My bad day has been swept away thanks to some good old-fashioned cleaning therapy. Nothing like cleaning and tidying to make one feel happy. Not only does it brighten your outlook it also makes your living space look great.
The Olympics begin tonight and I am excited to watch the opening ceremony. Looking forward to watching it all unfold on television as DH and I eat takeout later. I remember how the Vancouver Olympic Games opened just after my miscarriage occurred and the television coverage was a wonderful diversion as I focused on the competitions not on my pain and loss. Looking forward to the swimming, gymnastics, dressage, and other sports.
Must do a bit more tidying up as the in-laws are coming over on Sunday. Should be interesting as DH needs help from FIL to install new kitchen faucet as we must shut off the main water valve for the house. Fingers crossed we can turn the water back on Sunday evening.
Showing posts with label cleaning therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cleaning therapy. Show all posts
Friday, July 27, 2012
Friday, February 19, 2010
Blue
Last week at this time I was physically drained and feeling like a zombie -- and, looking like a vampire due to the blood loss. Today I feel emotionally drained. The tears come at weird moments like watching the winter olympics and thinking I'll never have a little one to take to ski hills, figure skating, or hockey. Much like the overcast skies I feel blue, or maybe I have a case of the "mean reds" like 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'. Retail therapy might be just the cure, but I'm afraid seeing pregnant bellies and baby strollers might induce an emotional breakdown. So, today I'm trying cleaning therapy to brighten my day.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
It's a Negative
Went in for bloodwork a week ago and discovered that the FET was not successful. For some strange reason these embryos did not want to stick around in my uterus...and now I'm beginning to take it personally. What is so wrong with my uterus? Sure, I've only seen it on ultrasound, but it seems like a nice spot to burrow in and stay for nine months. Yes, I'm beginning to get a complex as to why embryos do not want to stick around inside my body.
Emotionally it's been a roller coaster this past week after going off the hormones. I have energy again, which is amazing, but I cry when reading or watching something sentimental or sad. Then I had this obsession with buying a red handbag. Strange, but I had to have a red one and I did find one at Macy's. I'm just now clueing into the fact that perhaps this red bag symbolizes my uterus...maybe I would like a new one that is more welcoming to embryos...hmmmm.
The other emotional thing is that DH found out on Friday that he needs to be in the UK for meetings this upcoming week. He flew out this morning and I'm feeling sad. Sad because he's gone and also because I would have loved to have joined him on this trip. Unfortunately, booking airplane tickets at the last minute means the fares are astronomical, and since we are planning another FET within the next six weeks that means we have no extra cash to spend for airfare. I'm ticked off that we didn't know about it sooner and therefore may have been able to purchase cheaper tickets or been able to use points. It would have been cool to hang in London this week and take my mind off my 'hostile' uterus.
Enough of my pity party. First I'll track DH's flight on flightview.com and then it's time for some housecleaning therapy, because later I have a date with Mad Men season one.
Emotionally it's been a roller coaster this past week after going off the hormones. I have energy again, which is amazing, but I cry when reading or watching something sentimental or sad. Then I had this obsession with buying a red handbag. Strange, but I had to have a red one and I did find one at Macy's. I'm just now clueing into the fact that perhaps this red bag symbolizes my uterus...maybe I would like a new one that is more welcoming to embryos...hmmmm.
The other emotional thing is that DH found out on Friday that he needs to be in the UK for meetings this upcoming week. He flew out this morning and I'm feeling sad. Sad because he's gone and also because I would have loved to have joined him on this trip. Unfortunately, booking airplane tickets at the last minute means the fares are astronomical, and since we are planning another FET within the next six weeks that means we have no extra cash to spend for airfare. I'm ticked off that we didn't know about it sooner and therefore may have been able to purchase cheaper tickets or been able to use points. It would have been cool to hang in London this week and take my mind off my 'hostile' uterus.
Enough of my pity party. First I'll track DH's flight on flightview.com and then it's time for some housecleaning therapy, because later I have a date with Mad Men season one.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Mother Dearest
I should have known better than to have confided in my Mother about our upcoming treatment in January, but she seemed so supportive in previous calls. We actually bonded a bit over my pre-hypertension blood pressure -- as she battles high bp -- and chatted about the dullnes of a low-sodium diet and eating lots of potassium rich foods.
When I spoke with her about going on bcp for the upcoming treatment today she got a bit, well, weird. She started grilling me. Then she asked if this is what we really wanted and if I knew what I was getting myself into. Ummm, yes, Mother, that's why we've sunk tens of thousands of dollars in treatment. (Okay, I didn't actually tell her this, but one would think this would be obvious.) Then she proceeded to tell me that babies cry all the time and you have to get up at night and feed them, and was I ready for that? Jeez, my Mother is treating me like I'm 18 and trying to conceive. Yes, babies cry and wake you up but usually that's for the first four months, right? Plus, I have been waiting to hear a baby cry for six years and I will remind myself of this each time I get the honor of waking up to feed it, that is if I get the chance to have one myself.
After the call I turned to cleaning therapy and got all my frustrations out on the vacuum. Then I went to the gym and now I'm blogging. Starting to feel better, but unfortunately I was reminded that I cannot count on Mother Dearest for any emotional support. She wasn't there for me before and she won't be there for me in the future. I do love her, but unfortunately I cannot count on her. Not sure what disappoints me more, her lack of emotional support or my foolishness in thinking that maybe this time I just might be able to count on it from her.
Now I must prepare myself for the next couple of weeks at home with her this Christmas. Perhaps I should start building up the walls again to protect my feelings and definitely pack the journal.
When I spoke with her about going on bcp for the upcoming treatment today she got a bit, well, weird. She started grilling me. Then she asked if this is what we really wanted and if I knew what I was getting myself into. Ummm, yes, Mother, that's why we've sunk tens of thousands of dollars in treatment. (Okay, I didn't actually tell her this, but one would think this would be obvious.) Then she proceeded to tell me that babies cry all the time and you have to get up at night and feed them, and was I ready for that? Jeez, my Mother is treating me like I'm 18 and trying to conceive. Yes, babies cry and wake you up but usually that's for the first four months, right? Plus, I have been waiting to hear a baby cry for six years and I will remind myself of this each time I get the honor of waking up to feed it, that is if I get the chance to have one myself.
After the call I turned to cleaning therapy and got all my frustrations out on the vacuum. Then I went to the gym and now I'm blogging. Starting to feel better, but unfortunately I was reminded that I cannot count on Mother Dearest for any emotional support. She wasn't there for me before and she won't be there for me in the future. I do love her, but unfortunately I cannot count on her. Not sure what disappoints me more, her lack of emotional support or my foolishness in thinking that maybe this time I just might be able to count on it from her.
Now I must prepare myself for the next couple of weeks at home with her this Christmas. Perhaps I should start building up the walls again to protect my feelings and definitely pack the journal.
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