Sunday, April 24, 2011

Do we need Santa, The Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy?


For those of you that have children did you choose to make them believe in Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, tooth fairy etc or did you decided not to do so and why?

In this day and age of mass consumerism, young children are targeted very early on with what they should want and can't possibly live without and how does a strange red man or giant talking rabbit make that ok?


As a child I was petrified of Santa, he was a large, angry red man with an ugly mask that made bizarre noises that was meant to be laughter, I think he smelt vaguely of stale tobacco and wine, I cried!! I remember pushing madly away from his clutches as he gripped tighter on my by now petrified little body! I felt betrayed that my parents would make me do that AND they laughed and said I was silly! Ahhh hello!!! Scary man is SCARY!!

Waking up with my Easter chocolates on my bed also worried me, it meant I had been visited by a giant rabbit during the night!! What if he had mistaken me for a carrot?? What if he had rabies or Myxomawhatsit?? We’ve all seen Donnie Darko right?? I mean what kind of strange demonic power makes a rabbit that big?? What happens when it poops? I spent the day looking for fur and shit! I had a pet rabbit, it committed suicide by jumping off our 4 story balcony on the day I was going to take it to show and tell! I have never forgiven it! I still remember peering over the railing at the little red and white speck below! Why I asked, wasn’t it happy?? Didn’t it love me? I imagined this giant smelly rabbit looking at me as I slept with its large pink nose twitching and its long sharp teeth mere centimetres away from my sweet baby face! But wait there’s CHOCOLATE!! YAYAYAYAYAYAGIMMEEEEEEE!

I also seemed to figure it all out at a young age, but then again I don’t think my parents were big on keeping up the facade. I think they gathered rather early on that I wasn’t overly enthralled or impressed with the whole scene.

So why do we lie and deceive a child from the time they can walk? Most parents use it as a disciplinary tool starting sometimes months before the event with “if you don’t behave and are a good boy/girl Santa won’t bring you any presents!” Or “You won’t get any Easter eggs if you keep screaming like that now get up and move it missy!” WTF? I lived in fear that my normal behaviour as a child would incite anger from the “Red Bastard” or the “Demented Rabbit” I also started wondering about the fairness of it all when little Mary down the road got a friggen pony!! I knew she was the baddest most spoilt little bitch in my street that had broken one of my toys just the week before, and all I got was some colouring books and a puzzle!! How come poor Fritz only got an orange and he was so good it was pathetic?? Explain that ANGRY RED DUDE!!!

So I guess as someone without a kid and hoping that I may yet have one, I find myself wondering if I would make them believe in these things or not? Why did/do you? I get that kids need magic but surely there is plenty of other magic without the bizarre worship to the Altar of the credit card? Would I steal Santa and the beloved Bunny away from my kids?? I really don’t know! Do I want to be a part of the unfairness of mass consumerism where you are only as good as daddy’s pay cheque allows you to be? No I don’t! I ask myself is it right to teach kids that lies and deception and manipulation are ok to get what you want? And what about the BLACKMAIL people?? If you do this you will get that, if you are good you will get a bigger present! What about all the kids living below the poverty line?? They are good, they are just as deserving of the big angry Red Man and Giant Rabbit but, how do we explain that because you are poor those bastards don’t love you as much??

Friday, February 11, 2011

Grease, Oil change and a Rebore!!

We are in Brisbane for an appointment with our new fertillity specialist and for me to get a hyst, biopsy and lipoidal flush done.

Ok so a recap of events so far .....

It was an interesting day yesterday! At 5.30am leave home and drive to Canberra.  We arrive airport and settle down for coffee. Pete takes his time I start to twitch. So we ended up getting called over the intercom for the plane as we're running late. 

Get to Brissy walk up huge mountain from Central Station to Wickham Trce. We have to leave bags at hotel as its too early to get in. It starts raining. Walk out and I promptly fall over slipping on one of those metal grates that has taken on the characteristics of an ice rink. I scraped the skin off my knees. Pete picks me up saying that was so totally ungainly and in his words "like a big sack of potatoes" ok I suck up the tears!

