This is the time of the year when I am trying to finish up my flexible savings account money. Also, it is time to renew or make changes in my benefits for the next year. At my current company, there is a lot of pressure to join a HSA plan. It is tempting: Funds roll over year after year and you do not have to spend them before December 31 like I am scrambling to do right now. Plus my employer contributes a nice amount per year.
Another selling point is that you may add more tax free money to it, you can even have it invested in something similar to an IRA account, and eventually when you retire you will have some nice savings to count on if you never needed them.
But you know what? That is what 401Ks and IRAs are for. Health insurance is something you pay for so that when you do get sick, you do not have to break the bank. And with a HSA you get to pay very high deductibles when you actually get sick.
Let us assume that I end up in the hospital with kidney stones in January of 2014, just like I did in January of 2011. My brand new HSA account would have no funds yet to cover the extremely high deductible. I know I could set up a reasonable payment plan until my HSA contributions caught up. But there is the catch: the amount of money my employer would contribute to the HSA each year is less than the deductible.
Bottomline? HSA accounts work better for people who join when healthy, and manage to stay healthy for a few years before any major medical emergency. And while I consider myself to be reasonably healthy, I have seen an ER bill up close. Getting away with a $50 dollar co-pay was the only good thing about it.
The spouse wants me to really explore all possibilities before making a decision. And here it comes: One possibility is getting laid off. I survived the initial witch hunt but I am not confident I will still be working here a year from now. And, like I said, HSA accounts work best when you've accumulated a nice cushion over a few years.
While all this needs to be decided, I still have to go on a shopping spree and spend the last of my tax-free FSA dollars. On my shopping list: prescription steroid creams, disposable contact lenses and maybe another pair of prescription eyeglasses. Too bad over-the-counter drugs don't qualify anymore.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Taking care of myself
Not having any kids means I cannot expect anyone to take care of me in my old age. Of course, kids these days don't necessarily take care of their parents, as a friend pointed out, but, oh well. Meanwhile, I want to stay healthy.
My mother and sister have osteoporosis. They both had someone near them who called an ambulance when they had a fracture. I don't ever want to have a fracture, even if I could get some guarantee that I'd be picked up by an ambulance right away. So I had myself checked a few years ago and learned I had osteopenia. I was told I needed to do some weight bearing exercise in order to strengthen my bones and muscles.
I was doing Zumba back then. Not enough, the doctor said. Better than nothing, I thought. I later started doing strength training with machines at the gym, along with some yoga now and then (still having problems with inversions). It's been a year now, doing all those three things, and I feel stronger. Strong enough to try some real weight bearing. And so I joined a class called BodyPump.
Lots of weightlifting there. Good for upper body strength, no? NO. It's my legs and butt that are hurting. Plus sorry, the music sucks. And they play it loud enough that it is difficult to understand whatever it is the instructor is yelling at you. Luckily, when I was doing something really stupid, someone came by and made sure I avoided serious injury.
It am trying to fit this into the "doing nice things for myself" category, but it eludes me. Yoga is calming, Zumba is fun, and even those boring machine exercises allow me to listen to podcasts while I work out. But BodyPump? Pure evil, if you ask me.
Nevertheless, having sore muscles in regions where I did not even know I had a muscle has piqued my curiosity, so of course I'll be back. If my butt stops hurting by next week, that is.
My mother and sister have osteoporosis. They both had someone near them who called an ambulance when they had a fracture. I don't ever want to have a fracture, even if I could get some guarantee that I'd be picked up by an ambulance right away. So I had myself checked a few years ago and learned I had osteopenia. I was told I needed to do some weight bearing exercise in order to strengthen my bones and muscles.
I was doing Zumba back then. Not enough, the doctor said. Better than nothing, I thought. I later started doing strength training with machines at the gym, along with some yoga now and then (still having problems with inversions). It's been a year now, doing all those three things, and I feel stronger. Strong enough to try some real weight bearing. And so I joined a class called BodyPump.
Lots of weightlifting there. Good for upper body strength, no? NO. It's my legs and butt that are hurting. Plus sorry, the music sucks. And they play it loud enough that it is difficult to understand whatever it is the instructor is yelling at you. Luckily, when I was doing something really stupid, someone came by and made sure I avoided serious injury.It am trying to fit this into the "doing nice things for myself" category, but it eludes me. Yoga is calming, Zumba is fun, and even those boring machine exercises allow me to listen to podcasts while I work out. But BodyPump? Pure evil, if you ask me.
