Aunt Flo is about a month overdue. Usually I dread the monthly visits, but now I long for the arrival.
I tried a home pregnancy test two weeks ago (ok, I was really optimistic for a week before that) and it was a big fat negative. Then I began noticing these strange hot flashes that would randomly occur during the day and some nights I would wake up in a sweat. I mentioned this to my acupuncturist and she advised me to make an appointment with my doctor as it might be a change in hormones. Oh, boy.
A week ago today I went to my doctor and told her my story; the whole story of the embryo transfers and the pregnancy losses -- that's when I had a mini meltdown and shed a couple of tears. She asked if we were going to continue with the fertility treatment and I said that was it. I told her we are looking into adoption and she was really supportive. She also told me that she has helped five of her patients adopt. Guess I never thought about doctors acting as liaison between patients want to adopt and patients who want to give up their baby for adoption. I must remember this when we move back to Canada.
She told me she wanted bloodwork drawn to see if I might be pregnant or if my hormones are crazy, and if I might be going into early menopause. Yikes. I replied that if I was going into early menopause then I wanted hormone replacement. So, I got the bloodwork drawn and the results came back: my estrogen is low and my FSH is 53! Agggh! I'm only 41! Yes, I am in early menopause. Oh, boy. Luckily I had an appointment for acupuncture later that day and that calmed me down. My acupuncturist pointed out through my tears that at least I have taken action and I am doing something about it.
I made an appointment with a gynecologist (who my doctor referred me to) for this Thursday. Hopefully she will tell me all about early menopause and hormone replacement therapy because I am freaked out about the negative impact of low estrogen on my body. So, I guess this may be good bye for Aunt Flo and me.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Unwanted Advice
This morning I went to get the hair refreshed with more highlights and a cut. My stylist is an amazing colorist, her cutting and styling are okay, but her advice and comments on my life are unwanted.
While I was sitting in the chair with foil sprouting out of my head like a giant sprocket, I told her about DH and I moving back to Canada and the house we just bought (thought I'd warn her that I won't be a client in a few months). She didn't understand why we bought a four bedroom house and I explained that three bedroom homes are difficult to find in the neighborhood we looked at (her English is not the best). I decided to mention that we're thinking about adopting and that is one of our reasons for moving back to Canada. Then she gave me a quizzical look and asked, "You want to adopt? Really? How old are you?" Gulp. I told her my age (41), and she told me I was too old to adopt (gee, as if I hadn't already thought of that) and that I wouldn't want a child when I should be thinking of retirement (gee, how supportive!). I was speechless and I bit my tongue...then I asked her how old she was when she had her youngest: 39. It was then that I realized that she was transferring some of her feelings about having a teenager, and thinking about retirement, onto myself and my situation.
The rest of my time in the chair was quiet because I really did not want to hear anymore of her unwanted advice. Just because someone gives you advice does not mean that you must believe it, or follow it. I think I'll follow my own path and that suits me just fine.
While I was sitting in the chair with foil sprouting out of my head like a giant sprocket, I told her about DH and I moving back to Canada and the house we just bought (thought I'd warn her that I won't be a client in a few months). She didn't understand why we bought a four bedroom house and I explained that three bedroom homes are difficult to find in the neighborhood we looked at (her English is not the best). I decided to mention that we're thinking about adopting and that is one of our reasons for moving back to Canada. Then she gave me a quizzical look and asked, "You want to adopt? Really? How old are you?" Gulp. I told her my age (41), and she told me I was too old to adopt (gee, as if I hadn't already thought of that) and that I wouldn't want a child when I should be thinking of retirement (gee, how supportive!). I was speechless and I bit my tongue...then I asked her how old she was when she had her youngest: 39. It was then that I realized that she was transferring some of her feelings about having a teenager, and thinking about retirement, onto myself and my situation.
The rest of my time in the chair was quiet because I really did not want to hear anymore of her unwanted advice. Just because someone gives you advice does not mean that you must believe it, or follow it. I think I'll follow my own path and that suits me just fine.