Get to appointment with Wazza, the golden god of IVF and we both love him instantly!!! I cry because we wish we had been with him from start. He decides to show Pete what a pap smear looks like ummmm.....ok then!! I get more sympathy for that than my sack of potatoes imitation!! I throw myself at Wazza and hug him. Poor man was a bit startled. We walk out and I declare to Pete "I love Wazza and want to have his baby!" Pete pats my arm. 

Next is my appointment with the Anaesthatist who promptly tells me I am fat and should consider losing weight. I resist the temptation of telling him he was old, skinny and will die soon!! I act all shocked! I never knew OMG when did that happen? He interrupts me often so I don't get to give him my excuses.  We work out how not to kill me and he will set up a glucose drip and my beloved Fentanyl. He spends most of the time looking at my cleavage!! YEAH bet your skinny arse wife don't have them apples!!! I ask if we should pay now and he says "no no no we'll send it" I asked if that was so I didn't have a heart attack in his office! He said "hardly I'm one of the cheapest ones around" to which I replied "you may be cheap but your not easy" I don't think he smiled. 

That evening we set out for dinner. I wanted Indian and there was even a restaurant in Wickham Terrace but Noooooooooooooooo Pete suggested Pancake Manor after we'd walked to Queens St. By now my knees are stiff as is my back and wrists. I smile bravely as I have those fat words in my ears and we continue the epic stroll!  We make it to the PANCAKE place!! My eyes glaze over at the chocolate pancakes with cream, ice-cream and hot, thick, chocolate fudge!!! But I decide on a fairly fat free alternative (those words again) ordering the mexican crepe. I wait for Pete to order expecting he is having trouble choosing between the 4 or 6 stack! The little skinny waiter comes over takes mine then we stare expectantly at the man I have walked all this way for to order!! "I'll have the chicken burger thanks mate" ummm what? I breath deeply. "Babe why are you not getting pancakes??" he replies he doesn't "feel like them!" I stare incredulously. He looks nervously back. "I like it here" is his reason. I could have eaten Indian or at one of a million places along the way but nooooo I thought you wanted a fucking pancake!!   Pete feels uncomfortable with his meal. He says "it's wrong to have an egg on the chicken burger!" I guffaw loudly and tell him he has just eaten the circle of life!

So after having walked my sore stiff arse off I know its made no difference anyway so decide to have cake and coffee whilst waiting to go into movies so I can be 5 kilos heavier for the fucker tomorrow!! Should have had my chocolate pancakes!!

Pete wanted to see "The Green Hornet" in 3D no doubt!  I groan inwardly once again as my futile attempts at steering him towards the Matt Daemon “Hereafter” movie.  Whilst sitting in movies have noticed only crazy people seem to be out, we fear for our safety. My sore stiff knees won't allow for a fast get away. The 3D glasses are making me sneeze. Movie is so loud my ears start to bleed. Am sure the man in a trench coat in front of us just farted! Thankfully Pete suggests cab ride back to hotel after I point one out to him. 

So onto today!! After only a few hours sleep I console myself that drugs and general anaesthetic shall soon have me sleeping!! Woo hoo lucky me. Get to day theatre, ladies are lovely. Pete tells receptionist he wonders what time "Hooters" will be open. Young couple behind us stop breathing and move further back. I resist urge to slap the man!! We say our goodbyes me to get prodded and scraped and Pete off for some mammaries. Although I later learn that was a ruse he went shopping for me for a get well pressie a gorgeous black leather Fossil bag *blush* I decide to forgive him for pancake and Hooters section of time here so far. 

