Friday, March 28, 2014

Six more bloggers needed!

Fun news! I have fifteen infertility bloggers who are game for writing guest posts, and another nine bloggers interested in hosting these fabulous ladies. That means I need roughly six more bloggers to host my guest posters. When I get to that point I will have three times the amount I originally aimed for. Not bad. Not bad at all. Please read this post for a little background on National Infertility Awareness Week, and the small intiative I am taking to get the word out there, and bringing women together in support of this unfortunate disease.

Thanks to those of you who've shown interest in being a part of this and providing support. You're amazing. It's so much more fun doing something good for this rather than just being mad about it. 

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Will you let my friends share their infertility story?

Awareness. Besides trying to have a baby, it's the one thing that I have been so passionate about since infertility has become a part of our life. I want people from all walks of life to see infertility as a disease, and as something that affects one in eight couples. I know others may not always want to recognize it. Heck, even I want to pretend it doesn't exist in my own life some days. But it does. And it's real, and messy, and not always ever fun. One of my main goals while I am in the trenches of this is creating dialogue, and bridging that gap between the non-moms and the women that have gone before us. The ultimate dream of any infertile is to one day be together in the same club. Until that day comes, though, we just want more understanding for what our journey is like. Don't look at it like us needing your sympathy, although we do appreciate it. Look at it as bringing awareness, and learning what to say and what not to say to someone who is dealing with infertility. If one in eight couples is dealing with infertility, then it's likely that someone in your own life is dealing with this currently, or will at some point. I want to use my unique group of readers and fellow bloggers to resolve to know more about infertility.



Will you be a part of it? I am looking for some of my non-infertility blogger friends to team up with infertility bloggers. The idea would be that the infertility blogger would write a guest post for the non-infertility blogger sometime during the week of National Infertility Awareness Week, April 20-26, 2014. This year is an extra special one as Resolve is commemorating 25 years of infertility awareness. I am excited and hoping I can get at least ten bloggers coupled up for a total of five guest posts. Once I get some interested parties I will connect you up with each other. All I ask is that the blog posts be written sometime between April 20-26 during National Infertility Awareness Week.

Who's game? Leave me a comment below and I will connect bloggers by the end of next week.

Saturday, March 22, 2014

When we own a house, we will...

Buy a new bed and turn our bedroom into a sleeping sanctuary.  

If someone were to look in our bedroom they'd likely assume it was a college boy's first bedroom after leaving the frat house. It's sad. We sleep on a queen sized box spring and mattress. On the floor. We've said countless times that we will at least get a frame for it, but just never got around to doing it. Honestly? It really doesn't make a difference to me, plus it's lower to the ground for the puppies to jump up on. The bed was Jesse's first bed out of college. And I think it belonged to his brother before that. It has an Olympic symbol on it for cryin' out loud. From the late 90s. So yeah. The bed is not coming with us to the next house. Just not happening. We're 30 and 32 now. Time for a big kid bed. Any mattress shopping tips? I think I saw a Groupon for one once...

Make our bed everyday

Jesse and I sleep under two separate covers. Either our mothers were terrible at teaching us to share, or we have way different body temps requiring completely different blankets for slumber. I like a big fluffy comforter year round. Jesse can sleep under a sheet of parchment paper and still sleep like a log. With a fan blasting. The two blanket thing will no longer be my excuse for avoiding bed making. We'll also spring for a new mattress pad, and use matching fitted sheet, pillowcases, top sheet. And they will all be washed weekly. I am lucky if I do it once a month now. And that's embarrassing. Again, we are 30 and 32. Time to act like adults. Adults that make their bed. Daily. 

Plant a garden. 

Home grown produce. Need I say more? I might even up the ante and start composting. And stop shaving my pits. And brew my own Kambucha. But first, a garden. 

Buy new towels that match. 

We never registered for nice, fluffy towels when we got married. We did, however, register for a kegerator. It's called priorities. We clearly had ours in order. #beerme. 

Have suitable Jungle quarters. 

Jungle quarters? Like make our home look like a jungle? Not exactly. Jesse's bestie is Jungle. He sleeps at our house roughly 2-3 times a month. The guy deserves his own bedroom. No confirmation if it will be an air mattress on the lawn. 

OK. That's it for now. Maybe I will add more later. 

Did you change anything drastically when you moved into your first home? 

