Lucky Thirteen

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“Well,” I told Arthur back in January.  “It’s official.  We’ve been us for 20 years.  Can you believe we started dating that long ago?”

He nodded.  We were thick in the midst of house things, redecorating, and moving.  It felt like that statement should be more climactic somehow, but, well, we’d just bought a house.

So it goes.  Another year, another mile marker.  Thirteen years ago today, we held the official launch party formalizing our partnership and starting our family.

Arthur let me sleep in an hour and a half this morning and that’s the kind of gesture that feels somehow more romantic than the “traditional” sorts of gifts for a day like today.  I’ll put away the dishes and then go a bit extra to do the laundry that is typically his responsibility and tonight we’ll go to dinner and despite our best efforts, wind up talking about the nuts and bolts of running a life together.

As far as creative and collaborative endeavors go, I think it’s a success so far, that we still wake up and wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.

This post is a part of Microblog Mondays.  If you want to read more, head on over to Stirrup Queens!  Thanks to Mel for originating and hosting.  

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DIY

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About two weeks ago, I looked into the living room and decided I didn’t like the brick fireplace very much.  My room is starting to come together, first with a light, sky blue paint for the walls, then a salsa red couch, a painting that my maternal grandmother bought years ago and I inherited and re-framed, as well as the rugs and throw pillows.  It’s a north-facing room and I love the way the colors pull the limited outdoor light into the space.

I knew we did not have the time or money to redo the masonry and I’m not a huge fan in most instances of opaque-painted brick (I’ve seen a few examples where it goes right but wasn’t comfortable with the high probability that it would go wrong).  Enter whitewashing: it lightens the brick but leaves the variation and texture intact.  I spent a lot of time browsing DIY and decor blogs and sites, figured out a general plan, and tried to figure out a time to complete the project.

Then, one day, I randomly decided to go ahead and prep the area with tape and tarps.  I’d planned to just do a test strip, but about two hours later, sent Arthur a text message with this picture:

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I may have gotten a wee bit carried away.

So that evening, I finished the brick and painted the first coats on the mantel.  By the end, what had originally looked like this:

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Instead looked like this:

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I’m still figuring out how to arrange everything on the mantel and such, but it really does brighten the room considerably.

It’s weirdly therapeutic to create a space for myself after so many years living in apartments and rentals.  It’s also a huge change to start and finish a project where I have a fair amount of control over the outcome.  I hadn’t realized how much the randomness of infertility treatments and the NICU (and the corresponding lack of control) had messed with my mind over the years.

Taking joy in creation is a wonderful new feeling.

This post is a part of Microblog Mondays.  To read more or participate yourself, head over to Stirrup Queens!  Thanks to Mel for originating and hosting.

 

Home Improvement

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Well, I certainly didn’t plan to abruptly disappear into cyberspace, but holy heck, that’s what happened.  The short version: we closed on the house and commenced on a huge round of cleaning, painting, flooring, packing, and moving starting in early January.  Having never owned property before, I did not realize that all of this is really a much bigger undertaking that I had thought.

In two months, we have:

  • Replaced almost all of the upstairs flooring (it was ancient carpet, the previous owners had two large dogs and two cats, and we have allergies) and had professionals put in nice, water-resistant laminate
  • Painted three of the bedrooms ourselves to a nice, neutral warm cream color
  • Repainted a bunch of trim/doors in the upstairs ourselves
  • Had the kitchen and living room professionally painted as there were a lot of nooks and crannies that were going to be tough to do well ourselves (both were gray to begin with, which I know is really trendy right now, but it felt depressing to me – so now the kitchen is a very pale creamy yellow and the living room is a light sky blue)
  • Bought area rugs for bedrooms and the living room
  • New sofa and benches for the living room.
  • Installed various curtain rods
  • Packed up our old place
  • Hired and supervised movers for all the heavy furniture (we considered having friends/family help us, but we have a sleeper sofa that is horribly heavy plus a washer and dryer, and decided the risk of one of us throwing out a back was too high)
  • Replaced the dining area chandelier
  • Unpacked most of the bedrooms
  • Bought a guest bed

I love all of it, though!  It’s the first place we’ve lived that actually has felt like mine/ours.  There are a few less “fun” things to get done, such as hiring a handyman to get a little bit of the wooden siding on the front repaired now that the weather allows for it, but we’re making headway on that as well.

