Monday, May 13, 2013

May The Miscarriage Be With You

It.  Is.  Monday.

I can sense that everyone's weekend was full of glitter and unicorn farts, a weekend of riding a rainbow that shits chocolate and moonbeams. My Facebook/Fertilebook (why am I on this thing?  And why am I not friends with every single one of you on there?  I need some infertile homies) was just full to the brim with "your life just doesn't have meaning until you've pushed something out of your body" quotes.  I comfort myself a little thinking that maybe the occasional kidney stone/episode of diarrhea qualifies me some meaning.

Now before I go on to depress you horribly all the way from my 10,000 degree backyard in Los Angeles (it's like trying to write something meaningful wearing trash bags in an oven in Hades) one brief glimmer of awesomeness from my Saturday.

I met two blogging infertiles, live and in person, and forced them in addition to their own plates to split a 90 gajillion calorie red velvet pancake with me.  (I just admitted I write from Hades, what do you want from me?  If the price on it was $5 or your soul to spend eternity in this kind of heat, the thing still has to be eaten otherwise gravity will reverse itself).

I met this gorgeous piece of ass, JenS.  She is a few months pregnant with twins.  She claims to be a few months pregnant with twins but is clearly about two years pregnant with a small litter (and still tinier everywhere else on her body than I am.... You can begin to see why I had to push for the red velvet pancake, yes?).  She is adorable and lovely and is deluding herself into believing that there are only two in there.  Either her Doctor has been lying to her or my gift of impregnating people immediately upped the ante upon her entering my gravitational pull, but there's a third one if not a seventh one in there, I'mma tellin' ya.  How do I know this?  I poked the bump.  I poked it fast and hard because that's how I roll.

I also met this delightful little strumpet, Kharini.  Girlfriend is like a tiny mysteriously international pixie of your very own, my personal infertile Penelope Cruz.  She is approximately twenty pounds of giggles and upon meeting her you spend about 75% of your time loving her and 25% of your time wondering if you should be drinking her blood a-la-Charlize-Theron as snow white's evil stepmother to maybe get some of her youth and sparkle.  It should also be said that I am very susceptible to accents.  Had she told me, with her accent, to jump off a bridge and into a gulley I would be writing to you drenched in cool water instead of my own sweat.  Five seconds of any form of accent apart from mine and my bug eyes are hypnotized to the point of stupidity.


Seeing as how Father's day has been a shitfest for me for the last ten years (dead Dad, dead Father-in-law) I have previously gotten off Mother's day injury free.  I, of course, have understood for years why it's a shitfest for most infertiles, but every year have somehow surprised myself in my numbness.  I evidently patted myself on the back for this too soon.

Yesterday I was once again doing fine, and then through a series of totally normal statements made when I went behind the orange curtain yesterday to make my lovely mother and sassy grandmother dinner, I started to feel it.

The statements - we were talking about how much money Bub and I spend on coffee.  (We go to Starbucks everyday - the $$ is horrendous for sure). We were joking around and my sister quite innocently said "with that money it's either coffee or a baby!"

If you have met a Mexican from orange county, CA, I am related to them.  My family is huge.  My Grandma has a hallway with each of her grandchildren's graduation photos.  She was talking about how in front of those photos, she was going to put pictures of their babies.  (So my photo will have... dogs?  A cat?  Kidney stones?)

Perfectly innocent, harmless no-foul statements that ended up digging into me like tiny little daggers.

By the time Bub and I got in the car to go home, I turned to him and was like "man, I feel like shit a little bit".

Now - the downside to being a never-ending dancing bear (which I enjoy being, it's my charm) and occasionally being viewed as freakishly strong because of it, is that when you do have a meltdown of any kind for the most part it's such a jarring experience for witnesses that they have absolutely no idea what to do. It would be like if I got in the car, turned to Bub, opened my mouth and a leprechaun popped out. It's mostly just disconcerting.