Monday, March 17, 2014

Life is weird

The house fell through. We aren't getting it. But!!! We broke up with it. Dear house, it's you. Not us. This may sound odd, but that fact alone makes me feel better. Empowered. We are in the drivers seat here. We make the decisions and have the final say around these parts. After the inspection we felt like something was off. It just didn't feel right. OK, the truth is, my dad and Jesse thought something was off. I was still in la-la-land (also known as the land of front porches, built-ins, and original woodwork). I'm glad my dad and husband snapped me out of it. We are buying a house because that is apparently what adults do? But more importantly, so we can afford to buy a baby (that phrase never fails to mind screw me). In the end, this house would have likely cost us a significant amount of money to maintain and bring up to our standard, even though it had recently been flipped. Go figure. What's the moral of this story? This house buying stuff is craziness. You think you're in...but you're never truly in until after the closing. Everyone made sure to warn me of this, but do I look like someone who heeds a clear warning? Please.

I am so glad I've been wearing my bloggin' pants through this, because I know it will be so nice to read back on this roller coaster part of our life. Much like our infertility stuff, I'm gonna write about the highs and lows of it all. I don't share my lows for any other reason than to ground myself, gain perspective, and most of all, to remind myself to be thankful when things are all good in the hood. I know it's human nature, but I've always gravitated toward focusing on the negative aspects of life. Womp, womp. I need to be reminded of the good and bad, to maintain a healthy balance. 

Let's talk about life for a hot minute, shall we? And not just mine. Life in general. It's weird. That's my unofficial tagline. Life. Is. Weird. I got life-is-weird news from three close friends this past week. One is deep in the throes of marriage troubles. Another was diagnosed with a funky disease that will affect her life from here on out. And another friend just found out her sweet six month old baby boy is not developing, and it is requiring intense physical therapy. There are times when I just want to be selfish and yell, "I don't want to know about this stuff!" How awful does that sound? Really awful. It's not how I truly feel, and I promise it's just a tiny fraction of it. In the end I am always humbled and honored, that in my friend's time of need, I am the one they seek out for comfort and advice. I am the one they trust with their life-is-weird moments. We all have our things. Babies aren't conceived with ease. We lose a parent way too soon. Our marriages get tested. We get sick. I am proud to be the person that allows my friends be vulnerable. They let me love and encourage them through tough times. And of couse, I get to rejoice right along side them when things are awesome too. I've chosen an amazingly fierce group of men and women as my friends. They are, without a doubt, the reason I am as strong as I am. 


Wednesday, March 12, 2014

We had an offer accepted on a house and I'm in deep, guys.


Deep trouble. Deep love. Deep excitement. Deep....it's-not-official-so-I-shouldn't-be-this-excited deep. 

Keeping my lips sealed is something I am virtually incapable of doing. Planning and executing a surprise birthday party for Jesse almost three years ago has and will probably always be the best I will ever be at keeping quiet on something. I basically had to break up with him to keep the secret. Rather difficult considering we were living together and slated to be married a few weeks later. Sorry, Jesse. We need to break up so I don't ruin your surprise party. 

Why am I saying all this??? 

Because we bought a F'ing house and I want to shout it from the rooftops. Except we haven't truly bought the house, and it won't be official until after the closing date later this spring. And it's probably not appropriate to be so confident in this until AFTER that time. We still have the inspection on Thursday. And then an appraisal done by our lender (I think that's how it works). But that doesn't matter, right? Because......WE BOUGHT A F'ING HOUSE!! Alright, my phrasing is off. We're buying a F'ing house. OK, I will also rescind the F word. My mom hates when I use that word. 

So. Proper, PC Lauren would like to tell you...we are in the process of purchasing a home. It's lovely. And wonderful. And we are going to do everything in our power to make it happen. And it will be awesome

Along with secret keeping, I also suck poker playing and not wearing my emotions on my sleeve. I've been told these qualities are endearing. Sure. OK. Let's go with that. 

WE'RE BUYING A HOUSE. 

Here is a sneak peek pic (previously leaked on the Instawebs)...


Thursday, February 27, 2014

I'm Liz Lemon

I can definitely relate to the Liz Lemon character on 30 Rock. Her healthy eating habits. Her awkwardness. Her flashbacks to adolescent days of sheer mortification. Her "I don't give a crap, but really I actually do" shtick. Even her desire to be a mom. Jesse thinks her and I are the same person. Every so often we will watch a clip from the show, and he will glance over at me when Liz does something in typical Liz fashion. He doesn't even have to say anything because I already know what he's thinking. I love everything about her so of course I don't care. That much.


I have a magnet on my fridge that says, "No, you can't buy me a drink, but you can give me the five dollars you were going to spend on it." Side note: No one has offered to buy me a drink in a long time....but when the unicorn moment would happen back in my singlin' and minglin' days, I'd usually have a cynical look on my face and say, "Why are you buying me a drink? Does this mean I have to sit here and drink with you? Wait. Am I being roofied? OMG. I'm being roofied" I would then likely freak out, stand up from my bar stool and dramatically proclaim, "Roofied! I'm being roofied!" And then I'd run over to my friends playing Buck Hunter and miss my free drink opportunity entirely. I sucked at flirting. Thank goodness Jesse was charmed by my wit and sarcasm via the internet before having to meet me at a bar. 

