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Random Thoughts

in Advocacy, Latest

The Perks of Parenthood?


I’ve been working in education and childcare, officially and unofficially, for the past twelve years.  Aside from my personal love of books, it is what drove me to become a a youth services librarian.  My interest and love for youth engagement and academic achievement is something that is behind most every decision and viewpoint that I have.  Because of this, it is often even rougher to not be a parent. Rougher still when people make distinctions.

It is the conundrum of being Parental, but not a Parent.

In three different situations last week, I was faced with the sometimes blunt dismissal and division of the childless, child”free”, etc.  I figured I should explore them.  So here we go:

in Latest

Random Thoughts…

Some things on my mind today.  You may or may not agree or like them.  But then…this is my blog, right?  Right.
My list:
  • My Husband turned 30 this week. (Happy Birthday Dude!)…and with that birthday went any possibility of his being a dad “in his 20’s”.
  • I’m sure that in the top 12 thoughts of all people who discover their infertility, is the phrase: “And to think of all the money I spent on condoms!”Photobucket
in Latest

How I Came By My Dog…and what I learned from her.


The great IF can be extremely lonely.  Even for those of us fortunate enough to have a supportive partner or spouse, it can often feel like one of the most isolating experiences one has ever had the misfortune of enduring.  For my husband and I, it sometimes became more divisive when we were actively “trying” than when we were casually planning.  He felt like I was obsessing, and I felt like he wasn’t obsessing enough.   Eventually, things just get to a real low point.

Two years ago, we hit that point.

Try as he might, and he did try, my poor dude just couldn’t cheer me up.  I was uncomfortable in my own skin and unhappy with the amount of failures that were piling up for us reproductively.  And as cliche as it seems, I was suddenly overcome with the desire to take care of something.  To feel important and necessary.

We went out looking for a dog.

in Hissues, Infertility, Menorrhagia, PCOS

Private Parts


Back when I was still engaged, a fellow bride shared some wisdom from one of her elder family members.   It was a list of things every new wife should do to keep house.   There, nestled alongside gems like “Never go to bed angry”, was this little nugget,

“Your husband should never know when you are having your feminine time.  Keep those things private!”

Oh really?  Well whoopdee freakin do.  What stellar advice.  With tips like these, who needs Dear Abby?

in Hissues, Latest



I’m in an awkward, awkward state of affairs at the moment.

While most bloggers and writers suffer from writer’s block and the feeling of having “nothing to say”, I’m feeling quite the opposite, but with similar results.  Not only do I have things to say, but I have too many things to say.  There are tons of tales and stories of the epic battle between my feelings and my progress, as well as a few scandalous rants that I just want to unleash.  Yet, I spend the wee hours of the morning writing to you about what I want to write, rather than just writing it.  Odd, huh?

You're Still Talking?

It is often hard for me to find clarity when my thoughts overlap and interfere with each other, and I’d rather not subject you to that.  Truthfully, I’m becoming a bit unnerved by the amount of things that I’m subjecting mySELF to. LOL  The transparency for which this blog has gained its momentum is not as easy a feat to uphold as some may think.  It is dreadfully hard for me to decide what to share boldly, and what to let fester in the corners of my mind for fear that I’ll run you guys all away.

For instance,

in Latest

Musical Therapy: Ledisi – This Christmas


So many songs are written as love songs but can very well fit into an infertility playlist.  While some of them bring tears to my eyes, they are also healing for me.  I’ve decided to start sharing those gems with you guys.  First up on my list, and perfect…

in Latest

Dear Preggo…STFU. Signed, Mgmt.


I don’t know that pregnant women understand the work that goes into trying to be genuinely happy for them sometimes. We stifle all our feelings and sadness trying to do our best to put on a happy face and think about the bigger picture. Then they go and %$& it…