It's The Simple Things

I woke up this morning, sleep-deprived and surrounded by sickies. (Willa with a vicious cold and Sean with what looks to be the start of a sinus infection.) Glad that neither has gotten ahold of me, I popped out of bed and decided to make the best of this weekend workday. I cleaned up the house, messed around with some sketches for our future dream house (my latest obsession,) ate breakfast and rolled Play-Doh balls with Willa. Then I headed out the door at noon to open the shop on this unexpectedly beautiful, sunny Sunday. On my agenda: shuffle the racks, freshen up the displays, and finish the mess of a rearranging project I started yesterday. And sell, sell, sell, of course. But as I opened the front door, I could hardly believe my ears! The prettiest acoustic music was coming from the restaurant next door. And the warm sunshine and the cool breeze. And the tempting smell of german cuisine and the Christmas decorations lining the street. Oh, I envy the lazy tourists strolling Main today! And then it struck me. How lucky a girl am I? To be my own boss, in the business of fashion, in this perfectly perfect little town. (Not to mention the imperfectly perfect husband and precious tot at home.) Note to self: Next time you are feeling sorry for yourself about all of the hours you work, pressure you're under, and your measly pay - revisit this post, count your blessings, and quit your obnoxious complaining! For today, I've done just that. I've turned off the Christmas tunes on the XM, and am enjoying the sounds of the live music, passing cars, and friendly, slow-paced shoppers. Maybe I'll just sell something while I'm at it.

She's a Tough Cookie, That Willa.

Despite the scowl, Willa was in a great mood last Saturday when she came up to the St. Nikolaus Markt to visit me at the booth and meet St. Nick. She was having the time of her life, running free through the crowds of people, talking up a storm, laughing like I have never seen her do before. But the moment they met, her demeanor turned flat. I wasn't totally surprised by her fear. My mom has a photo of Chris and me with Santa that was taken when I was about Willa's age, and I'm beet red and screaming for my life. But I didn't really expect this particular reaction from her. She didn't resist it. She paid the man behind the camera and walked cautiously toward the brown-bearded stranger. And when I placed her in his lap, she sat perfectly still, eyes fixed somewhere in the space between the photographer and me, and waited for the torture to end. When it did, she bounced right back to her lively old self. I am amazed that this tiny a person can possess such fortitude! Such composure! So much for a good first impression. Oh well, like Sean says, coal is underrated.

I've Missed You, Blog

Since you last heard from me, I've gotten through a busy, yet disappointing month at work and another unsuccessful round of high-tech baby-making. I might have finally cracked under my own pressure, and (fingers-crossed) finally learned to accept that there are certain things I cannot control. (the economy, my fertility, and the occasional public toddler tantrum, etc.) How liberating it is!

For a few months now, Willa has been going to Miss Stacy's house M-W-F. I couldn't be happier with it - Willa is one of four children, aged 6 weeks to 3 years. And for $28 a day, Willa plays, naps, learns, and gets a healthy, homemade lunch. Yes, big city-dwellers, you read it correctly. It's quite a bargain! We went through a period of normal yet almost unbearable separation anxiety (both Willa and I) but we're getting better at the dreaded drop-off. This new daycare routine has dictated my work schedule, and so far it seems like just the right balance. I am cramming more work into less time, with fewer on the payroll. That has been challenging and exhausting, but I'm managing...and that's encouraging. Especially considering that it's my most crucial quarter, we're in a recession, and I'm going through a pretty costly and time-consuming medical process. I now have 3 days each week to devote to Willa, and that makes working through lunch totally worth it. The store looks festive and full of fresh new merchandise and although sales aren't quite up to par, things could certainly be worse. I have taken on more than usual this year with a new marketing scheme, including a customer rewards program, a Junior League show in Abilene, a Christmas sale at the upscale Fort Worth Club, and a local outdoor event last weekend at Marktplatz in freezing temperatures and SNOW! Because desperate times call for desperate measures.

And as I mentioned above, I have been puttering along through this baby-quest and Sean and I just embarked on our third IVF/FET. We transferred a single embryo during Round 2, just as we had carefully planned. But that was a decision I began to regret from the moment the embryologist delivered our thaw report. It had survived, but wasn't expanding very well. We were told that this wasn't necessarily bad news, but it wasn't good either. And there wasn't anything we could do but put it in and hope for the best. Of course it didn't work. So now we're in the middle of Round 3, and our hope for a pregnancy via FET is dwindling right along with our remaining embryos. On the upside, we do still have 3 embryos left. And though we've spent a fortune for them, I am actually enjoying my two (going on three) pairs of fuzzy, non-slip, hospital-issued slippers.

