. I truly love you all for genuinely sharing in our journey, and truly caring. And mostly, for showing it. I cannot seem to prepare myself for the ultimate outcome....as the tug of war between hope and what may not be is at constant battle. But you have all supported me in ways that I cannot thank you enough for, and truly appreciate.
My inner avoidance of facing our parenthood destiny comes with avoidance of truly thinking about my 'Shining Star'. I know our little one is in Denver waiting, ready to fight for life, but I don't dare to truly connect with it in my mind just yet. The fear is too great. That is why I wept on my front step. I opened the card to find caring words about our upcoming trip to Denver and a small gift. As the sunlight reflected off the shinny pendant, I was dazzled by how it caught the rays of light. It was in the shape of a star. A beautiful, five point, shining star.

On fate and flies

Sometimes I am going on about my business in my kitchen when I notice a fly buzzing up against the inside of the window. Always somewhat of a philosopher and not a fly swatter owner, I stop what I'm doing and contemplate the fly. I think for a moment what it must be like, to be trying to satisfy its greatest instinct - to fly towards light - but having this unseen obstacle in the way. It cannot understand that no matter how many times it tries to fly into the light and outside, it will never happen. When I combine the fly's frustration and the tragedy of it all, I grab a glass, cup the fly, carefully slide an envelope under the mouth of the glass, and walk towards the door. Then something very interesting happens. The fly thinks it's going to die. It panics inside the glass, convinced something terrible is about to happen......and then it's free. Some unknown and not well understood force came along and changed its course. To the fly, I do not exist....but I am the reason it was able to satisfy the most powerful basic instinct. Life.

In many ways, I feel like that fly up agaist the window. Buzzing into un unseen obstacle to satisfy my most basic instinct......nurturing. Coupled with the fact that I have allowed my career to be stunted while we wait to see what happens with IVF, I feel like my head is hitting that window on a lot of levels. If a fly's dead end can be altered by something it doesn't see or understand, why can't ours. Is it possible that at some point, all of us get cupped against the window we are banging our head against and are gently moved to a place we can finally soar? I don't see why not. If a fly deserves it....so do we. And I hope I will be soaring soon. This window is getting to me. My life is beyond it. I can see it but can't get to it. One way or another, this transfer in Denver will be my cup.

Need your opinion - poll is on!

OK. As this is it, our last try, I am being super paranoid about everything I am doing and eating and am thinking of seeing a nutritionist. I am pretty well read in this department, but have spent most of my life as a vegetarian and think it's OK to drink coffee untill a week before the FET. Maybe there is a cleansing, high antioxidant diet, or a diet full of avocados and pears (shown to target the health of the uterus) that I can consider. Maybe she can do all the research for me and guide me into a direction that will improve my chances of the blast attaching. Or am I nuts? The consult is $110. OK I think, for piece of mind. But I will be pissed off if she showes me that Canada food guide and sends me on my way. Really pissed. Please respond to my poll!!

Oh right....the baby thing

OK...It's time...I really should tell you, that I won't be telling you anything. Our blastocyst ( 5 day old embryo ) is waiting us in Denver. I am preparing for the transfer sometime this summer and am not devulgin the date to anyone. After calgary, I realized something. IVF strips you of many things....including the element of surprise. If your friend, daughter, sister, niece, whomever, got pregnant, you get a phone call or a visit, filled with joy, cheers and happy tears. Do you know the exact date of her pregnancy test? No you don't. So I want that back in this process. The element of surprise. Having said that, there will be news, one way or the other, by the end of the summer. (my IVF bloggers, please see below)

I have been in touch with my nurse and know what's coming for the preparation. I don't just show up in Colorado and welcome the little one into my womb. I will again be suppressing my natural cycle with hormones, will be taking lupron injections, and injecting progesterone in oil into muscle. Lovely. Along with estrogen patches and progesterone suppositories. For weeks and weeks. THEN I get to go to Colorado and get my little one.

How am I coping with the sheer mind-blowing stress of this being the beginning of the rest of my life? As a mother - Or not? .....Living for everyday, focusing on the present only, hoping for the best, trusting what's meant to be, and so far the most effective method.....joining a Zumba class.

I will chime in from time to time to report on other things...so in the mean time, thank you for all your love and support.

As for my IVF blogging community buddies, I have built a separate blog for while I'm on my transfer protocol. If I have not sent it to you, or you need it sent again, lease let me know. I have not seen it on anyone's blog lists and would love more followers!

