Merry Christmas Weekend!

I don't know how much writing I will do in the next week, so I'd thought I'd jump on quickly. I left Ithaca yesterday, stopped in Baltimore for the night and headed down to Richmond this morning. I've got a fire going in the fireplace, one dog in front of said fire and the other at the end of the recliner, resting his chin on my feet. My brother and sister-in-law should be home before too long -- and then let the festivities begin.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about the baby and my options. And I've decided to pursue foster to adopt, as a back-up plan. I'm certainly not ready to give up on having a biological child yet -- I think we (the doctors and me) still have a few more things to try before giving up. By I decided, why not learn all I can and be ready, just in case.

I would hate for it to be August (or whatever random month), and be out of options and then have to start a whole new process from scratch. I got the number of someone to talk at DSS, and will make that phone call after the holidays. While I definitely think this a good idea -- to learn, to find out, to have a back-up plan -- it is something that I need to digest for a little while.

I also found out from a friend at work, who hosts the adoption and foster support group at the College, the names of a few people who have specifically done foster to adopt. They will be a good resource for me, to hear about their experiences so I know a little better what to expect.

Six months ago, when I found out that my eggs might not work, that I may have to go donor eggs or IVF route, I was devastated. I wanted nothing more than to be able to carry a baby. Once that shock had worn off, the real goal was -- and always will be -- just to have a baby. No matter how it will happen.

And so I'm proud of myself for still thinking positively that a viable pregnancy could work, I am also thinking realistically, and having other options makes me think even more that there will be a little baby boy or girl in my future. Not someone who will calls me Auntie Ellie, but someone who will call me mommy.

shout out to Nina -- thanks for the messages, glad to have another reader who comments. Happy holidays. I hope the new baby -- whenever it gets here -- can get a pair of mittens :)

10 Shopping Days

I can't believe Christmas is 10 days away. I've started working at the mall for the holidays -- back at Bath & Body Works. One of those places that I would hate to shop in because of how overly attentive their salespeople are, but it's fun to go back once a year, get my discount and little extra money.

On the baby front, it's still a "resting" month, taking the higher level estrogen pills -- which have been delightful on my already fragile emotions. Take that and add in the fact that I'm literally retaining 5 pounds of water (according to the body comp at the nutritionist the other day) and my body is preparing to get pregnant. I've grown out of a few pairs of jeans because of the extra "padding" around my middle. Carolyn told me that there is really nothing she or I can do about this stage, that it may mean me gaining as much as 30 pounds during this process because of all the hormones. Once I get pregnant, she feels that we can have a better handle on the weight gain.

Getting dressed in the morning has not been fun. It usually takes two or three attempts at trying something on, deciding if I fell comfortable in how it fits and how it looks. For someone who just lost 50 pounds and was able to wear anything in her closet (whether is fell over my hips or fit fine), this is very frustrating. I just have to remember that it will be worth it in the end.

And I know that the added weight is only going to my middle, which makes me realize that it really is related to the hormones. My rings are still big and my tops all fit. Its just at the hips and waist.

So is it worth it?

It's a hard question to answer. Right now, not pregnant, six months into the process, who knows how many pounds added...in the moments when I'm most vulnerable, most emotional, feel the most alone -- yea, I want to give up. I want to say it's not worth it. And then the moment I admit that to myself, I know -- immediately -- that I'm wrong.

It's so worth it. And it will be when I have that baby growing inside of me. Who cares of much I weigh at that point (as long as I'm healthy)? And that's what I have to keep remembering. And so I went to Steve & Barry's and bought really cheap pants that fit me or are even a little big. And those will be my post-pregnancy, post-maternity pants.

Because in the end, it doesn't matter what number is on the inside tag of my jeans. A healthy baby, with 10 fingers and 10 toes, will be the only number I care about.

Which brings up another point....

Let's just continue on the Dr. Pervert theme. I can't believe I didn't write about this. I think I was so charged up, so spitting mad, that I couldn't. And then I had my peace with my mother and it was over.

In October, right after my last insemination, my mother and father had to go in to see Dr. Pervert for my dad's shoulder. And in the same breath, she tells me that not only did he say hello to me, but that he also lost my number and she gave it to him again and that she told him what I was doing. What?!

I completely forgot about the phone number issue (I've made it clear to her that she needs to not be handing out my cell phone number to her friends), and moved on the other, bigger issue. "That's none of his business!"

"Oh, he's got a niece who got pregnant with donor sperm, and she bought up all the sperm and ended up having two kids and their biologically full siblings....." I think she was talking so fast so I wouldn't interrupt her. I waited for her to come up for air.

"That is no one's business, that is family business....no one needs to no shit about my life, my decisions until I'm ready for them to know. I'm not pregnant yet, that is none of his business, and you shouldn't be telling people."

She, of course, couldn't understand the concept of why she can't share this news with people, especially people who (she thinks) have my best interest at heart. We hung up, I called my sister and bitched and vented at her. She was just at stunned as I was.

The next day, I was still upset with her, and felt I needed to make her see my point. Rather than calling her and raising my voice and losing my cool, I wrote her an email:

I just want to reiterate the point I tried to make to you last night on the phone, 
and I don't know if I did or not. I know you're excited about the prospect of me 
getting pregnant -- I am too. However, this is nobody's business until I am 
actually pregnant and well past my first trimester. Just as I wanted to be the one 
to tell my brothers and sisters -- and I appreciated that you honored my wishes 
with that -- I will decide when people outside of the family should know, and what 
they should know. There is nothing wrong with how I am getting pregnant, but again, 
it is nobody's business. The thing to say, when the time is right, is "Ellie's 
pregnant -- isn't that great?" The thing to say now when people ask how I am, is 
simply, "she's great."

I'm happy to say that I think she "got it." She wrote back and apologized and said, of course I was right, that this was not her news to share and she needs to respect my wishes.

Until the next time...

Biting My Tongue

I talked to my mom tonight and she was telling me that my sister-in-law is going to need knee surgery, and of course my mother thinks that Sally should go to Dr. Pervert. Sally, however, told her that she would be finding another orthopedic surgeon. I'm not sure if she knows what went on with me or she's got a dislike for him for another reason, but my mother went off, venting about it.

"He's our family doctor, he did your knee surgeries, he did your brother's surgery, he's helped your father's soldier. And he's a family friend. Not even what kind of a doctor he is, but just what type of a person he is....she should be going to him."

I bit my tongue, didn't even give inaudible head nods or grunts of faked agreement. What could I say? I certainly didn't want to get into this ancient history with her, but I also wasn't going to agree with her that Sally should go to him, or that he was a great person. Ugh.....

Which reminds me, he called me over Thanksgiving. I was in Richmond and the number came up as unrestricted, which is sometimes how my niece's number comes up so I answered. "Ellie, hi....Irv the Perv (well....he really said his full name, of course), how are you?"

I was stunned. I always am when he calls. He has got to have some balls to call me. Of course, I could be tougher and just hang up on him or tell him to fuck off. I'm not sure why I can't do that. I'm not nice to him, but I guess I could be ruder. He asked if I was busy and I said, "yes...on my way out the door."

"Well, I told your mom I would call and say hi."

"Hi...sorry, really have to run."

I hope he eventually gets the point. Seriously, why would he possible want to call me?