Nevertheless, having sore muscles in regions where I did not even know I had a muscle has piqued my curiosity, so of course I'll be back. If my butt stops hurting by next week, that is.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Changes, changes....
I am not good at dealing with changes. My strategy is to hide under the covers and wait until it is over.
So what is this post about? Restructuring. Per wikipedia, "the act of reorganizing the legal, ownership, operational, or other structures of a company for the purpose of making it more profitable, or better organized for its present needs." In practice, it means jobs are lost.
I angrily wave my fist at the fates for letting me accept a job that was bound to be restructured less than a year after I started. I'm still standing, albeit I am now a part-timer. And the Sword of Damocles is still hanging above my head.
It is not a problem from an economic standpoint, but very frustrating career wise. What is my thing? I am not a mother, I am not a career woman. What else is there? On my days off, I scrub and mop and walk the dog and run errands and take the car to service. I go to the gym, I take German classes. I play the piano. I knit. I read. I watch documentaries. I put up with suggestions about going to grad school, volunteering, getting a second job, finding a better one, learning a new hobbie, fostering, adopting, rescuing another dog.
I don't want suggestions. I just want to be able to answer, when I get asked what I do, that I actually do something significant.
So what is this post about? Restructuring. Per wikipedia, "the act of reorganizing the legal, ownership, operational, or other structures of a company for the purpose of making it more profitable, or better organized for its present needs." In practice, it means jobs are lost.
I angrily wave my fist at the fates for letting me accept a job that was bound to be restructured less than a year after I started. I'm still standing, albeit I am now a part-timer. And the Sword of Damocles is still hanging above my head.
It is not a problem from an economic standpoint, but very frustrating career wise. What is my thing? I am not a mother, I am not a career woman. What else is there? On my days off, I scrub and mop and walk the dog and run errands and take the car to service. I go to the gym, I take German classes. I play the piano. I knit. I read. I watch documentaries. I put up with suggestions about going to grad school, volunteering, getting a second job, finding a better one, learning a new hobbie, fostering, adopting, rescuing another dog.
I don't want suggestions. I just want to be able to answer, when I get asked what I do, that I actually do something significant.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Speechless
I was asked if I might want to talk to a couple that had lost their twin babies in their second trimester.
I did not want to talk to them, but I felt I had to. We come from the same country and speak the same language. I wish I had had someone to talk to in my own language when I went through infertility and miscarriage. And so, I went and talked to them. It did not feel good. It was sad and discouraging and overall extremely depressing, but they seemed to be grateful I was there for them, listening, sharing and crying with them.
Unlike me, they are citizens, and are legally allowed to adopt. But they decided to try foster care first. This was before their attempt at IVF that resulted in pregnancy and miscarriage.
Well, foster care did not work out for them. They got a five year old with fetal alcohol syndrome who was extremely violent and difficult to deal with. They were constantly pestered by their three social workers, each with a particular point of view and interests. They found it extremely hard to keep up with the state's expectations on the child's care and what they were actually able to provide with the stipend they were given. They needed a tutor and a babysitter, and the child needed constant appointments with doctors, nutritionists, speech therapists etc, all of them exerting pressure on the couple, setting up goals that were unattainable and making them feel under too much pressure. After a few months, the state decided to give the birth mother yet another chance and the child was taken away from them. In spite of all the problems this child had brought into their lives, their hearts were broken, and they decided never to do it again.
And so, they moved on to IVF.
I did not know what to say. But then, there is nothing you can say that can cheer anyone up after a story like this. At least that much I know.
I did not want to talk to them, but I felt I had to. We come from the same country and speak the same language. I wish I had had someone to talk to in my own language when I went through infertility and miscarriage. And so, I went and talked to them. It did not feel good. It was sad and discouraging and overall extremely depressing, but they seemed to be grateful I was there for them, listening, sharing and crying with them.
Unlike me, they are citizens, and are legally allowed to adopt. But they decided to try foster care first. This was before their attempt at IVF that resulted in pregnancy and miscarriage.
Well, foster care did not work out for them. They got a five year old with fetal alcohol syndrome who was extremely violent and difficult to deal with. They were constantly pestered by their three social workers, each with a particular point of view and interests. They found it extremely hard to keep up with the state's expectations on the child's care and what they were actually able to provide with the stipend they were given. They needed a tutor and a babysitter, and the child needed constant appointments with doctors, nutritionists, speech therapists etc, all of them exerting pressure on the couple, setting up goals that were unattainable and making them feel under too much pressure. After a few months, the state decided to give the birth mother yet another chance and the child was taken away from them. In spite of all the problems this child had brought into their lives, their hearts were broken, and they decided never to do it again.
