SOCKS!!!

I received a package two days ago and had ~no~ idea what it could have been. I certainly didn't order anything (it sucks being broke). I brought it into the living room and opened it like I was opening a christmas present.

As soon as I opened it, I realized it ~was~ Christmas! yay!!!



Yes. It was Sock It To Me time! And the wonderful Miss Susy was my secret bloggy buddy who was in charge of sending me socks.

I've been reading her blog for eeons, so I was excited when I saw her name. And plus, me knowing her meant she knew me, so I'd get me some awesome socks. And I did. Actually, I got THREE pairs of socks! And they all signified something.

This first picture shows the two I'm not wearing right now. The bear socks represent my "mama bear" status. The winky skull ones is because although I'm punk rock, I'm a secret girly-girl too (she is SO right!)




And this picture shows the ones I am wearing right now. BAD ASS, eh? I love love love how there is an arrow pointed upwards. I'm ~so~ going to rock these socks with a pair of shorts as soon as summer comes. You better believe it!




So THANK YOU Susy. You rocked out picking me out some bad ass socks and I love them all. You fucking RULE!

And thank you Kym for being the awesome girl that you are and put together SITM every year. This is my 2nd year participating and I've enjoyed it each time.

My sock partner, Mrs. Gamgee got a lame partner in myself as I totally forgot about SITM this year until I got my package from Susy. Although I immediately got on my favorite sock website and picked out three pairs, the fact remains that I'm still late. I shot off an email to her asap and hopefully she won't hold it against me when she gets her awesome socks I picked out for her. :)

Boobies!

I really don't have anything to talk about regarding boobies, but I couldn't think of good title. ~wink~

(psst ... there is a video of karl's first steps over at my other blog!)

I'm still in the first steps of figuring out my insurance options. I've sent a letter requesting the specific reason for being denied. After that, I have to get my psychiatrist involved in writing a letter that I am "stable" and for how long. That should help.

I asked about the suicide rider, and my representative said that would be impossible due to under federal law, after 12 months, it's a covered condition. He went into a lot of explanation works and it makes sense, but it's just too much to go over now. It's all due to people covering their asses in all ways - it's lame. It'd be so much easier if we could just do a rider.

I got my very first week of unemployment. Yippee! We really needed this money. My stress levels have decreased so very much. ~whew~. We'll still be on a tight budget, but we have a little over $400 a week to breathe now. Woohoo for unemployment benefits!

Speaking of unemployment, I'm really starting to think nursing school ~will~ be my new option. I'm going to go through the steps to get accepted for Fall semester now. I'm pretty excited about my future.

Speaking of future (how do you like my way of jumping into new subjects?), I wanted to say a big bloggy congratulations to a friend (who hasn't updated her blog yet, so I can't give it away!) for her BFP! Yay!

~Un-Insurable~

I am livid. ~~

I applies for life insurance awhile ago and went through all the steps in getting it underwritten. My insurance agent just called to tell my application has been denied specifically due to what was written in the report from my psychiatrist.

My life insurance agent didn't know the specifics due to privacy issues, but said he's only seen this a handful of times in his career, usually due to something serious, like someone being suicidal. Um, last time I looked, I wasn't suicidal. What in the world could she have said? I was diagnosed with "generalized depression" which is NOT a reason to be denied life insurance (per him).

Something has gotten to be wrong. She must have gotten me confused with someone or just made up some crazy shit. Heh. No pun intended, but it made me laugh. I've left a message with her office to call me back, so hopefully I'll get a call back today or early tomorrow.

At least this is able to be argued. He said he'll call me back with the number to the underwriting department so I can request the exact reason for my denial. I'll get to the bottom of this, but until then, I'm simply stuck with being pissed off.

If everything is on the up and up and I was denied for depression, I think something is really screwed up with the world. I thought depression was one of those things someone shouldn't be embarrassed of and now I'm feeling like it's something I should have tried to hide. I thought it was one of those things that are being more publicly accepted. I know I shouldn't be ashamed, but a situation like this has made me feel like it.

Grrrr. I was so open with the application process and now this. Next thing I'm going to be told is infertility is another reason for denial. Lame.

Laundry

I just don't see how it's possible to have so much laundry. My mother had 5 children and did the laundry once a week. I do a load or two everyday and I never seem to be ~done~.

How do you keep up with your laundry?

Maybe I'm just inept at watching movies.

I watch movies weird. I already know I'm a tad strange in watching the ends of movies, but today, I was thinking of the other things that may be considered "weird".

~ I always try to spot mistakes. Like watching a clock in the background to see if the time remains consistent. Or the amount of liquid in a cup. Or if some one's clothes are wet, they remain the same amount of wet throughout the shots. You know the movie "journey to the center of the earth?" It's hot and they guy's shirt is wet with sweat. But the sweat stain is constantly changing. This is how I watch movies. I don't watch the actors speak - I constantly scan for errors. And I find many, many, many of them.

~ Luggage. Luggage in movies piss me off because they are ALWAYS empty. You can tell when people are carrying empty luggage. And I swear, no one ever puts anything IN them, unless of course, they are opening/closing/packing them. Other than that, they just carry them empty.

~ Women always wake up in bed with perfect make up and hair. Sometimes it a bit tousled, but it's not the way I look when I wake up!

~ Background extras. In scenes in malls, airports, the street, I watch the extras. And I can usually spot the same person walking back and forth. Or the same extra in different scenes. The movie with Arnold Schwarzenegger Total Recall. There is a guy who walks by in the background multiple times in every scene with extras. He must be doing the producer.