I get to put on the "one size fits all" gowns and the disposable undies only make it as far as above my knees. I sigh as the fat comments starts echoing around the room. I rip off undies in disgust. Consider keeping them for Pete to put on later but fear this some  how crosses over into "perverted sexual fantasy territory" and put them in the bin. The nurse assisting Mr U Needtoloseweight is a big girl like me and agrees knickers are bad. She says they often marvel at how women manage to get them on and how the nurses then struggle to cut them off again.  All modesty requirements are now totally pointless and I turn around and bare my arse at the skinny anesthetist. The girls and I joke around a bit. I tell them how mean Dr Needtoloseweight is. One says feel sorry for his poor wife! I ask with all sincerity if he allows her to eat more than one meal a day!! We all laugh more! Then in comes "I am a golden god" Wazza. I say "No one is allowed to make fun of me being fat when I'm under!"  He pats my arm "Rubbish!" he says "you aren't fat you're curvy!" I gaze at him with slightly manic devotion ..... 1 2 3 snore!!

Recovery goes well, pain quite sharp but more fentanyl does the trick and a few heat packs. Wazza comes by to check on me 3 times like OMG the clouds have parted and the angels sing!! Wazza tells Pete his "Little" girl is fine, her cervix is as tight as a fishes arse so had to dilate me but he is happy with how things are in there. He shows me photos of red circles I nod and grin!! 

In a lovely hotel now near airport, had a sleep and some panadol. We might watch a movie have dinner in bed. Am glad it's all over. I feel this is the closest we have come to this all working. Will be onto Viagra pessaries tomorrow (dear lord) then injecting clexane starts Monday. That's it for now beautiful friends!  Sigh. It's been a long 2 days. Love you all xx

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Thoughts and Ramblings on IVF

What makes us go though the emotional, financial, physical and spiritual torment that is IVF?

I am often in awe at the woman who just don’t give up. I am facing a daunting 2011 where I fear my dreams of being the mum I always thought I would, will come to an end. As I sit in yet another 2ww I am racked with fear. Another BFN? More than likely. I have tried it all, the staying positive, the visualizations, the deep breaths, the nurturing, the self talk. I admit I am tired, tired of trying to stay positive that this will be “the one” I think I am also scared to hope, scared to get my hopes up. The let down gets harder each time.

I am getting older, with it comes fear of the “is it too late” questions. I know for some it never is, they are young at heart, slim, fit and vibrant. I already struggle to sit on the floor, kneel and bend, the years of hormonal problems and now IVF drugs have blown me up, I am heavy, I am not as fit as I want to be. I wish I could change that but am tired of fighting with a body that won’t listen. I don’t want to have a child and die whilst they are little. I don’t want to leave my partner behind to raise them as a single dad. I want to be here for at least another 30 years. Am I selfish? There are also many parents that die at a young age, life has no guarantees.

Our last transfer I was convinced (for the first time) that I really was pregnant, I am in tune with my body, I am in tune with my womb, I feel it. I felt the implantation and then just as clearly when they let go. It was late at night and as I laid in bed with my hand on my tummy I felt the sharp sad pain of release, I knew, I don’t know how but I knew that they were there no more. As I cried in the darkness I felt the futility of what I was trying to achieve. I still do not understand why my life has ended up this way.

I’ve noticed a pattern in my 2ww, the 1st few days are filled with hope, I can feel the awesomeness of a beginning, a chance, a small 4 cell embryo that may choose to come into this world, a spark, no more than the tiniest of pulses not yet a heart beat but the thought of one. With-in 4 days I am convinced it has not worked, I feel angry, I feel a failure, I feel cursed. Why does my body not accept this sentient being? Is the universe that unkind? How can it say I can’t be a mother when there are so many out there that hate that roll, I read about children being abused, beaten and neglected, how can there be a god that would let a child live in those circumstances yet not let one enter into my life. How can the universe say I am not meant to be a mum when all I have ever done is good for others. I have sacrificed a lot in life. Surely there must be something to show at the end of my struggle?