And so, they moved on to IVF.
I did not know what to say. But then, there is nothing you can say that can cheer anyone up after a story like this. At least that much I know.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
The third miscarriage
I never talked about it. In fact, the only other person that knows is the spouse, and I think he seriously doubts it really happened. Me too, because it was kind of surreal, and that it happened when we were not even trying to get pregnant. I'd been off the pill though, with my period more or less coming once in a while but without me really tracking it. And then it did not come for almost two months, and when it came, it came with a vengeance, that is, with heavy bleeding, some weird membranes and some cramps.
I was numb. I examined the membranes without really wanting to, and then I threw everything in the toilet and decided to go back on the pill. I tried very hard to forget it and not talk about it.
Still, today, with a friend, I talked about my three miscarriages, not my two miscarriages... so I guess deep down I am really counting the incident as a third miscarriage. But does it really count? I guess I will never know. It cannot be good, when something like this happens and you just brush it off and ignore it for months.
I was numb. I examined the membranes without really wanting to, and then I threw everything in the toilet and decided to go back on the pill. I tried very hard to forget it and not talk about it.
Still, today, with a friend, I talked about my three miscarriages, not my two miscarriages... so I guess deep down I am really counting the incident as a third miscarriage. But does it really count? I guess I will never know. It cannot be good, when something like this happens and you just brush it off and ignore it for months.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
A new milestone
Guess who walked into a Babies R' Us today and actually enjoyed her shopping experience? Well, perhaps enjoy is an exaggeration, but at least I did not hate it as much as I expected. I am sooo proud of myself... I bought a layette, a tiny dress and a couple of bibs, one of which is embroidered with two flowery owls and it says: "I love my Aunt".
All these are gifts for my sister in law, whose baby was born today. I am green with envy and crying with relief at the same time. Please note that I did not buy a single gift until the baby was born. This was a scary pregnancy with several ER visits and many months under the equivalent of house arrest, culminating with a C-section. I know a healthy baby is the best gift ever, and all my sister in law was hoping for. Still, knowing how horribly wrong this could have ended, because I've been there myself, I feel that the mother really deserves something special. Any ideas?
All these are gifts for my sister in law, whose baby was born today. I am green with envy and crying with relief at the same time. Please note that I did not buy a single gift until the baby was born. This was a scary pregnancy with several ER visits and many months under the equivalent of house arrest, culminating with a C-section. I know a healthy baby is the best gift ever, and all my sister in law was hoping for. Still, knowing how horribly wrong this could have ended, because I've been there myself, I feel that the mother really deserves something special. Any ideas?
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Not loving myself lately...
People who are never depressed think depression is something you can easily snap out of. As if being depressed were something you were doing to yourself.
Well, I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm exercising, I'm eating well, I keep up with my hobbies... The only part that I'm finding very difficult is having a social life.
I tried to join a knitting group a few months ago, but decided it was not for me. A lot of knitting women are stay at home moms who knit too many baby items. They also talk a lot about their kids.
Did I mention before that I joined a book club? The books we read are good, but half the women in that club never read them, and those that do complain a lot about how horrible, ugly, difficult, boring, disgusting etc. the books are. Then they talk about their kids.
There's one other social activity I actually enjoy much more, since it involves practicing a foreign language in a small group, mostly retired seniors. I showed up today, pretending everything is normal, and someone said: "Oh my God, are you OK? What happened to your face?" I've been trying to ignore the mirror lately, but I guess my eczema is getting really out of control. Then again, it gave me the opportunity to make it clear that it's OK to sit next to me because it is not contagious.
I came home and cried a lot, which only made my eczema worse. But it also made me realize that mothers obsessed with their children don't give a shit about somebody else's face and hands being covered by red, scaly patches. Maybe for now I should stick with women who'd rather talk about their kids, and not about how ugly and disgusting my face looks.
Well, I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing. I'm exercising, I'm eating well, I keep up with my hobbies... The only part that I'm finding very difficult is having a social life.
I tried to join a knitting group a few months ago, but decided it was not for me. A lot of knitting women are stay at home moms who knit too many baby items. They also talk a lot about their kids.
Did I mention before that I joined a book club? The books we read are good, but half the women in that club never read them, and those that do complain a lot about how horrible, ugly, difficult, boring, disgusting etc. the books are. Then they talk about their kids.
There's one other social activity I actually enjoy much more, since it involves practicing a foreign language in a small group, mostly retired seniors. I showed up today, pretending everything is normal, and someone said: "Oh my God, are you OK? What happened to your face?" I've been trying to ignore the mirror lately, but I guess my eczema is getting really out of control. Then again, it gave me the opportunity to make it clear that it's OK to sit next to me because it is not contagious.
