June 2001
Jun 1, 2001 Ancient Archives
Dawn blogs way back when. Below the cut.
June 30, 2001
This has not been such a great week.
I think a friendship that was important to me really suffered over the whole LLL fiasco and then I got my progesterone test back and the news wasn’t good (we’ll know more about what’s wrong when I get the results from another bunch of blood tests on Monday). I spent the week trying not to be depressed about these two things.
Happily, today finds me in a much better mood. I’ve made overtures toward the friend which is all I can do (and I’m not letting myself obsess about who said what and who meant what, etc.). And I’m still taking the whole fertility thing one step at a time. Right now I’m focusing on diagnosis and I’ll make decisions about treatment later. I know I have limits stating how far I’m willing to go but I’m not quite sure where those limits are.
I feel frustrated by the fact that I can’t afford adoption. I guess that doesn’t really matter since Brett isn’t as open to adoption as I am. Last night he told me that he really wants to have another child and it’s pretty darn important to him that said child be biological. I hope to adopt someday and I think that Brett will come around but probably not soon. I think our finances would need to be much tighter for him to feel good about adoption. Anyway, after this talk I realized that our limits may not be the same when it comes to fertility treatments. On the one hand, this makes me angry because it’s my body that will have to go through all sorts of ridiculous, humiliating, and/or difficult things but on the other hand, it he wants a biological child with me, there’s really no other choice.
I know it may seem early to be talking about specific treatment options but the next step after diagnosis is sitting down with the doc and discussion options and so it’s actually not too early at all. Just part of that whirlwind of reproductive medicine; a whirlwind that I’m not so sure I want to step into.
I may have mentioned here that my sister tried to have a baby for three or four years and went through a bunch of treatment to have my nephew, Frankie. Sometimes I feel rotten that I’m making such a big deal about babymaking when I’ve “only” been trying for 21 months. Here’s the thing: I’m naturally more aggressive about getting stuff done than my sister usually is. Also, I’m feeling really driven by a gap between siblings that is already way too wide for my tastes. It absolutely slaughters me that Noah will not have a brother or sister before he’s five. It makes me want to scream and slam my fists against walls. Intellectually, I think it’ll all be fine and fabulous, but emotionally I worry that he will never enjoy his sibling, that that will never be close, that so much adult attention has ruined him forever. (This is not helped by my mother sometimes heaving a sad sigh and saying, “Noah *needs* another baby in the house.” It’s a dagger in my heart when she says stuff like that.) My desperation comes from the fear that I’m failing him; it’s not just the thought of holding a wee baby of my own in my arms again. June 28, 2001
I made the mistake of discussing Noah’s grouch-fest with my mom. Her advice was, of course, to spank him. I don’t spank. I’m not violently (no pun intended) anti-spanking because I think that no one parenting choice should be pulled out of context of the relationship in which that parenting choice happens. However, *my* value system does not endorse spanking. Besides which I don’t think that spanking would work and even if it *did* work, I don’t think it would be worth it. And even if it did work, and it was worth it, I certainly don’t think it’s appropriate in this case. Noah is an awful lot like me when I was little. He gets stuck with a negative mood because his pride won’t let him jettison it. He’s only four and I think I was more than twenty before I figured out I was master of my own mood swings (to some extent anyway) so why would I punish him because he hasn’t figured this out yet??? My mom says he needs to deal with the consequences of inflicting his bad mood on other people but he does deal with the consequences, i.e., an exasperated mother, a hurt friend, and a grouchy, ruined playdate. Instead of wishing I could find an appropriate punishment to somehow “cure” him, I wish I could be more patient. Because I have echoes in my head of how inappropriate such behavior is (echoes that come from being lectured about my own bad moods as a kid), it’s hard for me to be sympathetic enough to help him find a way out of the mess. I remember feeling alone and trapped and terrible when I behaved the way he behaved. I remember wishing someone would rescue me from myself. I hope that I can learn how to be a stronger advocate for Noah when it comes to facing down his own grouch-self. This time I did the best I could and at the end of it all I told him, “You’re still a very little boy and it’s hard to always know what to do when you’re feeling so grumpy. But you’re getting bigger and you’re getting better at it.” To which my son predictably replied with the requisite frown on his pretty little face, “I am NOT! I will always be grouchy!” So I smacked him. Just kidding! June 26, 2001
It’s so hard to watch him be awful and not *make* him be lovely and shining and sweet, like I know he’s capable of being. But our rule is that if people come over and he’s feeling grouchy, that he should tell us he needs time alone and go to his room and we won’t bother him. So he scowls at Madeleine (and her mother), pulls a Greta Garbo (”I want to be alone!”), spins on his heels to march into his room and slams the door behind him. I attempt to smile at the stunned audience and lead them into the kitchen for muffins.