90 minutes later we're home, his silence has flustered me, I get in the shower and have a good cry.  (This is maybe a twice a year event). I pull my shit together because that's what I do best (healthy or not be damned, apparently).

Now I have been running from this day and making jokes for a solid 4 years in a row and it has worked.  So I started trying to figure out why this year I crumbled... It's the first Mother's Day since I had my early miscarriage.  In some parallel universe that's absolutely irrelevant (because it doesn't exist), but nonetheless bothersome to me I would have a two month old and this would've been the first time the day didn't exist just to celebrate my Mom.

Bub would have inevitably forgotten about the day until Saturday, and ran out to get some leftover sad flowers on Sunday morning.  Maybe I would've talked him into making bacon and tomato pasta (even worse for you and more delicious than a red velvet pancake).  We would've gotten snippy with each other not over harmless comments but over strapping a kid into the back of our Batmobile for an hour and a half.  I'd feel self conscious because I'd still have baby weight on, but I would've been prepared for a photo because I would've wanted a picture of four generations.

It just woulda shoulda coulda been a different day... but it wasn't. And I know with 100% certainty that in theory it's absolutely pointless to even let those kind of thoughts in my head because parallel universes are irrelevant.  If we want to go playing that game, in a parallel universe I could be a billionaire who weighs 80 lbs and shits diamonds.  No sense in crying over that not being true.

I think it was also, in part, because the last few weeks I've been seeing miscarriages referenced everywhere.

Maybe you'll agree with me here, I just think it's funny that prior to finding myself umbrellaless in an infertility shitstorm, I could've maybe referenced one movie or tv show where there was any infertility.  Now I notice them all over the place.

I love Frida Kahlo (anyone who has those eyebrows and says "fuck it, this is me" and bags Josephine Baker is a hero in my book).  I love all of her art and her whole style.  A couple of weeks ago I had dreams about Mexico City (where I once lived) and the next evening I decided to re-watch "Frida" for the first time in many years.

I had seen the movie several times before, I have seen this painting a million times before... just not since dealing with infertility.

(Source).

Somehow, despite having loved her for so long and having read about her years ago not to mention seeing this movie a dozen times, that part of her life didn't get filed in the "keep this" part of my brain. Suffice it to say this time it struck me.

Naturally this time after seeing it, I tried to find information on that part of her life and came up with this. Read it, I'm telling you.

When she was going through infertility, she wrote beautiful and frank letters back and forth with her Doctor, and her friend.  She was married to Diego Rivera and wanted desperately to have his child and it just would never be.  What got me about the article is that a lot of her personal items are on display at a badass museum in Mexico, and all of her work is very painful and autobiographical... but these letters that she wrote about her infertile experience, even after Diego Rivera died he left instructions that they were not to be shared for years and years after his death (and obviously, hers).  I'm fascinated by the fact that she put everything of herself out there in her art and for people to see (which is why I love her), and yet how hurt she was about not having children was something she felt was HERS.

Last weekend when I was up in the mountains with my Mom, we watched DVDs in our cabin.  One we watched was "Julie & Julia".  (Love the movie... Have different feelings about the book I'm sorry to say).

ANYHOO.  As we all know Meryl Streep (legal name I'm sure is "Meryl Fucking Streep, Ya'll") plays Julia Child.  The last time I saw this movie must have been right before boarding the train to Infertileville.

Julia Child wanted children and it never happened.  There are a couple of small moments in the movie where she passes a baby carriage and has to brace herself. There was one part in particular I must have seen before but again didn't file in the 'keep this' part of my brain.

Julia Child gets a letter from her sister announcing that she's pregnant.  She bursts into tears (Meryl Fucking Streep, Ya'll) and while sobbing manages to blurt out "I'm just so happy!".  Her husband just puts his arm around her and solemnly says "I know".

Two seconds in an otherwise pretty fluffy movie, but I thought 'wow... I've played out some variation of this scene a million times'.  (MFS, Y).

So yes, this year Mother's Day managed to knock me down for once... somehow my one miscarriage has made dancing-bear impossible a few days of the year.