I came home and cried a lot, which only made my eczema worse. But it also made me realize that mothers obsessed with their children don't give a shit about somebody else's face and hands being covered by red, scaly patches. Maybe for now I should stick with women who'd rather talk about their kids, and not about how ugly and disgusting my face looks.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
My depressing little corner
Apparently, I don't feel like blogging when all is well, but as soon as stuff starts happening, here I come again. Pitiful, really.
So rather than complain about what is not going well, which is not that significant anyway, let me tell you I've really enjoyed the opera season this year in San Francisco. Additionally, I went to two operas in San Jose, and I even drove to Sonoma to see the Yankee Diva live (which makes it *FIVE* times that I see her live! Woooohooo!) And I can do all these things because I am not saving money for sending any kids to college, and I don't need a baby sitter, and so I have the time and the money to bring beautiful things into my life (or rather, haul my ass to where beauty is happening).
By the way, I've yet to see a fat lady with horns and braids on stage. I just chose that image because I know this is what pops into people's minds when they think about opera. When I saw Die Walküre I got a very modern production, with paratrooper Valkyries descending from above.
This Saturday I'm going to the opera again. It's going to be my third Tosca, and it will also be the third time I get to see Angela Gheorghiu live.
I like Tosca. Opera is full of stupid female characters who let stupid and horrible things happen to them. Horrible things happen to Floria Tosca too, but hey, she's willing to do something about it, fight back, get her hands dirty, kill the bad guy if necessary... oops, spoiler there.
Anyway. I've been thinking that those of us who are childfree not by choice tend to pour ourselves into a hobby, or a craft, or traveling... It's not a substitute for the children we don't have, it's simply happens that there are things we enjoy doing, and we do them because we can. Why not?
So rather than complain about what is not going well, which is not that significant anyway, let me tell you I've really enjoyed the opera season this year in San Francisco. Additionally, I went to two operas in San Jose, and I even drove to Sonoma to see the Yankee Diva live (which makes it *FIVE* times that I see her live! Woooohooo!) And I can do all these things because I am not saving money for sending any kids to college, and I don't need a baby sitter, and so I have the time and the money to bring beautiful things into my life (or rather, haul my ass to where beauty is happening).By the way, I've yet to see a fat lady with horns and braids on stage. I just chose that image because I know this is what pops into people's minds when they think about opera. When I saw Die Walküre I got a very modern production, with paratrooper Valkyries descending from above.
This Saturday I'm going to the opera again. It's going to be my third Tosca, and it will also be the third time I get to see Angela Gheorghiu live.
I like Tosca. Opera is full of stupid female characters who let stupid and horrible things happen to them. Horrible things happen to Floria Tosca too, but hey, she's willing to do something about it, fight back, get her hands dirty, kill the bad guy if necessary... oops, spoiler there.
Anyway. I've been thinking that those of us who are childfree not by choice tend to pour ourselves into a hobby, or a craft, or traveling... It's not a substitute for the children we don't have, it's simply happens that there are things we enjoy doing, and we do them because we can. Why not?
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Over the counter stuff not intended for eczema
It seems that I´ll make it to three years without a manicure, since the eczema patch on my left hand is not going away. I've decided not to gripe too much about it and instead share some of the crazy eczema remedies I sometimes use.
Yes, Carmex, the lip balm intended for cold sores and the like. It calms the itchiness almost right away, better than many over the counter itch remedies. One problem I have with anti-itch gels and creams is that, if the skin is broken, they cause a horrible burning sensation. And my eczema patches crack easily, even without scratching them. The skin is so dry that it feels almost like cardboard. Carmex takes away the itch without any unpleasant burning first. The only con is that it is extremely greasy. So applying that stuff on my hands means leaving greasy fingerprints everywhere. But when I can't stand the itch, having greasy fingers is a minor disadvantage.
Monistat anti-chafing gel is a good alternative for lubricating the skin without leaving it all greasy. I like to wear it under my latex gloves at work so I don't get any further irritation. At first I worried that I might be causing even more dryness, because this really feels powdery, but after more than a year of using it under my gloves my only regret is the Monistat name. Keeping this in my drawer raises a few eyebrows. Also, it is not easy to find. Mostly it is sold next the yeast infection treatments but I also found it once next to shaving needs. Sometimes it is not stocked at all and I fear for its disappearance. Luckily, I've been always able to find it in amazon.