(sigh)
Thank god my friends get it. As far as I know, they don’t hustle together to discuss my kid’s anti-social tendencies or to analyze the way I handle things. I mean, they have kids who embarrass them, too. They get it. Still it’s hard.
I’ve been having nightmares about Andrea Yates. In one, I was watching her parenting her kids and she was just lovely, a great mom and I turned to the two oldest sons sitting on the couch and said, “See, she was a good mom, right? You guys were happy, right?” And they just looked at me with these solemn, beautiful faces. I realized that since the children allowed to watch this good moment, this happy moment in their lives, that I had to face the way it ended, too. So I left the room and when I came back, the children were gone and there was a figure curled up on the floor. It was her, with her black hair tangled around her. She was on her knees, her face pressed to the carpet and I felt this horror emanating from her body. This awful despair and anger and hatred and, well, evil coming up and poisoning the room.
Then I woke up.
So many of us mothers are talking and talking about this story because we have all looked into that same pit of despair but were blessed enough not to fall in.
June 21, 2001
I’ve been working to become a La Leche League leader for about three years. Normally it doesn’t take a person nearly that long to get to leadership but it’s taken me that long due to all kinds of silly circumstances having to do with stuff like moves, bureaucracy, and an ACLA (certification supervisor) who completely dropped the ball. Anyway, I’m finally *this close* to leadership but now I’m thinking of quitting.
It’s really important to me to volunteer in some way. I’ve been volunteering since I was about sixteen. What appeals to me about being a leader is helping new moms adjust to motherhood (it’s no walk in the park for most of us). It’s not just the breastfeeding stuff for me. Anyway, there was a wee blow-up between my two leaders and my co-LA (leader applicant) and myself on Monday. As a result it’s been a hellish, difficult week for me and maybe some of them, too. So I decided to take the summer off from LLL entirely (heck, I’ve been going for nearly four years and my son has been weaned for a few months now) and check out other volunteer opportunities. Maybe I’ll work a crisis line again. I thought of looking into CASA but it looks like too much to do at this point in my life. And then I thought of Parents Anonymous but here in town they’re under the umbrella of Catholic Social Services and I’ll have to see how/if that changes their agenda in the groups. I don’t want to do childcare again; I’m pretty sure I want to work with parents.
June 19, 2001
Noah and I had a playdate with a little boy whose mom I met on the internet. She read something that I’d written and saw that my bio mentioned Columbus. She was looking to move here soon so she wrote me to ask the usual new-family-in-town-questions (pediatricians, dentists, etc.). I invited her to check in with our happy-go-lucky Thursday morning hang-out sessions for hip-mama-wannabe’s and she did and fit right in. She’s got two real nice kids. Her son is just a week older than Noah and has this terrific, outgoing personality. Noah (and I) enjoyed hanging with them all immensely. It takes Noah a fairly long time to warm up in a new environment and he spent the first 45 minutes of the visit in my lap and refusing to talk to anyone. Then he caught sight of this annoyingly shrill, toy trumpet and tooted on that for most of the afternoon. Because this family happens to be so nice, they just smiled while he diligently set about rupturing our eardrums. For some reason, he really wants to play a trumpet. He’s been saying this for about a year, “When I’m bigger, I’m going to play a trumpet!” His (maternal) grandfather and (maternal) uncle both dabbled in trumpet-playing in school so maybe this is genetic.
I’m enjoying not writing this summer. I feel guilty because the lack of additional income means that we have had less luxuries, like we haven’t gotten a zoo membership this year. Still I’m enjoying being at home so much more without deadlines and research. Today after the playdate, Noah and I just books, made muffins, got out the playdough and then sat down and played with some of his little people together. The house is realtively clean and I knew what I was making for dinner so I was able to enjoy just being with him. I’ll tell you, I really want the agent to pick up my book and I want it to sell but if it doesn’t happen, I won’t be too miserable ‘cuz it means I won’t have to write it.
June 17, 2001
Happy Father’s Day to dear Brett!! For the past four years, Noah and I work together to make Brett his Father’s Day present. Noah helps me pick out a picture of him and his Daddy and then he colors a matt for the pic and I frame it. They always turn out beautifully.
I’m in the mood to completely revamp my site. Thankfully, saner heads prevail and instead we’re going out to play in the fabulous June weather.
Oh I wanted to say that I somehow lost all of the May blogs. Ahh well. Less drivel to comb through if you’ve decided to check out the archives. Not that my life isn’t fascinating, it is, really. But you have to be living it to think so.