After I had my tears in the shower and started thinking about why this year there are tears.. I thought about my miscarriage, these miscarriage references I've seen the last couple of weeks that probably put my tears into motion, and about Saturday, meeting a couple of real life, in the flesh, badass infertiles.

And I was comforted.  I had a good solid three hours of feeling nothing but horribly sorry for myself, and then I found comfort.  I'm comforted because I'm not the only one who is not a Mother's day fan.  I'm comforted because the occasional burst of tears is good for the soul.  I'm comforted because women are not just expressing their feelings on the subject now, but have been doing so long before computers through art and through handwritten letters.  I'm comforted because I now live in a time when all I have to do is pop online and find thousands of other women shaking their fists and rolling their eyes in May.  Most of all I'm comforted because if you're going to be in the shitty Mother's day club, at least we can say what a bunch of badass, fascinating bitches to be in a club with.


45 comments:

  1. This made me laugh! I actually have more infertile friends that I have never met on FB than I do friends from HS or college!

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    1. THAT'S WHAT I NEED. Evidently all of my HS/College friends have joined some sort of secret fertility science experiment where they're all 'accidentally' pregnant with twins. I CRY SHENANIGANS.

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  2. I for one, think you are a real badass, fascinating bitch that I wish I knew in real life. I actually never knew that information about Frida and now it makes me want to, I don't know, hang one of her freaking pictures in my house of something. I always find it interesting learning about how history has addressed infertility. Great post!

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    1. First, come to me I will lick your face.

      Second, OMG YOU SHOULD. I don't know what it is about her paintings I feel like I knew her in a past life. We should all be wallpapering our houses with the works of infertiles.

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  3. I have not seen Julia and Julia, but boy do I relate to that scene. I, too, see infertility references all over now. Things that before I blindly walked past. They always stop me dead in my tracks. I'm glad you had a good cry and still came around to find a dancing bear. xoxo

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    1. All over the place! All over!

      The only one I could've really mentioned before being infertile was Friends.. (Which is now HILARIOUS. Phoebe takes a pregnancy test two hours after she has her transfer, Monica & Chandler each have one infertility test and immediately move on to adoption. My head explodes).

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  4. Well, if you feel brave enough, you can certainly befriend me on Facebook (just email me for details). But I'll warn you right now that I post too many dog pictures and play A LOT of Candy Crush.

    I think crying on Mother's Day is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. I've done it many, many times. And even being almost on the other side of things, I still can't feel very excited about it. The only thing I enjoy about it is doing something special for my mom (which, let's face it, I should be doing every single day). What got me the most this year was thinking about one of my dearest friends who is still stuck in the middle of IF hell. She should be pregnant along with me, but she isn't. And it makes me so fucking angry and sad that she isn't. I'm sure my anger and sadness are nothing compared to hers. So...blah. I couldn't help but feel that Mother's Day is still mostly a big ball of suck.

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    1. I'm going to message you. I'M GOING TO MESSAGE YOU SO HARD.

      I know.. It has to be normal. When other people do it I'm like "you're doing awesome!" and really my weird crying this is me just being chicken shit. Just for some reason when I cry I think "Now what?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! Why is my face contorting?! When does it end, EVER?!" Me = chickenshit.

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  5. I laugh, I cry. This is why I love you. Sorry for your no good, very bad day. Sometimes, I think we all just need to have a good cry and let it all out and then go back out and face the world.
    Meeting you ladies this weekend was so awesome. If you ever need to find me again, I'll probably just be spending every weekend in line for red velvet pancakes. I can't decide if I love you or hate you for introducing me to that restaurant.
    I remember that scene from Julie & Julia. I remember thinking "Yup, that's about right". Infertility was a brief story line on Downton Abbey and my husband and I just looked at each other like "really?" We thought we were safe with that one.
    I did not know that about Frida Kahlo. I want to read those Frida letters. But I also have to read fake cancer blogs. There aren't enough hours in the day!