These days, we’re in the tough sort of “in-between” phase where we’re living in the new house but still cleaning out bits and pieces from our old apartment (our lease is up at the end of March).  We’re also unpacking and having a lot of those “wait, where is (fill in the blank)?!” moments.

Other than the moving/house, I’ve been reading Sheryl Sandburg’s Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy.  I have mixed feelings about it.  On the one hand, she has some really good advice about coping with life’s truly horrible moments and shares a lot of her personal story that I found moving and relatable.  On the other hand, it’s also very rah-rah, you can move through this, and kid/parenting heavy.  I found a lot of the advice about coping with an unexpected death like my brother’s good, but I know if I’d read this during my fertility struggles or when I was in the hospital expecting to lose my older daughter any day, I would have found a lot of it really frustrating.  I guess like most advice books, I’m taking what applies to me and leaving the rest.

I’m also finishing up Eve Schaub’s book Year of No Clutter and thoroughly enjoying it so far (though, be warned, near the end there is a chapter on sorting out her daughters’ baby things).  Schaub writes about her “Hell Room” – the largest room in her house that is so cluttered and full of stuff that she can barely get into it and so just closes the door.  As someone who firmly falls on the ‘packrat’ side of the clutter/decluttering continuum, even though I have not reached the point Schaub has, I still can relate to quite a few of the feelings Schaub discusses about dealing with “stuff”.  Schaub’s story about keeping a mummified dead mouse (!) because she wrote about it and now feels attached to it, however, was definitely not one of those moments (I hate, loathe, despise, and otherwise cannot stand dead critters in my living space).  When she talked about craft projects that she saves and never gets to but can’t bear to throw out however…well, my mind went guiltily to my fabric drawer, stuffed with un-finished sewing projects.  Given that we’re in the stage of trying to figure out what to keep and what to toss, though, reading the book has been a bit of a companion in the stress of trying to deal with the “but I might NEED IT SOMEDAY!” moments.

This post is part of Microblog Mondays – if you want to read more posts from other bloggers, head on over to Stirrup Queens!  Thanks to Mel for originating and hosting.

New Year, New House

We bought a house.

Not the beautiful old 1926 one.

I got in touch with the city engineer and confirmed the lead service line to the home was most likely intact.  While it’s worth noting that lead service lines are typically covered in scale that helps protect the water, there’s still a risk, especially if something changes with the water.  Arthur and I still, at that point were holding on to the idea of the house, but I went ahead and called the health department to find out what information they had on lead in the area and how to proceed.  The case worker on the other end paused.  Then she said: “Well, we haven’t been to that house.  But we’ve been on that street and there’s definitely lead.”

I listened as she carefully chose her next words.  “Sometimes historic houses aren’t the best for children that are as young as yours.”

The message came through loud and clear.  Don’t do this.

I talked to Arthur.  We emailed the realtor and decided to drop the house from our list.  It’s an amazing house, but there were so many major issues with it (furnace, AC needed replaced, we knew the electricity was probably outdated, and there were several other issues we knew about – all this prior to an inspection) and the lead was the final straw.  It was too much for us to take on at this point.

We started scouring the real estate listings again.  Two houses popped up on our radar in fairly short order.  Both were newer, one a 1986, the other a 1995.  They were in our desired location and we arranged to see both of them in one day.

We liked both houses and spent the rest of the day debating which one to offer on.  One had a daylight basement and the other had a basement but no windows, so we finally decided to offer on the daylight basement house.  Our realtor put in the offer and we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, our realtor called the listing realtor just before the offer was due to expire.  The other realtor was incredibly rude and said that we had offered far too low (reality check: we had offered around 3% under asking price) and they weren’t even going to counter.

“Forget it,” I told our realtor.  “We liked the other house just as much.  We spent the entire evening debating which one to make the offer on.”  No point in trying to work with a seller and listing agent who had no intention of taking us seriously and who, I suspected, could be trouble if the inspection turned up anything of note.