June 15, 2001
I woke up today to find that my temperature is *still* not up. For you folks playing along at home, that means no ovulation as yet. All the other signs are kicking (in the lexicon of the ‘net that would be: CM and CP) but my body seems to drag things out. This would be fine but as those of you who have had to work at conception know, it makes things tedious in the baby-making department. Speaking of the baby-making department, I’ve noticed the terminology has changed in the five years since we built Noah from scratch. Procreative sex used to be called love olympics (LO — you know how ‘net denizens love acronyms) but now it’s called baby dance (BD, natch). Personally, I prefer LO, thanks. By the way, the miracle baby doctor looked at my charts and said that since I was ovulating so nicely, I was sure to get a baby out of this gig at some point. He’s running the usual battery of hormonal tests to see what’s what; we shall see.
People have been contacting me about the now defunct Spoon Co. former publishers of fine homebirth baby books and nursing journals. They were a hit but we’re lousy at managing a home biz so we quit making ‘em. I’m still listed in yahoo for them (I’ve wrote them about changing it and they haven’t) and it’s likely that if you’re reading this, you linked in from there since that’s where I get a lot of my traffic. Sorry folks, don’t have the books anymore. I’ve been talking to Amy Scott about her maybe taking them on.
Today I have friends coming to dinner so I have to clean the house. I also have to work out. And see my counselor. And make the dinner (much of it in advance). So why in the hell am I sitting here typing on this damn blog????
Dawn, thy name is procrastination.
June 12, 2001
Today I’m babysitting my marvelous nephew, Baby Frankie. In celebration (and with a cordial nod to the weatherman’s prediction of temperatures in the 90s), I have the central air on. What luxury!
Last night at LLL a dear friend who clearly has great powers of observation said, “You look different, your eyes look bigger or something.” In fact, I replied, my eyes aren’t bigger but my thighs may be smaller owing to the fact that I’ve lost 10 (count ‘em that’s T-E-N) pounds. Bravo to me! She’s the first person to notice anything. This is due, I think, to having several (and here I use “several” meaning “many”) more pounds to lose. I’m anti-diet so instead I’ve started a “life-time eating regime” and then stepped up on the exercise. Tomorrow we’re off to see the miracle baby doctor to find out why in the hell we haven’t been able to produce a sibling for Noah. I’m interested in tests but less interested in treatment. At this point I just want to know WHY, if they can figure it out. I’ve been taking various herbs and have noticed some changes in my cycle but I want more concrete answers if I can get ‘em.
June 11, 2001
Someone asked me recently why I bother to do a blog. Especially one that’s not exactly a fascinating example of a blog that has people rushing to visit. Here’s why: it’s something somewhat creative that doesn’t involve kneading. About the only thing I make these days is bread. I love baking bread but I like to make other stuff, too, and just don’t have the time or the focus. I’m terrible at staying focused on one thing so I need projects that can be put off and on pretty easily. I’m taking the summer off from strenuous writing so this blog is it. (OK, I keep a personal journal but that doesn’t have the bells and whistles, ie., images etc. that come with a blog, obviously, and that’s the part that’s fun.)
My friend feels that blogs are egocentric to which I reply, “Of course.” Most writers are horribly egocentric even when their self-esteem is in the gutter, they still think that they have something interesting enough to say that they must write it down.
June 5, 2001
I’m finally BACK ON THE BLOG!
What a lot of things have happened since last we spoke. Let me do a quick run-down for y’all:
–A good friend of mine got pregnant, saw the heartbeat, and then sadly, miscarried; I spent much of my computer time doing truly wasteful things like reading archived conversations about the terrible, sadistic, and yet-claiming-to-be-Christian Pearls and watching the whole Kaycee nightmare go down.
I am a terrible voyeur.
Hot day, playdate just now over. Noah’s recovering in the basement (playroom). He was surly, rude, and generally unlikable while his good friend Madeleine was here. He’s pretty much been like this for the past two months when he’s around other kids. He warms up eventually and fortunately, Madeleine forgave him and they had fun but it’s very frustrating for me. I have to keep reciting my new mommy-mantra, “Noah is not my project, he’s my kid.”
–More sad news for other friends, Used Kids burned down;
–Mart got a job in PR at Banana Republic and moved to Brooklyn;
–Brett and I got a referral to an RE and have an appointment for next week;
–My brother applied for a job at COSI;
–I finished my proposal and sent the whole package out;
–I saved a bunch of family heirlooms for a sorry destiny in the hands of strangers;
–I started therapy and began to enjoy weekly epiphanies.
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