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    1. Ohhh you should probably hate me. They put crack or something in their food that makes you want to wait in their horrendous line and eat whatever they tell you to.. Ideally off the butt of one of their waiters...

      Downton Abbey. Is this something I should be watching or is it going to make me fall asleep?

      YOU HAVE SO MUCH ONLINE READING TO DO.

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    2. Downton Abbey is awesome. Though the infertility storyline was a joke...

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  6. I'm sorry the day was tough for you. And yes, it definitely does come out of the woodwork!

    I was fortunate that we walked away from infertility with our son (and recently walked right back into it hoping for a second) but I made sure to post on FB, not about being a mother, but about how my heart goes out to all my friends who have lost their mother's, lost their children, or are still waiting for them. The day is so emotionally charged for so many.

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    1. You're my hero... Bless you for wording it like that.

      I dipped a teeny, tiny infertile toe out of the closet on facebook yesterday I think... I mean nothing cray-cray (seeing as how I'm a giant chicken shit afraid of people feeling sorry for me). But just, you know, 'I'm thinking about my badass Mom, the people who have lost babies, the not-yet Moms, the people who have lost their Mom'... Etc.

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  7. I remember that scene in Julie & Julia like I saw it yesterday, it was EXACTLY how I've felt so many times. Exactly. It hit home so deeply...

    So awesome to have met you! I shall copy and paste your description of me into my resume for future references, LOL. You are absolutely hilarious!

    Big hugs to you and my sincere wishes that next Mother's Day will be completely different than yesterday. Remember, I have your gift too! You will get pregnant! There is no exception to the rule!

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    1. I'm going to make you a shirt that says "mysteriously international pixie". I will find a way, damnit.

      Maybe our knocking-people-up-gifts will benefit one another...

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  8. Ok, you MUST write a book and have it published! I'm totally addicted to your blog stalker style and I just found you today.

    Isn't that some crazy shit how much stuff you notice now. It's really crazy when it starts happening to a significant other too. I figure if it's now happening to my husband as well, we've really been at this too long. And yeah, how on earth infertile women survived before the internet, I do not know.

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    1. SHUT YOUR MOUTH I WILL KISS YOU WHERE YOU STAND.

      I have NO idea how infertile women survived pre-internet.. I feel like you just start collecting porcelain cats and get yourself a drinking problem ASAP.

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  9. Man, after I realized I was infertile, it seemed like infertility was coming at me from EVERYWHERE. The worst was the random-ass infertility storyline in the shit-fest that was "Prometheus"...spoiler alert, but it apparently makes it more dramatic to give birth to an alien baby after you've previously been infertile. FFS! Otherwise, may I say that I'm extremely jealous of your infertile get-together AND the red velvet pancakes. I don't know which I would have liked more.

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    1. Prometheus? REALLY?!

      Okay that's on my no-watch list.

      Funny story - when I was going through IVF I decided to cheer myself up with some Pixar. Someone gave me a copy of "Up" a long time ago and I had NO idea what the movie was about. IT SHOULD COME WITH A FREAKING WARNING LABEL.

      And yes you should be jealous and salivating.

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  10. We may be soul sisters...I love Frida! so much...I just saw a once-in -a-lifetime exhibit of 52 pieces of her and Diego's work in the ATL and it is soooooo amazing in person. Her life is something out of a Lifetime movie..you can't make this shit up. She was beautiful.

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    1. WE ARE SOUL SISTERS.

      I have yet to see an exhibit of hers in the US but I've been to her blue house in Mexico City. ;)

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  11. I just love your blog posts. You are an amazing writer AND funny all at once. How do you do that? Anyhow, I didn't remember either of those references (Frida or Julia) and yet when you brought them up, they jumped back into my mind. Isn't it interesting how things don't stick?

    I'm sorry you were in the reality you were in this weekend instead of the one that "could be." But I AM happy you girls celebrated with red velvet pancakes! Have you noticed EVERYTHING in LA is red velvet? When I got married no one had even heard of red velvet and thought my cake was SO cool (btw I didn't get married in LA) and now it's everywhere. I actually had red velvet TEA the other day. Wow, I think I just went off on a red velvet rant.