These days when I look at Willa, I am completely amazed that she is here and that just 3 years ago, we were in this same place. But I have to say that as much as I wanted a baby back then, to be a mom, as much as I hurt for it, I didn't truly know what I was missing. That makes it different this time. Having a child doesn't necessarily make it easier to deal with infertility. In some aspects, it may in fact, make it harder. I am finding myself excessively attached to Willa again - the way I was when she was first born - afraid that if I blinked, I might wake up from the dream and she'd be gone. That's one of those scars of infertility I occasionally speak of. And it is a big-time annoyance. So, friends and family: I'm sorry if I seem overprotective or possessive. I can't help it. Imagine how awful I'll be as Willa gets older...Think Cheerleader Murdering Mom??? I must have another child...for Willa's sake!

Kids grow too fast. But I am finding it to be true that every stage is the best stage. Right now, Willa is the cutest, sweetest, funniest! She is so physically and mentally active - bouncing, running, twirling, dancing, pretending, and narrating for us every move that she makes. She talks constantly. She likes to sing her ABC's and Rock-A-Bye-Baby, but she'll try to sing along with anything. She's learned how to swaddle from Miss Stacy and carefully wraps Suzy up in her lovie and sings her to sleep, then tells everyone to "Shhh." The word, "NO" is a new favorite. And all I have to do is give her the look, and she'll say, "I'm sorry." She is so polite with her please's, thank you's, excuse me's and you're welcome's. I sure hope that sticks. I think I almost had her potty trained. But then I got lazy. And it all went down the toilet. I failed again. :-)

Stay tuned, y'all. I'll be posting more photos and stories soon! I mean it this time.

Oktoberfest 2009

Waaaaay back in October, we had a blast at our favorite hometown event, Oktoberfest. Sean and Willa donned their German outfits and we strolled from the house to Market Square for some sausage on a stick and a little oompah. Willa danced her heart out and and made mine melt.

Scratch That...Start Again.

Last week, I took a routine blood test to check my HCG levels and make sure the pregnancy was progressing as it should. Confident that we had successfully crossed the hurdle of implantation, I was not at all prepared for the news the nurse delivered. I had been anxiously awaiting the call and preparing myself for the revelation of a multiple pregnancy. I was equipped to deal with that, but not this. My levels, which are expected to double in those first 48 hours, had only increased 2 points. An embryo had implanted but was not growing. And the pregnancy was failing. I was ordered to stop my meds and told I would miscarry within a few days. I was speechless, heartbroken and scared of what was to come.

I left Sean and Willa behind and headed for a long pre-planned weekend of market in LA. I had tons of appointments and stayed busy with work. And when I wasn't working, I was shopping for winter wear for Willa, which has a way of lifting my spirits. Now I'm back, and I've survived another experience that hasn't killed me, and therefore must have made me a little bit stronger. Certainly.

I had blood work Tuesday, and an ultrasound today, and both confirmed that everything is okay and we can move onto another cycle right away. The beginning of a cycle is the best part - the slate is clean and optimism is high. The process never gets any easier, emotionally. But it does become familiar - and I think I'm back in the mode of living the process. I'm feeling a bit like the infertility veteran - battle-scarred, and a tad bitter, yet adept at a variety of reproductive protocols, well versed in the lingo and closely in tune with my sense of humor. It's not a terrible place to be. For today at least. : )

I'm Pregnant!!!

The Transfer

Last Thursday, we went in for the embryo transfer. Upon admission, I was given a stunning backless gown, hair net, and some fuzzy slippers, and all sorts of instructions as to what we should expect during the procedure and what kinds of activities I should avoid over the next few days (like work, seriously - as if I could avoid that.) I signed a bunch of important papers, popped a Valium, and tried to relax while we anxiously awaited the Embryologist's report on the thaw of our embryo. When she arrived, she was happy to report the good news - the first TWO embryos selected, had thawed successfully and had received excellent ratings. I thought maybe I heard wrong. Until I saw this:

Count 'em. One. Two.

Someone screwed up. Our wishes to conservatively transfer one embryo at a time had been miscommunicated, or perhaps, not communicated at all, and now we were faced with another decision - to select the healthiest looking one and attempt to refreeze the other, or transfer both of them and take a chance of ending up with two babies. My doctor came in after a little while and sat next to me on my bed, apologized for the error, and tried her best explain our options and to ease our concerns. Refreezing would be risky, and the likelihood of twins was still slim. Her recommendation was always to use two, and so we agreed. I asked if this had earned me two Valium - was told "No," but maybe two baby gifts. Sean kept reminding me to stay calm, that his babies would need a peaceful womb.

So, the thing that finally did relax me was the realization of what little control I had. And that if I am blessed with two healthy babies, it was all part of a greater plan. Whoa. And the end of my life as I know it.

The transfer was quick and painless. Implantation occurs, or doesn't, within 36 hours. And the pregnancy test is Saturday. Y'all wish me luck!