Then around the 7-8 day mark I think I feel it, a connection, yes it is there, I can feel you baby, mummy loves you so so much, oh the fun we will have, I can smell you, touch you, watch you smile, how tiny your hands and feet. In a few years we are running on the beach, I laugh as your daddy takes you into the water and you squeal and splash about, more sun block and please keep your hat on. I take so many photos, never tiring of your beautiful face. I feel so proud of you, I soak up your laughter like a sponge. Your daddy is amazing, he makes you laugh till you are nearly sick, I have to scold him, he wraps you in his arms, I watch as you kiss his cheek and smile. He loves you like I do.

By day 10 I have started to POAS, I know I know it’s early, I shouldn’t be doing it, I can’t stop, I want to see those 2 lines so much, I never have you know. I have never experienced the elation of a positive test. How will I feel, OMG I would faint. So I try, I look hard, every angle, in the sunlight, I tilt it, I press it to my heart then look again, is there something??? No. Oh well, it’s early right. I try again the next morning, my heart is full of hope, by now I am trying to convince myself I am even though I know I am not. Still that line eludes me. Maybe the test is faulty. Damn it!! I hate you world. I stand and look into the mirror, My eyes are dull, the shadows darker. My lips hold no smile. Deep breath, there is always tomorrow.

Blood test soon, it won’t be a shock, yes I know not pregnant, no HCG, no worries! Why? Why? Why? What did I do wrong? I had a good lining, I had a good egg. What is wrong with me? Another precious embryo wasted, how can it be. Others get pregnant the 1st time they try. Why am I so pathetic? How can I call myself woman! I am a dried up old hag! Day of the blood test, I sit in the car and cry before I get my blood taken. I know it is negative but the insane part of me whispers what if it’s not! I look at my partner, he feels so bad, he tried so hard to make it better but he can’t. With each touch and hug I cry harder. The phone call comes. Hurried receptionist the other side, how many calls has she made already, sorry Leslie it’s not positive ok thank you goodbye!!!! Does she know the pain? The wound? The agony?

One day I want her to call with excitement and laughter! Good news you have a positive, your HCG is 459!! Really?? Are you sure? Ohhh ohhhhhhhh how much? Is that good? What now? What’s my progesterone? What do I do? Ohhhhh are you sure? I hug myself tight. Could it really be? Honey we are pregnant! I have a baby growing inside me, Ohh my god. I am so scared, will it stay? I can’t lose it. I can’t deal with that. Please no, don’t let that happen. Please let it stay and be healthy so that one day I can laugh and smile at your pure beauty and innocence and wonderment. Yes I am your mamma, let me hold you tight, let me do the best I can to make you happy and content. We are here sweetheart. We love you more than life itself. We can’t wait to show you the world. Please come soon. My heart keeps breaking. Where are you? I have waited so long. Please come soon!

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Oh Tangelo!




My family has developed an unhealthy obsession for Tangellos! What follows is a sad and at times troubling montage of our tangelo adventures. Why you ask?? I do not know.

THE TANGELO
The tangelo, is also widely known as the honeybell. Tangelo is a citrus fruit that is a hybrid of a tangerine and either a pomelo or a grapefruit. It may have originated in Southeast Asia over 3,500 years ago.[citation needed] The fruits are the size of an adult fist and have a tangerine taste, but are very juicy, to the point of not providing much flesh but producing excellent and plentiful juice. Tangelos generally have loose skin and are easier to peel than oranges.[1] They are easily distinguished from oranges by a characteristic knob at the top of the fruit.

So my Sister-In-Law came up with this one!

Silence of the Tangelo



My Brother and Sister-In-law decided to do this to my poor old dad!

Resistance is Futile


Yes this is yours truly!

Gobsmacked Tangelo Style


My Beautiful Man Pedro

Touch It!


And this is Trevor our Pet Tangelo

Hello I'm Trevor


Trevor and His Girlfriend

Trevor loves our cat Jubes, she doesn't really like him though! This makes Trevor sad!



SO as you can see we love our Tangelos, perhaps they cause far to much amusement for such an innocent fruit. Stay tuned for more Tangelo adventures
xx

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Hmmmm.....

Some how I have created a blog, not really sure what to do with it but here goes nothing
xx