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    1. COME TO ME I WILL KISS YOUR FACE.

      Am I to interpret this as you are IN L.A.? Why did I not know this? I am horrible at keeping track of people evidently.

      Iiiii had never even had red velvet until that damnable and addicting pancake.

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    2. Haha! Yes, I'm in LA. On the west side. I think there are quite a few of us actually. We should do a big bloggie date. With red velvet...something.

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  12. Agree with Emily...book! And I've totally been blog-stalking for months. File this away as a business idea...Find people that need to write an intro/description about themselves (maybe for their own book jacket) but are not funny/creative enough to do so. You meet them for a meal and then YOU write their intro. I want to meet you right now and see what hilarious string of adjectives come to your mind afterwards.

    I've never seen Frida...but couldn't resist the urge to DVR "Baby Momma"....I know...I avert my eyes in shame.

    And of course...so sorry that mothers day sucked!

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    1. Thank you gorgeous! Mother's day blows. IT BLOWS I SAY.

      And you shut your mouth and get over here and let me whisper things moistly into your ear. HA. My gift of description can be disconcerting. My husband's biggest pet peeve is when people ask me why I think a certain food is gross because I WILL TELL THEM.

      Watch Frida. It's amazeballs... And I may or may not own a copy of Baby mama.

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  13. Love this post. I'd never seen that Frida Kahlo painting. Wow. Thanks for sharing. About the being strong thing...I totally know what you mean. I play superwoman all the time that when I finally break down or realize that hey, I'm not REALLY superwoman, no one understands. It's always the "you handle things so well" or "if anyone can do it, you can" or "you'll get through this because you're you." Ok...well can I not be me for a little bit then? Can someone just let me not be strong? I don't think Sparks knows how to handle me when I'm not strong.

    Anyways...love your blog :)

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    1. Thank you gorgeous!

      YES. I completely get misinterpreted as being superwoman when really I think my bodies freakish ability to numb itself out is the equivalent of seeing a spider in my house and then seconds later creating a Jenny-shaped-hole in a wall as I flee from it.

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  14. Firstly I love you lady!! You are awesome beyond words and I am so sorry this mother's day should have been you with a baby. The day is over now and I hope that next year it will be a different story for you.
    And your mother's day FB post was awesome. I was going to post something similar when it was UK mother's day but i lost my nerve. Go you! I can't believe I haven't filled my facebook with infertiles before this past weekend!! So much better!
    As for Frida, I was actually studying Spanish at University when I was diagnosed. The semester after I found out about MRKH I studied central and south american history of art as a module, Frida being one of the most prominent in the curriculum, and the one that stuck in my mind. Ever since I have loved and wept over her work as so much of it reflected my own experiences of disappointment in my body for its complete failure to do what should be natural, if slightly different contexts. She is awesome, and that picture you have here, makes me cry every time i see it.
    Smooches to you my dear.

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    1. I LOVE her. I love her SO SO MUCH. And you. AND YOU. Infertiles in my newsfeed = life so much better.

      Yeah I wanted to post SOMETHING on facebook.. I'm completely chicken shit thus far about posting anything that says "hey, I'm infertile, bitches" and am in TOTAL awe of the women who have done that.. Mostly because I think the appropriate response will be some sort of sympathy and I am SO messed up about that that it will cause me to short circuit. I figure I'd say something vague, just about all the kinds of Mothers and then if someone put two and two together, so be it.

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  15. I feel ya on the miscarriage references all over the goddamn place. This weekend I was watching Sweet Home Alabama of all movies, and there it was, this 5-minute scene where they talk about the baby that never was, and how it might have changed their relationship if the baby would've survived, and how Reese was happy it didn't because then she wouldn't have gone to NYC and become this famous designer, etc... BITCH! I was looking for an escape watching this movie, NOT a reminder! sigh...I guess this is our life as infertiles - constant reminders of what we can't have.

