3 Months 'Til Winter!

My husband is so crazy sometimes! Ever since "Ski" magazine started coming in the mail again, all he can think about is when the snow will start flying again so he can strap on those skis. He's a seasoned veteran...I just learned this past winter. I started on New Year's Day with a lesson at Ski Sundown in New Hartford, CT. I think I ended up going a total of 16 times this past winter, ending the season with a few runs at Mad River Glen in Vermont as well as progressing to some of the black diamond trails at Mohawk Mountain in Connecticut. I even purchased my own equipment after only a few times at the slopes. I, too, am looking forward to the ski season... Yet, it's bittersweet. Had I still been pregnant, I would have missed out on this winter... There's still a chance for that to happen, which makes me sort of torn over the whole situation. On one hand, I'd really like to ski this winter. I only got to go for a few months and I was bitten by the bug--I'd love to get back into it. On the other hand, I'd really like to get started on our family. I feel so selfish sometimes. There are so many things I enjoy doing that I know will have to be put on hold when we have children. That's all a part of life...you make sacrifices to have a family. Sometimes, I don't want to make those sacrifices. Most of the time, I realize that those wants and desires would only temporarily be put on hold. Once the children are old enough, we can all go skiing together, for example. I need to look past the here and now and see the bigger picture.

In any case, I don't have much control over what the future holds. I'll just go with the flow. And while I'm looking forward to the first time snow flies this year, I know I will be just as happy if I have to keep my skis in storage this winter. It will be worth it in the end...

Why???

Why is it that you can exercise just about every day but not lose an ounce? I've been maintaining about the same weight for months now, but kicked it up a notch during the last week and exercised all but one day. Kayaking last Monday, hiking last Tuesday, walking Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, and hiking Sunday... yet I didn't lose an ounce! So why is it my weight has been pretty much the same without all of this exercise? It doesn't make any sense...

Sorry for the rant. I'm trying to get back on track here and I finally bought a scale after not owning one for years because I get obsessed with them. I'm still obsessed, apparently, but since Mondays are the weigh in day for a group I belong to, I had to weigh myself today. It was the same as it was a week and a half ago at the doctor's office. I just don't understand...

Through the steamy jungle...

Yesterday was HOT. The first time in a while that it actually felt like summer around here. The thermometer in the truck read 88 degrees outside and they said on the news that humidity was at 93%...it certainly felt like it! Yet, Brian and I decided (like the crazy fools that we are) to go for a hike yesterday. Nevermind that neither one of us is really in shape right now, or that the last time we tried this mountain, we gave up between 1/4 and 1/3 of the way up. We were going to hike Bear Mountain (which, BTW, is the highest peak in Connecticut!).

We boot up at the car and I realize I really have to pee... I hate outhouses, but I trudge off to the one by the parking lot expecting the worst--and that's exactly what I found. There was no way I was putting my "dainties" anywhere near what I found in that outhouse. I sucked it up and decided I would hold it.

We begin our hike gleefully, so sure of ourselves. The dog bounds ahead of us, tethered unwillingly by her retractable leash. Whew, this first steep was steeper than I remembered! And so it continues...finally, we're making deals with ourselves that we must make it to the intersection of the UnderMountain Trail and Paradise Lane. That's all...we couldn't face ourselves if we couldn't make it at least as far as last time. I drag myself up the mountain, the urge to pee becoming more persistent, but move on we must. 45 minutes after we started, we're at the trail juncture. We collapse on the rocks in a panting heap. Yup, this is harder than we remembered. Brian takes a huge swig from his water, but I still have to pee... How can I possibly drink more at this point? I survey the area, finding nowhere sheltered enough, nor suitable, for a bathroom break. So I sit and rest while Brian and the pup drink and eat. After about 15 minutes or so, I suggest we try going a little bit further; in spite of how tired I was only minutes before, I'm feeling re-energized. After all, it looks pretty flat ahead from where I could see, and wouldn't it be a shame to give up just when it got easier. So we head on. Sure enough, the next stretch is pretty flat for quite some time. We each mentally make an unofficial stopping point of where the AT (Appalachian Trail) intersects with the UnderMountain Trail. It starts getting steep again and we aren't sure we will make it, but I urge Brian on a little further, saying, "Let's just get to as far as we can see right now and go from there." We get to that point and see the trail juncture sign only a few feet away. We made it to our second benchmark!