We immediately put in an offer on the other house.  The next morning, our realtor called us.  “Congratulations!” she told us.

The inspection turned up a few minor issues, but overall, it’s a good, solid house according to the inspector.  We’ve got the mortgage arranged.  It’s been a whirlwind few weeks, but we’re cleared to close, and looking forward to doing so just after the new year.  With a few minutes to breathe, now I’m hoping to catch up on my blog reading!

Now we’re onto the fun of picking paint colors and preparing to replace carpets with laminate floors…

Odds and Ends

A couple of weeks ago, E knocked my laptop off the coffee table accidentally.  In a freak sort of moment, it hit the corner of a heavy basket I keep next to the table and cracked the screen.  Since the crack didn’t affect the LCD part of the screen (it was a very surface crack), I groaned and figured I’d keep using the laptop for a bit while researching potential replacements and saving.

A few days later, M spit up directly into the keypad.  I turned it off immediately, wiped up what I could, and waited.  The laptop is mostly working now, but has some sticky keys and is clearly running even more obviously on borrowed time than before.  Arthur is researching alternatives and hopefully we’ll get one ordered in the next week or so before this laptop dies entirely.  I’m backing up all my files to the external hard-drive and getting ready to move my bookmarks and such before that happens.

It is telling that upon seeing the screen crack, my first thought was: well, this will most likely be less expensive to replace than two vials of foll.istim and definitely less expensive than a single IUI.

Infertility has clearly skewed my view of the term “expensive”.

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Life is in that busy but largely pleasant mode for the most part these days.  I’ve been back to work since mid-June, which is going well.  I enjoy what I do, so while I’m tired (trying to readjust to working nights is taking some time), it’s great to have a chance to interact with my coworkers and take on some projects.

Arthur and I got to go to a fundraiser for the local zoo on Friday with his parents and a couple of his siblings.  It’s a sort of local “taste and drink” deal, where many of the restaurants and catering companies in town set up booths with small portions and typically a signature drink or two.  Because I have a terrible sweet tooth, my favorite is the artisan chocolate company.  It was a lot of fun, made more so because the animals were far more active at night than they typically are during the day.

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E is almost finished with speech therapy.  We have one last session in September just to make sure she hasn’t regressed.  I’m not too worried at this point.  The other day, she walked up to me and started talking about the “botanical garden”.  Yep, with the word ‘botanical’ clearly pronounced.  We’ve come a long way from the 18 month who had what the speech therapist termed a “moderate to severe” speech delay.

She’s doing extremely well overall.  Still doing some physical therapy for a few motor issues, but we see improvement and hope that soon enough the gymnastics class I’ve got her enrolled in at our local YMCA will be enough.  We’re gearing up for a minor procedure for E in September due to congenital partially blocked tear ducts, but hopefully that will be her final surgery for the foreseeable future.

M is growing so fast!  Having a term baby after a very premature one is a totally different game.  She’s a happy, giggly baby who smiles and babbles a lot.  It’s strange not to be in a doctor’s office on a regular basis and to watch her outgrow clothes at an absolutely (to me) extraordinary rate.

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Arthur and I scheduled a consult with Dr. E to discuss our two remaining embryos.  We aren’t anywhere near ready to make a final decision, but we need information to make some of those decisions, time to potentially save up financially, and a discussion of what’s even possible or advisable at this point.

~*~

We’re starting to make appointments to prepare for a house purchase.  We’ve been looking at various neighborhoods, narrowed what we are looking for, and decided on a couple of financial institutions to talk to for the mortgage.  It’s both daunting and exciting to get to this point.

One Project Finished

May and June comprised one of the busiest periods I’ve had in a long while.  As my BSN program drew to close and deadlines ticked down, I found myself running around completing a sixty-five hour practicum class that involved setting up and then interviewing community leaders on my chosen topic as well as doing the research for my classes to prepare for papers.  June finished out with an absolute orgy of writing as I wrote three major capstone projects totaling over seventy pages.  It was, to say the least, completely exhausting.