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    1. In SWEET HOME ALABAMA? I think I saw that movie once.. Totally don't remember it. Et tu, Reese? ET TU?

      It just makes it impossible now.. They only ever sneak it into movies and shows in five second increments, really, and evidently from now on for me that will be my whole movie experience.

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  16. Mother's Day is weird for everyone, even the pregnant infertile. I remember last year I was just a couple weeks pregnant, and my mom and mother in law wanted to get me something....I put my foot down. Maybe I knew deep down that that pregnancy was not going to work, since we lost him at 9 weeks. But even this year being 32 weeks pregnant on Mother's Day I couldn't celebrate it,l was way too afraid. It's so painful....my husband scolded me because I was sick of all the Mother's Day crap on Facebook. It bothered me so much. Like I said that pain never goes away. I'm so glad you had that cry, they are so much needed. I think so many of us don't really allow ourselves to actually embrace all the pain we are feeling through infertility, and bury it. But man when it comes out...it comes out. I hope you have a few more of them, because they are so good for the soul.
    I love that painting. It's so haunting in a beautiful way. I had no idea she struggled with infertility. But what a beautiful way to get her feeling across.
    I want to be your Facebook buddy!!!! Look me up....Bethany Kenyon Miertschin....LA😜

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    1. I FOUND YOU. I am Jenny. My picture is black and white. I am in a giant chair.

      She did struggle with it! No idea how I missed it the first time I saw that movie.. (I mean obviously I saw it it just didn't stick). She was in an accident when she was young (that caused her a lot of health problems) and her uterus was essentially.. impaled, basically.

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  17. Oh, I for SURE remember that scene with Meryl Streep... so poignant and perfect. It should be some kind of touchstone for all future movies that ever have any moment that reflects on infertility. Like, "Do this. Only this. And don't fuck it up." Also, hire Meryl Fucking Streep, Y'all (obvy).

    For some reason I never found Mother's Day difficult because the concept of myself being a mother is still so foreign to me -- it's only ever been about my own mother, who I have a great relationship with. But also, my husband lost his mother 10 years ago and my good friend is estranged from hers, so I'm just SO aware of how difficult this day is for SO many people, I almost just turn my focus to them instead. But I also wonder how our hubbies feel on Father's Day when they think about how long it's taking them to become a dad themselves... surely it sucks almost as much for them.

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    1. That's how I was until this year! No biggie, I have a Mom.. that'll be Mother's day.

      And Father's day.. Yeah that's our real shit storm every year, we just sort of gloss over it because we both lost our Dads. But good point, I wonder if that's a deal for them.. (I'm sure it is at least to some degree...)

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  18. Love this post! And is that your Boston terrier? Super cute!

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    1. Ha! No I wish. A well behaved small dog... I WISH. I have a badass corgi and a batshit insane husky.

      That dog is from here, which made me DIE LAUGHING:

      http://www.buzzfeed.com/mattbellassai/animals-that-cannot-even-handle-it-right-now

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    2. Thanks for sharing that hilarious website! I love how many pugs there are in that list. :) And I checked out your pics of your doggies; they are super cute.

      If IVF fails, I'm totally going to turn into a crazy dog lady!

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  19. Julie and Julia is my favorite movie. I've watched it a freakish amount of times and always feel such a bond with her in those scenes. Love her.

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    1. Meryl Fucking Streep... Meryl Fucking Streep.

      (Have you read the book? I'm curious to see what other people think of it..)

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  20. I love you. I love that dog, too, but in a different kind of way ;).

    Those scenes from Julie & Julia break my heart to even just think about them. I wonder if people on the other side even "get" what's going on, there. Probably not.

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    1. Smoooooooch. I hope in the way towards me you are hinting at something deeply sexual.

      Call me cynical but I'm gonna say probably not. Considering I didn't even notice this sort of thing, apparently, even right after I started on the crazy train... Fertiles? nahhhh..

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