Again, a rest (this time standing since there was nowhere to sit). Brian wants to turn back at this point...the trail sign indicates it's another .9 mile to the summit and we aren't sure we can make it. But I say, "Let's see how far we can make it!" On we move again... Up rocky steps and rock itself, we move on til we get to a rocky clearing. The breeze feels wonderful caressing our sweat soaked skin and clothes, giving us temporary respite from the heat. We still can't see the monument on the summit, but I again urge him on stating that we don't know how far we are now, and we could be almost there. I think we continue on for another 1/2 mile after I said that before we reach the summit, but it was worth it. We made it to the summit for the first time in years. It took us a long time, but that didn't matter--we made it.

We camp out on the rocks eating our well-earned lunch. I still really had to pee, but it didn't matter at that time. We take our time on the top, resting for probably a half hour or more. It was funny how many people reached the top just to turn around almost immediately and head back down. After all that effort, they didn't even enjoy the fruits of their labor. But we made sure we did. Brian and our dog, Becky, pose for a few photos, we look out on the scenery (which was very hazy...normally, there's a really good view from the top of Bear Mountain), and then pack up. Heading back down, I want to bound down the mountain, buoyed by my feeling of accomplishment and desire to get to a restroom; Brian, however, is very tired. I try telling him that holding yourself back against gravity makes it worse, but he is also grouchy at this point. Our dog and I end up heading out ahead of him and beat him to the bottom by about 10 minutes. The whole trip takes us 3.75 hours...it shouldn't have been more than 2.5. But we did it! That's all that matters! (And I was really relieved when we finally got to the restrooms at McDonald's!! :) )

Brian and Becky at the monument on the summit


Me and Becky on the rocks at the summit

Over the river and through the woods...

We're heading off to Grandma's cottage this afternoon. Today is my youngest brother's 15th birthday and my parents are throwing him a party there. Hard to believe it's been fifteen years already...I still remember when he was born. I was almost 12 years old... My mother went back to work after having him (her 4th child!) so I helped raise him, as well as my two other siblings. But since they were already older, I feel more like I actually raised Vin. I've been through the diapering, bathing, feeding, crawling, and all that baby stuff once already with him, long before I even wanted to be a mother myself. And now he's 15 and towers over me. It's unbelievable how quickly time flies by without you even realizing it.

A Decision...

Brian and I were talking last night and we've come to a decision.

Ever since we lost our little angel last month, we've known we wanted more children and would try again. However, the timeline was always an issue. We were starting to feel like we were getting too old to be starting a family... at my age, my mother was on her way to her 3rd child, and his mother already had her 2nd. We didn't want to be *old* once our children finally left the house. Really, we wanted to be done with having our family by the time I turn 32... When we decided in May to start trying to have children, I jumped into charting because I knew that the chances of conceiving in any given month were only about 20%. On top of that, having PCOS can decrease ones chances of conceiving. Originally, we planned on starting trying in August or September, but once my doctor confirmed my suspicions of PCOS, we figured it would probably take several months if not more, so we started trying right away. Neither one of us expected me to get pregnant our first month trying. Ironically, now it's August leading into September, and we're back to square one. Anyway, back to the decision (I'm so scatterbrained!)... Instead of being so clinical about the process, as I have been so far, we're going to take a much more laid back approach of "it'll happen when it happens." It wasn't healthy for me to be consumed by the whole "baby-making business" as I was and it does put a strain on relationships. There's nothing like *demanding* sex because you may be ovulating and getting upset if your husband doesn't perform as expected...it's that side of trying to conceive that I would like to avoid this time. I'm still charting for now but I think I will back off on that once I finally get my period again. Of course, I paid for the VIP Gold access on Fertility Friend's website, so it is a bit of a waste of money, but our relationship is much more important than that.