Finally, here's a remedy that I like to apply when the skin is very dry and has started to crack. Once it is open, anything I apply to it is very painful. But this ultrapure lanolin does not cause any pain. I apply it at night right after witch hazel extract, put on a cotton glove, and when I wake up, the skin is much more flexible and feels less dry. I wish I could apply it during the day, but if Carmex is greasy, this is equivalent to lard. Sometimes I come in contact with a new soap or a new household cleaner that causes an unbearable burning sensation. I like dunking my hand in ice water when it happens, but I apply my corticoid cream first followed by lanolin to keep the cream from dissolving into the water. My only issue with this remedy is that it is found among breastfeeding aids. This means I have to go through aisles of baby products in order to find it. Never a pleasant experience, but I don't have to do it very often.
Yes, Carmex, the lip balm intended for cold sores and the like. It calms the itchiness almost right away, better than many over the counter itch remedies. One problem I have with anti-itch gels and creams is that, if the skin is broken, they cause a horrible burning sensation. And my eczema patches crack easily, even without scratching them. The skin is so dry that it feels almost like cardboard. Carmex takes away the itch without any unpleasant burning first. The only con is that it is extremely greasy. So applying that stuff on my hands means leaving greasy fingerprints everywhere. But when I can't stand the itch, having greasy fingers is a minor disadvantage.
Monistat anti-chafing gel is a good alternative for lubricating the skin without leaving it all greasy. I like to wear it under my latex gloves at work so I don't get any further irritation. At first I worried that I might be causing even more dryness, because this really feels powdery, but after more than a year of using it under my gloves my only regret is the Monistat name. Keeping this in my drawer raises a few eyebrows. Also, it is not easy to find. Mostly it is sold next the yeast infection treatments but I also found it once next to shaving needs. Sometimes it is not stocked at all and I fear for its disappearance. Luckily, I've been always able to find it in amazon.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
The visitors
Lately life just does not want to be blogged. And so a whole month went by with no posts.
Not that there weren't things going on. A couple of operas, a few movies, a couple of concerts. Plus lots of things to learn in the new job.
Last week something worth blogging did happen: I was visited by the Little Beast (5 yrs old) and Mr. Octopus (2 yrs old). They and their parents stayed with us for four days.
It was better than I expected, given their nicknames (I did not come up with those). In fact, we had lots of fun, with not a single incident regarding vomiting, food spilling or breaking any valuables. The yellow dog was stressed out for about 5 minutes, and then moved on to happily play with the little guys, who were great with following instructions on how to interact and play with her.
They left last Sunday and the sense of vacuum was unbearable. Even worse, I had once more the urgency to fill up that vacuum and start shooting artificial hormones again. To say I was depressed is an understatement.
I am better now. The fact that I am still washing sheets and putting stuff back where it belongs helps me realize that it's nice to clean only after myself, the spouse and the yellow dog. If I had a couple of kids I would not be enjoying a Netflix movie with a beer in my hand at 9:30 on a weekday, with a mountain of clean laundry in the middle of the guest room, still waiting to be folded and put away.
Not that there weren't things going on. A couple of operas, a few movies, a couple of concerts. Plus lots of things to learn in the new job.
Last week something worth blogging did happen: I was visited by the Little Beast (5 yrs old) and Mr. Octopus (2 yrs old). They and their parents stayed with us for four days.
It was better than I expected, given their nicknames (I did not come up with those). In fact, we had lots of fun, with not a single incident regarding vomiting, food spilling or breaking any valuables. The yellow dog was stressed out for about 5 minutes, and then moved on to happily play with the little guys, who were great with following instructions on how to interact and play with her.
They left last Sunday and the sense of vacuum was unbearable. Even worse, I had once more the urgency to fill up that vacuum and start shooting artificial hormones again. To say I was depressed is an understatement.
I am better now. The fact that I am still washing sheets and putting stuff back where it belongs helps me realize that it's nice to clean only after myself, the spouse and the yellow dog. If I had a couple of kids I would not be enjoying a Netflix movie with a beer in my hand at 9:30 on a weekday, with a mountain of clean laundry in the middle of the guest room, still waiting to be folded and put away.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
The non-mom at the workplace
A new job means signing up for new benefits. I will not be enjoying many of them, like discount tickets to kiddie stuff, discounts for daycare, the possibility of adding children to my medical insurance, money towards IVF, money towards adoption... wait, that one is still a possibility, right?
It's OK. Nothing is being taken away from me. Reading about it brings me some sadness, but that's nobody's fault.