However, it was also rewarding as I got the notice on Monday that my final paper passed and my advisor recommended me to receive my diploma!

When I decided to go for the BSN, I initially rolled my eyes a little.  I already have a BA (in English) and I figured this degree would be more of the same.  However, with more and more push for RNs working in hospital settings to have BSNs, I knew I needed to go ahead and get the degree.  Otherwise, I risked a situation where, if I ever found a position I wanted to pursue in another hospital system or my system changed rules or ownership, I might find myself either unable to apply for a different position or told that I needed to complete the BSN within a certain number of years.

I was surprised at how much I learned.  While I definitely had a head start since my degree in English had taught me a good bit about research and writing, in my new coursework, I learned how to really evaluate scientific research.  I also learned about statistics and worked through the steps of problem-solving in a nursing setting.

In short, I know I’m better at what I do thanks to earning this degree.  Eventually, when I’m ready, it will also set me up much better to complete masters’ level coursework.

At this point, I’m looking forward to catching up with reading blogs, commenting, and writing here a bit more often.  I’m hoping to watch the documentary “Vegas Baby” about the Sh.er Inst.itutes IVF contest when it comes to Net.flix and read Belle Boggs’ The Art of Waiting.  I recently finished Kate Hopper’s memoir Ready for Air about the premature birth of her daughter and D. Knight Smith’s Letters to Ellie.  I’ve been thinking about infertility and NICU quite a bit.  It’s as though suddenly I’m really starting to process some parts of the experience that perhaps I couldn’t when I was going through them.

Bittersweet

When E was about six months old, I organized and decorated her room.  It was, literally, the only room in the house at that time I’d managed to do anything in remotely resembling organization.  The whole project had gotten kicked off with me wailing at Arthur one day about how I “hadn’t even gotten to put together the nursery” before I’d gone into the hospital and then had been too busy in NICU to even try to deal with it.  From there, we’d had oxygen equipment for months (even after E had stopped needing oxygen, our doctors had us keep the equipment a bit longer just in case) and needed a place to put the apnea monitor.  All this meant that the room was beautifully arranged to fit the monitor and oxygen equipment, but not really optimally for living without them.  We’d recently gotten rid of both the oxygen compressor and the apnea monitor, but the room was, like the rest of the house, a mess.

To placate me, Arthur told me that I should let the rest of the house go for the time being and see if I could work up a way to make E’s room nice.  He’d help with as much as he could and also with the lifting/arranging of furniture.  We decided to make a little bit of room in our budget to get a few things to decorate the room as well.

One day, I found a neat collage frame at a store.  It held six photos, organized around a central photo.  It was a little more expensive than we wanted, but I couldn’t resist.  I bought it and eventually put a photo of E in the center with a picture of us, one of my parents, one of Arthur’s family, one of the twin cousins once they were born, and one of my brother and his girlfriend in the outside frames.  It’s one of my favorite parts of E’s room.

As E has learned to talk and recognize people, Arthur started explaining who the people were in the frames when he was getting E dressed in the mornings.  Or so I found out when E startled me one morning by pointing up at the picture of my brother and announcing, “Unca E-!”

It wasn’t that I minded at all, in fact, it was lovely and I am really glad that Arthur is teaching E who the people in the frames are to her.  It was more that I wasn’t expecting it and it took me off guard for a moment.  I treasured the moment and didn’t think about it again for awhile.

A few weeks ago, I got some photos from my mother that I asked her for and downloaded from her phone, a whole mishmash starting at the beginning of E’s life.  As I was going through them, I found one that made me stop and stare, one I hadn’t been entirely certain existed.  E was born about seven months before my brother died.  He saw her once in NICU and then once in September of 2015.  Only during that September visit did he get to hold her.  At the time, it didn’t seem extremely noteworthy.  I didn’t know if anyone had snapped a photo.

There it was, though.  E hurried over, took one look at the photo and went “Unca E-“.  She made me go back to the photo several times as I scrolled through the folder, even trying to use the touchscreen on my laptop to go back to look at it anytime I’d try to move forward.

It was beautiful and so, so d*mn sad at the same time.

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