This is a huge step for me--I'm such a planner--but it's also for the best. So here's hoping we are blessed with another baby at some point! (And that I can stick to my resolution!!)

Adirondack Vacation...Way too short!

I meant to add this post yesterday, but there just wasn't enough time. We recently went on a vacation to the Adirondacks in New York. My husband's uncle lives in Indian Lake, a beautiful town of about 1800 residents -- I'm entirely jealous of him. He has a flexible job as a real estate salesman and can kayak right from his property. After spending the time with him in the beautiful quiet of upstate New York, I once again am realizing how dissatisfied I am with my own life right now. My job makes me miserable...I don't like where we live at all...I feel like there is just so much more out there that I'm missing out on. Brian (my husband) was so kind to point out that his uncle is nearly 62 and is therefore in a much different stage in his life than we are. But why should we have to wait to find happiness? Shouldn't we enjoy what we're doing throughout our lives? My father is one who measures success by how much money you make, but I've always felt that unless you enjoy what you're doing, it doesn't matter how much they pay you. Ever since our trip, I've been spending time online trying to find property and jobs in the Adirondacks... Land is abundant and cheap, but jobs are very scarce. Would the added financial stresses take away from the freedom to enjoy life? And what about our future children? How would they feel about growing up in a community where it's common for the graduating class to consist of less than a dozen students? Would they be satisfied with so few play companions, or would my dreams force them to endure a lower quality of life since their needs would be so different than my own?

I really don't know what to do at this point... I do know that every time we go on vacation (we go up North a few times a year), I always come back considering moving up there, so obviously, change is in order. I just haven't figured out how to execute it yet... In the meantime, I muddle through my unhappy job buoyed by thoughts of returning to that beautiful wilderness sometime soon...

This is Brian kayaking on Indian Lake....


This is the view we had from the house in the woods... sunrise on Tuesday...

Meet and Greet

This seems strange... I visit this website to view another Fertility Friend member's blog, and the next thing I know, I'm setting one up for myself. I've journaled in the past, but they've always been private thoughts for myself only. I never dreamed of sharing any of those thoughts with anyone else. So what am I doing here? I guess I will have to continue on to figure that out...

[a little background info...]

So you're probably wondering who I am, this person who thinks she's important enough to publish the sordid details of her life. Well, I'm pretty normal, actually. I'm just your average American woman. I'm 26 years old (will be 27 in October) and married to a wonderful man who has been my partner for nine years now. I have a dog that I treat like my own flesh and blood. I work at a job I don't particularly enjoy, but it pays the bills. I'm a bit lost right now on my journey; I'm not sure which path to take, but I know the one I am on is not the one for me. I have many interests which change frequently. Some might call me flighty, I just think it makes me interesting. My poor husband tolerates it well, but occasionally rolls his eyes when I dive into yet another hobby.

I'm also a mother, although most wouldn't know it. On July 19, 2004, we discovered that the baby I was so blissfully pregnant with was no longer alive. I had to have a D&C later that day. It's been a rough 5 weeks since then. The loss has forced me to re-examine much in my life. Things that I used to believe were important no longer are, and vice-versa. I'm also leaning toward a much simpler life (which is a bit of an oxymoron since here I sit typing away on a computer sharing my thoughts with whomever across the world...so much for the simple life!). We will try again, but I am not quite as optimistic as I was the first time around, unfortunately. I know first hand that just because you get pregnant doesn't mean you'll have a baby to hold in the end. It's an awful lesson to learn.

The latest is the recent confirmation of my primary care physician's diagnosis of polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS). After the miscarriage, I did a lot of reading and discovered that (unmedicated/uncontrolled) women with PCOS have a higher risk of miscarriage. I have since seen an endocrinologist to get this under control and just started taking Metformin Sustained-Action. Hopefully, this will get everything back in balance and prevent a future heartache from occurring.

So that's my background.... Intrigued???