What I can't stand, though, is the assumption that I can take just any shift or work overtime on a short notice. They can't really ask if I have kids or not, but they have probably guessed by now that I don't. I had to hear how X, Y and Z have flexible schedules in spite of them being parents of young kids... Well good for them. It still does not mean that I have to be as flexible as they are. Why does that make me feel selfish?
I've been there before, putting up with students who never left the lab on time because they had not finished their work. I had to stay late and deal with their rudeness and clean up after them, while my co-worker left on time because she had to pick up her kid from daycare. Nobody cared if I had tickets to the opera or plans for dinner. And I was never paid for overtime.
Anyway. My schedule is weird but I'll survive. And if the need arises, I hope they don't pressure me too much into volunteering for extra work. At least here I am guaranteed overtime pay.
It's OK. Nothing is being taken away from me. Reading about it brings me some sadness, but that's nobody's fault.
What I can't stand, though, is the assumption that I can take just any shift or work overtime on a short notice. They can't really ask if I have kids or not, but they have probably guessed by now that I don't. I had to hear how X, Y and Z have flexible schedules in spite of them being parents of young kids... Well good for them. It still does not mean that I have to be as flexible as they are. Why does that make me feel selfish?
I've been there before, putting up with students who never left the lab on time because they had not finished their work. I had to stay late and deal with their rudeness and clean up after them, while my co-worker left on time because she had to pick up her kid from daycare. Nobody cared if I had tickets to the opera or plans for dinner. And I was never paid for overtime.
Anyway. My schedule is weird but I'll survive. And if the need arises, I hope they don't pressure me too much into volunteering for extra work. At least here I am guaranteed overtime pay.
Monday, June 4, 2012
PCOS decal
I did not know they made them.
They look like this:
Why would anyone put this on their cars? To spread awareness, sure, or maybe to avoid explaining their own weight or acne issues. Me, I prefer to avoid thinking about all those issues, and I'd hate to be reminded of them each time I approached my car.
They look like this:
Why would anyone put this on their cars? To spread awareness, sure, or maybe to avoid explaining their own weight or acne issues. Me, I prefer to avoid thinking about all those issues, and I'd hate to be reminded of them each time I approached my car.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Breakfast
For a couple of months now, the spouse and I have been having smoothies for breakfast.
I used to do this everyday, back when I was stuffing myself with pineapple because it was supposedly helpful for implantation. Is that a myth? Anyway, my pineapple smoothie was always too bitter for the spouse, given that it was unsweetened. He preferred to fill up with starch and sugar for breakfast, especially knowing that there are never any carbs for dinner.
But the spouse picked up the smoothie vibe recently, as long as it includes oranges and any kind of berry. And I followed along, adding celery, almonds, flaxseed, chia, hemp protein or whatever I find to add all the protein and fiber I need. The berries and oranges make it palatable enough, and if there are no oranges, orange juice is just as good.
Taking the pineapple out of the equation has brought us together for breakfast. I count that as yet another positive consequence of not trying anymore.
I used to do this everyday, back when I was stuffing myself with pineapple because it was supposedly helpful for implantation. Is that a myth? Anyway, my pineapple smoothie was always too bitter for the spouse, given that it was unsweetened. He preferred to fill up with starch and sugar for breakfast, especially knowing that there are never any carbs for dinner.
But the spouse picked up the smoothie vibe recently, as long as it includes oranges and any kind of berry. And I followed along, adding celery, almonds, flaxseed, chia, hemp protein or whatever I find to add all the protein and fiber I need. The berries and oranges make it palatable enough, and if there are no oranges, orange juice is just as good.
Taking the pineapple out of the equation has brought us together for breakfast. I count that as yet another positive consequence of not trying anymore.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
More gratuitous Schadenfreude
This time around I don't feel so bad, because the object of my Schadenfreude is a total stranger. I had coffee recently with a friend, one of my former co-workers from the job I quit two years ago. I never regretted that decision, but it must be said that by the time I left, my supervisor had decided to cut my load. The person who was hired in my stead had it sooooo much easier... until now, that is. Another worker was fired, things have been rearranged and the load on that position is almost as bad as when I left. So as much as I pity the person who has to perform miracles in just 40 hours per week, I feel quite smug about having left.
Meanwhile, I am leaving my current job. It's been almost a year and a half and I was still under contract, feeling much like a horse with a carrot tied to its head. So I'm happy I'm leaving, even if it makes me look like a person who keeps changing jobs. I just wanted a job with benefits, like paid vacation, a 401 K and health insurance. By the way, the new job's insurance covers IVF. So nice of them, but no thanks!