The Italian Way

First, a few cultural differences between her and Italy. Some was downright culture shock.

Wine: We only realy enjoyed wine in Tuscany, the heart of Chianti region. I must admit I never cared much for the stuffi. Until I drank it from the makers. Not the runny, sour, headachy stuff I get here. Total loveliness and it went down super nice overlooking the meadows of Tuscany. But traditionally, wine is served in regular water glasses, usually home made and drank with only the meal. I asked for a wine glass in a "home style" restaurant outside of Rome and got laughed at. Other than my chianti and a glass of wine a had in Rome, wine was not a highlight.

Bread. I am still scratching my head over this one. OF COURSE the bread was to die for. It depended on where though. Some bread was better and softer than others and for only white bread, it was surprisingly diverse. That was the killer though. Only white bread. When I talked to English speaking relatives about brown bread, whole grains, multigrain, etc, they had no idea what I was talking about. Eventually, I found out that his type of bread is called "integral", meaning the integral part of the bread. You won't find it by the way, outside of the breakfast in your hotel. Italians do not struggle with diabetes and obesity like we do so is white flour the real culprit? Now, sit down. Guess what. In the Tuscany region, many years ago, Pisa and Florence were at war. As a boycott, Pisa stopped sending Florence salt. So they had to make bread without salt. They got used to it and to uphold the tradition, very unfortunately, they still, to this day, use NO salt when baking bread. ALL the bread we ate for four days in Florence, Pisa and Tuscany - just flour, water and yeast. It truly was the most putrid thing I've eaten. So sad. Blend paper and water together, and it will be the same mouthful.

Coffee. This is not an easy one to convey. Forget everything you know and have come to understand about coffee and coffee culture in North America. Wipe it clean from your mind. Now, only introduce espresso machines in restaurants and coffee bars (more on that later) and stove top espresso percolators at home. A 'coffee' is a shot of espresso. Period. End of story. Traditionally, it is served with hot milk on the morning, either in the form of a latte or cappuccino. I asked for a latte in mid afternoon and was kindly educated. There are no coffee shops. There are coffee bars, where you stand, order your shot, drink it and leave. If you want to sit down at a table if the place has them, then you will be served by a waiter. I have never seen so many people eating and drinking while standing. I am a fan of milk in my coffee, so would ask for a cafe machiatto, which means a 'marked' coffee, or a drop of milk in your espresso shot. I must admit, I have come to appreciate this 'refined' coffee culture and will miss it.

Water. You would think this was simple. No. I always get pissed off when I come to Europe, because how caveman Canada still is about water. EVERYWHERE you go in Europe, even ghetto gas stations, have a choice of sparkling or regular water. In restaurants, same. In Canada, you have a choice of regular water, or pop. Very rarely, I'll spot a Perrier her at home, but I'm talking about regular Dasani water, but with gas in it. NO WAY JOSE. And another thing...it is illegal for restaurants to serve water from the tap in Italy. It must be bottled. And you must pay for it. No free water with your pasta. At my in-laws, I always wondered why they have bottled water on the super table all the time....oohhh, that's why!

Traffic: Nuts. Nuts. Nuts. Calling the vehicles in Rome 'cars' is too generous. They are ALL tiny, and there is a sea of them where ever you go. Either parked or moving and honking. The mopeds will run you down if you let them, that's if you can wiggle yourself out from between two parked cars when you cross the street.

The pee pee thing. Or Bidet, invented by the French. It's in every bathroom I saw, except for public washrooms. Hotels and our relatives had it everywhere. For the first time, I felt like a cave person. Scratching my head and grunting above a foreign object. I have seen them before but not in this abundance. I know what they're for, but refuse to go there. I don't know what's grosser....using one or not using one. There is even special soap! for them. When I told my cousin they don't exist in Canada, she asked how we wash 'down there'. Maybe we take more showers or something.

The best part of Rome, Tuscany, Isernia, Amalfi Coast, Florence? meeting Stef's family. And yes, we were asked about kids, with Stef's 90 year old grandmother rubbing my belly asking "niete?" So I said "Proviamo", or "we're trying". Speaking of which...stay tuned for news this summer on the transfer of our little one in Denver. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures using this link.
 http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150283660431281.373872.750676280&l=5527aa23ee

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