~ Stunt doubles. I am constantly stopping and clicking back in a movie to look to see how badly the stunt guy/girl doubles as the actor. Hint to movie producers - The same outfit and a wig does not a double make! It's always worse when it's a stunt guy/girl doubling as a kid. It's hilarious how they try to make an adult look like the kid. Hilarious.

~ This isn't a movie, but has anyone seen the kid show "Bear in the Big Blue House"? We don't watch it anymore, but when the girls were little, they sometimes watched it. And the bear drove me absolutely nutty over one teeny aspect - his right arm. Okay, this may be a bit hard to describe. The bear is like 7 feet tall, so the actor inside the bear suit must use his right arm to operate the head/face somehow. His left arm is inside Bear's left arm, so that's normal. But since the actor does not have three arms, the right arm is fixed in place. And that lack of movement drives me nuts. It's quite annoying. Take a look next time you see the show on and you'll see what I mean.

~ CSI. Can anyone turn on a freaking light? Please? You'd think as crime scene investigators they would want to be able to see and find everything possible. Yet they continue to do everything in the dark.

~ Speaking of lights, I also notice how a candle or a lamp or a flashlight can suddenly illuminate an entire room. Movie sets must use 5,000 watt light bulbs. Except CSI of course.

And here is where I start to get schnarky ...

~ My worst pet peeve in the movie theatre is people who eat candy and constantly scrunch the cellophane wrapper. Seriously, can you please pour some in your hand or take off the fucking wrapper? You don't have to eat them one by one.

~ Another pet peeve in a movie theatre is people who think texting (or just looking at their phone) during a movie is okay. That light is fucking annoying. The theatre is dark for a reason. You know how if you get up in the middle of the night to go pee or whatever and if you turn on a light, it fucking blinds you (and it's why I pee in the dark)? Yeah - same thing with your phone. It's overly bright and it's damned rude.

(Crunching on popcorn or sipping a drink or getting up to go to the bathroom or laughing overly loud - I can deal with that all. It's all normal things. But talking over a whisper, candy wrapper scrunching and cell phone usage is overly annoying. Don't these people care about anyone else but themselves?)

Anywho - that's my list. Is anyone else like me? Or do I just watch movies differently than the entire rest of the world?

I'm still alive.

I don't know where my motivation for blogging went. It's not like I don't have the time - as an unemployed girl, time is what I do have. As I said on the my other blog (and posted a few karl pictures) we just got over a stomach bug. But other than that, pretty much nada.

So I'll leave you with a question ...

If you had to pick between losing taste or hearing, what would you choose?

Just because I'm done ttc doesn't mean my uterus is done giving me trouble.

Jeez. Can I catch a break? Please?

So. My cycles have been wonky and I was bleeding everyday for, um, like 27 days. Yes. 27 days. I figure that's a bit much and i call my OB, asking if I need to come in. Yes, yes I do. My appointment was scheduled for the next week and of course, my bleeding stops. The power of simply having an appointment fixed the issue. But I went to the appointment anyway, at least discussing what the hell was going wrong.

First off, I sit in the waiting room amongst all the pregnant bellies. That's just torture. Even sitting where I am, it's hard. Stupid IF. Anywho, I get called back and my fabulous OB comes in. I get a pelvic exam and a manual and he thinks he feels something. Great. So he leaves to talk to his u/s tech to see if she has time to assist with a SSG. He wants to open up my uterus with saline, while watching with the u/s, to see if anything is in there.

Before the SSG, I get a visit from the monkey wand. We find a pretty cyst, clocking in at 4cms. Not that big at all for me, since I used to get 9-10cms cysts regularly. Then my OB comes in and I get my procedure. My uterus opens up and we find an band adhesion. Basically scar tissue stretching from each side of my uterus. Awesome.

He says since I've stopped bleeding and I'm not trying to get pregnant, we should just leave it be. But if it gives me any more trouble down the line, I'm to call him again and we need to go inside for a look. Another surgery. What a lucky girl I am!

Life after infertility.

Infertility sure has screwed me up.

The biggest part of my title isn't "infertility", it's the key word "after". But how come I can't put it all behind me?

I can't watch any baby delivery shows on television. I abhor even seeing the commercials for shows like "I didn't know I was pregnant". I have a hard time listening to anyone talk about how many kids they are going to have, like a given pregnancy will just happen on queue. Hollywood is fucking baby crazy right now that even in my brain candy magazines, there are weekly sections like "don't stars have the cutest babies!". Pah-lease.

And although I can't put it behind me, I find that I am proud as hell of my infertility. Sure, the 39 monitored cycles I went through weren't a walk in the park. The 8 bajillion injections I gave myself through my IVF and FET cycles sucked. The PIO injections my hip endured daily for 13 weeks still are lumpy from the torture. But now that it is all over, I beam with pride when I discuss karl's frozen beginnings.

Every now and again I read a blog discussing someone's discussion on whether or not to tell a child about their ART leading to their conception. And I simply don't get it. I don't pass by a chance to explain our IVF to someone and I certainly won't keep it from my son. If anything, it shows just how much I wanted him and what I was willing to do to get him. And while I respect someone else's decisions to tell or not tell, I'm certainly telling.

Something I don't get ... I remember reading someone discussing their IVF child and how they found it degrading to call their baby a "test tube baby". I hadn't gone through IVF yet, so I didn't discuss something I had no experience with. But now I do have an IVF baby and I don't see why it's an offensive phrase. He ~is~ a test tube baby. Am I missing something?