Monday, August 2, 2010
Back Home
We landed back home last Monday and it has taken me a week to rest from those ten days away. The first weekend away was crazy as we saw about 16 houses in two days. I met an old friend for dinner that first Saturday night and chilled out over a Tom Collins while catching up with gossip. She happens to be single and childfree at the moment, although I tried my best to set her up with DH's good friend as they met us after dinner for drinks. No luck.
By the end of Sunday afternoon we had seen homes in a funky neighborhood close to downtown where we had both lived separately and together, and in the suburb where he had bought our first home together. We were torn between a suburban home and a semi-detached house close to downtown, so we decided to check out the open house at the semi we had seen Saturday. When we arrived the realtor told us it had been conditionally sold the day before. Our decision had been made for us.
We made an offer the next night on the suburban place, and after some back and forth, they accepted the negotiated offer. It's a typical four bedroom house built in the late 90s, with a bonus loft over the garage. DH was ecstatic to discover the homeowners want to leave us their pool table that's situated in the loft -- me, not so much, but it makes him happy. For me, it was the only house we saw that felt like home. The backyard is small but private thanks to hedges and trees, and there's an oak tree in the front (DH's favourite). It's on a quiet crescent in a great neighborhood, where we had initially wanted to buy eight years ago but there had been no homes for sale at the time. The best part is that it's a ten minute walk away from my sister and her family. I've already told my niece and nephew they can come over for lunch, or drop in after school, as it's close to their school thanks to a path through a little park.
The closing date is September 30, which is around the time the baby would have been due. I totally forgot about that when we were picking dates, but then it hit me several days afterward when I was reading 'Firefly Lane' by Kristin Hannah. It's a light read and I was blindsided by a character's sudden miscarriage with major blood loss, and I had a mini-meltdown. All the sad, painful memories came flooding back. I then thought about how far along I would be have been in July and when the baby would be due in early October.
Instead of giving birth to a baby I will be giving birth to a four bedroom, three bath home. Instead of buying a crib, stroller, baby-stuff we will be buying appliances, paint, tile for the laundry room, and harwood flooring for upstairs. I will anxiously await the workmen to install hardwood on the staircase, while each night I will be exhausted from painting and decorating instead of feedings and changing diapers. Now I am glad the closing is around the due date because we will be busy starting this new exciting phase in our married life. A new beginning.
By the end of Sunday afternoon we had seen homes in a funky neighborhood close to downtown where we had both lived separately and together, and in the suburb where he had bought our first home together. We were torn between a suburban home and a semi-detached house close to downtown, so we decided to check out the open house at the semi we had seen Saturday. When we arrived the realtor told us it had been conditionally sold the day before. Our decision had been made for us.
We made an offer the next night on the suburban place, and after some back and forth, they accepted the negotiated offer. It's a typical four bedroom house built in the late 90s, with a bonus loft over the garage. DH was ecstatic to discover the homeowners want to leave us their pool table that's situated in the loft -- me, not so much, but it makes him happy. For me, it was the only house we saw that felt like home. The backyard is small but private thanks to hedges and trees, and there's an oak tree in the front (DH's favourite). It's on a quiet crescent in a great neighborhood, where we had initially wanted to buy eight years ago but there had been no homes for sale at the time. The best part is that it's a ten minute walk away from my sister and her family. I've already told my niece and nephew they can come over for lunch, or drop in after school, as it's close to their school thanks to a path through a little park.
The closing date is September 30, which is around the time the baby would have been due. I totally forgot about that when we were picking dates, but then it hit me several days afterward when I was reading 'Firefly Lane' by Kristin Hannah. It's a light read and I was blindsided by a character's sudden miscarriage with major blood loss, and I had a mini-meltdown. All the sad, painful memories came flooding back. I then thought about how far along I would be have been in July and when the baby would be due in early October.
Instead of giving birth to a baby I will be giving birth to a four bedroom, three bath home. Instead of buying a crib, stroller, baby-stuff we will be buying appliances, paint, tile for the laundry room, and harwood flooring for upstairs. I will anxiously await the workmen to install hardwood on the staircase, while each night I will be exhausted from painting and decorating instead of feedings and changing diapers. Now I am glad the closing is around the due date because we will be busy starting this new exciting phase in our married life. A new beginning.
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