Tonight we watched the Valentines episode where Liz and Criss are together, and Liz finally has a decent chance at a drama free day. Of course she's still Liz, and therefore still resistant given her Valentine's Day track record. Criss urges her to see past that, and embrace what they have. And at the end of the episode there was a poignant part where it not only made me realize again the similarities between Ms. Lemon and I, but also how similar Jesse and Criss are. 

I am copying this from an article by The New Yorker, posted by Emily Nussbaum. It was her article titled, In Defense of Liz Lemon, because apparently several critics of 30 Rock were disappointed in the direction the writers were taking Liz's character in the final season. 

On Valentine’s Day, she and Criss have a fight at IKEA and she assumes they’ve broken up. Instead, when she goes home, he’s made dinner. “You wanted a table, I wasn’t super-helpful, who cares?” he says. “I tend to care,” she admits. “I let little things ruin stuff. I stopped shopping at Kmart because I found out Kathy Ireland didn’t design any of her signature socks.” Liz tells him that, at forty-one, she can finally change, but Criss thinks that’s ridiculous. “Eh, why bother. You can get mad at dumb stuff, that’s your thing. I’ll get over it, that’s my thing. It’s kind of perfect.” And he gives her a table he made from a Herman Cain poster and fallen branches from Riverside Park.

Yep. That's most certainly, 100%, without a doubt Jesse and Lauren. I freak out over dumb stuff. It's my thing. Jesse gets over it. That's his thing. I'm his loopy Liz. He's my cool as a cucumber Criss. For the next million forevers. 

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Where we're at with the baby stuff

Sometimes I don't want to try any harder to have a baby. Imagine me saying that in an unsure, low whisper because I can't believe I am actually admitting the thoughts that have been bouncing between my ears the past month or so. But 'tis true. Earlier this month we threw the ovulation predictor kits out the window and forgot all about it. Well not completely forgot about it, but you know what I mean. I added up all the money I've spent on those stupid ov tests and pregnancy tests. Hint: there were three zeroes after a one. And that was a low estimate. Barf. I said, "ENOUGH!!" No more of this for a while. Sure, we haven't been doing any medicated cycles since November (and that has been thee nicest reprieve evah!), but I was still focusing too much energy on every cycle. Tracking and obsessing. I was, and still am, exhausted by the thought of it. If you know me in real life (which I think most can confirm is the same as I portray myself on this blog--I hope?), you may know that I passionately go after the things that I truly want. A baby has been no different. 

Jesse and I have put things on hold to make our parental dreams come true. We don't go on vacations. We didn't pursue buying a house as soon as Jesse wanted to. All because I was scared of throwing a bunch of money at something else when it could be used toward fertility treatments. It's relatively embarrassing that in roughly 24 months I have spent the same amount on ovulation kits and pregnancy tests that we could have spent on two plane tickets to a tropical destination (OK, we'd probably still have to use a Groupon). Yuck. I have always scoffed at women who allow themselves to be so consumed with motherhood. How can they lose their identity like that? And then I realized I have been no different. Except I don't have a squishy, drooly human to show for it. Judgey Wudgey was bear. Who's more pathetic? Side note: I don't consume myself too much with how others live their life, but I will admit that how others handle the transition from before kids to after kids has always bewildered me. I am self aware enough, though, to admit I will most certainly struggle with that balance someday too, thus I try not to judge too harshly. Anymore. 

I will never regret the itensity in which we pursued fertility treatments this past year. We went buck wild for our baby, and there is no shame in that game. I'd venture to guess anyone else would do the same thing if they were in a similar situation. But sometimes you just have to stop (collaborate) and listen to your heart (before it tears you apart). 

I know I have already written about Jesse and I focusing more on the state of our marriage. Nurturing it, and making that our focal point. Communicating our feelings. It's been so good for us. And we are listening to each other. Like on the house stuff. I always shut Jesse down on it before. I now see the value in it, and am trusting that it's the best thing for us right now. I can take my infertility obsessed blinders off and actually see how it will benefit us more when and if we have to pursue the financial giant that is IVF. And Jesse is listening to me to. He'd be happy as a clam in the suburbs, but he is allowing me to take the reigns when pursuing a home in the heart of the city. I love him for that. Speaking of which...does anyone know where I can get some street legal sedatives? The ones I am putting in his chocolate milk every night are running low. Just kidding. 

So there you have it. Communicating. Listening. Trusting. That almost sounds like our marriage vows. Crazy, isn't it?