For the first time in almost 10 years I am starting a new job without any pregnancy worries. You know what I'm talking about: When you're just married (and you don't know you're infertile) you worry you'll get pregnant right after you start working, even if you're not trying to, and look like an idiot. And later, when you are doing ART but you don't want people to know at work, its hard to explain all those doctor visits, and deal with all the side effects while staying functional.
This topic still causes a little tension with the spouse, but otherwise the fact that we are not trying to get pregnant anymore gives me a sense of peace and freedom... the freedom to commit to a schedule and not have to worry about cycling, checking my ovaries, mood swings, bloating, swollen legs... And more importantly, no more heartbreaking.
Meanwhile, I am leaving my current job. It's been almost a year and a half and I was still under contract, feeling much like a horse with a carrot tied to its head. So I'm happy I'm leaving, even if it makes me look like a person who keeps changing jobs. I just wanted a job with benefits, like paid vacation, a 401 K and health insurance. By the way, the new job's insurance covers IVF. So nice of them, but no thanks!
For the first time in almost 10 years I am starting a new job without any pregnancy worries. You know what I'm talking about: When you're just married (and you don't know you're infertile) you worry you'll get pregnant right after you start working, even if you're not trying to, and look like an idiot. And later, when you are doing ART but you don't want people to know at work, its hard to explain all those doctor visits, and deal with all the side effects while staying functional.
This topic still causes a little tension with the spouse, but otherwise the fact that we are not trying to get pregnant anymore gives me a sense of peace and freedom... the freedom to commit to a schedule and not have to worry about cycling, checking my ovaries, mood swings, bloating, swollen legs... And more importantly, no more heartbreaking.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Another woman's sorrow...
Right now my friend K is going through a divorce. We all saw it coming, even before she got married, except her. She's not prepared for this, while her husband is well stocked with expensive lawyers and a list of complaints and accusations, all of them based on an exaggeration of reality, while she aimed from the beginning towards a "friendly" divorce... Is there such a thing?
The kid's at risk of ending up with a chauvinistic father who will teach him to hate all women, especially his own mother, and treat them all as dogs. With the added irony of my friend paying for child support.
I know my friend needs me, but I am spent. No matter what I say, I don't understand. I'm not a mother. I did not end up with a lunatic incapable of any empathy, and I don't have to send money back home to my parents or to a sick sibling, I don't have to pay for daycare and a separate rent after moving out from an abusive household, and on top of that find a way to pay for expensive lawyers. I've no idea what she needs from me at this point, except listening and saying how sorry I am.
And deep inside me, a perverse voice tells me to cheer up because at least I was spared all those horrors.
I feel terrible.
The kid's at risk of ending up with a chauvinistic father who will teach him to hate all women, especially his own mother, and treat them all as dogs. With the added irony of my friend paying for child support.
I know my friend needs me, but I am spent. No matter what I say, I don't understand. I'm not a mother. I did not end up with a lunatic incapable of any empathy, and I don't have to send money back home to my parents or to a sick sibling, I don't have to pay for daycare and a separate rent after moving out from an abusive household, and on top of that find a way to pay for expensive lawyers. I've no idea what she needs from me at this point, except listening and saying how sorry I am.
And deep inside me, a perverse voice tells me to cheer up because at least I was spared all those horrors.
I feel terrible.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Ack. It's that day again.
Found on facebook:
Mother's Day according to Louis C.K.: "To me, you're not a woman til you had a couple of kids and your life is in the toilet. That's really when you become a woman, when people come out of your vagina and step on your dreams."
Far be it for me to complain then, about dead people coming out of my vagina and ending up in the toilet, thus shattering my dreams.
Mother's Day according to Louis C.K.: "To me, you're not a woman til you had a couple of kids and your life is in the toilet. That's really when you become a woman, when people come out of your vagina and step on your dreams."
Far be it for me to complain then, about dead people coming out of my vagina and ending up in the toilet, thus shattering my dreams.
Monday, March 19, 2012
You can't make this up
I work in analytical chemistry. I needed some information on a Passing Bablok regression and did a Google search. I got as far as "passing bab..." when I noticed that Google's helpful pull down menu included a "passing bablock regression excel" search term, and I clicked on it. Well, I thought I'd clicked on it, but in reality I clicked by mistake on the listing right underneath it. And the very first search result was, of course, someone asking how you can tell if you're passing the baby or just a bunch of blood clots.
And so I cried at work once more. Not too much, hardly anyone noticed, I think.
This stupid incident reminded me that:
a) I'm still very sensitive to the topic.
b) I used to have a blog where I whined about these things.
It's been a hard month. Even if it included the joy of meeting with very dear friends and family members, it also included the anniversaries of my two losses. It's been also a time of transitions and new challenges at work. The slow process of tapering off my antidepressant dose is not helping. I have not contacted Dr. Careful at all. I guess have no clue what I am going to tell her because really, I'd rather not go through another cycle.
For the same reason I find it hard to write about infertility. If I hate it so much, why am I so unwilling to do something about it?
Sunday, February 12, 2012
The other shoe dropped
Back in October, the spouse and I decided to try one more time for another FSH- IUI cycle. Not that I have any hopes that it'll work, it is simply that it might bring him closure. We were supposed to do it after our guests left, which happened early in January. I did not bring it up, he did not bring it up, I kept on taking my birth control pills and my antidepressant.
I was hoping he'd have forgotten about it. I don't feel like going through all that trouble again, especially knowing it will not work. Heck, I think I am even more afraid that it will work and I will end up having another miscarriage. But I agreed to do it, so now that he finally brought it up I feel that I have to.
The interesting thing is, he had not mentioned it because he obviously perceived my reluctance. But the fact that he finally did means that, as much as he does not want to hurt my feelings, he feels this is important. Why, I've no idea. He's said a thousand times that he would not mind not having kids, and that has been one of his many reasons not to adopt.
At least he did not mention IVF. I'm not going there. Not now, at 42. I know my chances are higher with IVF but frankly, still pretty low.
Anyway, I am going to spend one week back home, so we cannot do anything until I am back. (He's not coming, he does not want to waste his vacation with my friends and family). I'll start tapering myself from the antidepressant and consult with Dr. Careful about the birth control pills.
She sent me an email, once. I wonder if she'll reply if I send her an email? I hope so.
I was hoping he'd have forgotten about it. I don't feel like going through all that trouble again, especially knowing it will not work. Heck, I think I am even more afraid that it will work and I will end up having another miscarriage. But I agreed to do it, so now that he finally brought it up I feel that I have to.
The interesting thing is, he had not mentioned it because he obviously perceived my reluctance. But the fact that he finally did means that, as much as he does not want to hurt my feelings, he feels this is important. Why, I've no idea. He's said a thousand times that he would not mind not having kids, and that has been one of his many reasons not to adopt.
At least he did not mention IVF. I'm not going there. Not now, at 42. I know my chances are higher with IVF but frankly, still pretty low.
Anyway, I am going to spend one week back home, so we cannot do anything until I am back. (He's not coming, he does not want to waste his vacation with my friends and family). I'll start tapering myself from the antidepressant and consult with Dr. Careful about the birth control pills.
She sent me an email, once. I wonder if she'll reply if I send her an email? I hope so.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Sorrow
I hate the news. Somehow I managed to not find out about the stupid guy who killed his kids and himself in Washington State. But today I tried to catch up with what has happened during the week and BAM!, there it was. Horrible news, full of heartbreaking and infuriating details.
Whenever I read stuff like this, I remember my mother's words when she heard about my first miscarriage: "It was God's will".
To this day, these words haunt me when I hear these stories. Is this God's will too? is it?
I'm not an atheist, but being one might make things easier.
Whenever I read stuff like this, I remember my mother's words when she heard about my first miscarriage: "It was God's will".
To this day, these words haunt me when I hear these stories. Is this God's will too? is it?
I'm not an atheist, but being one might make things easier.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
On marriage and hobbies
I met again with my faraway friend. I'm very lucky that she keeps coming to the Bay Area. She's even planning to return! I hope she does. This time, another friend we have in common also had dinner with us. It was difficult to schedule because, in addition to being a mother, she works full time.
A lot of our conversation revolved around marriage. We all got married at different ages, under different circumstances, but we all agree that marriage requires a lot of work on both sides to keep it going. At some point, the one who is actually a mother said it was kind of miraculous that the spouse and I are still together after all we've been through.
What can I say? I married a chess player. He's used to losing battles and moving onto the next one. Me? I am a knitter. When a project is not turning out as planned, I rip it down and start again.
Is that what keeps us going?
A lot of our conversation revolved around marriage. We all got married at different ages, under different circumstances, but we all agree that marriage requires a lot of work on both sides to keep it going. At some point, the one who is actually a mother said it was kind of miraculous that the spouse and I are still together after all we've been through.
What can I say? I married a chess player. He's used to losing battles and moving onto the next one. Me? I am a knitter. When a project is not turning out as planned, I rip it down and start again.
Is that what keeps us going?
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