A day (or two or three) in the life of...

So, I figure that it's safe to blog on here about the whole 'trying to get pregnant' business because, well, only a few people every see this blog anymore and it's not a huge secret but it's not something I feel like talking w/many people about. At all. At least not outloud.  So, here goes:  After 2 painful (emotionally and obviously physically) ectopic pregnancies in the last couple attempts at getting preggers, we were told that our best bet would be to go through IVF.  After some research and much talking about selling our organs in order to go through with this, we decided to go with GIVF in Fairfax.  We started the whole process in late March and are finally really getting into the fun stuff. Testing's all be done to make sure we're viable candidates for IVF and we got amazeballs results to the testing, if I say so myself. The Sonogram technician and Dr. marveled at the perfection that is my uterus. Uh huh ((double snap and neck swerve)), tha's righ...

So, I've always been paranoid. Not sure what prompted this characteristic in me but it's brutal. I think people are out to get me. My dreams have always screamed this. Sometimes I can fight back in my dreams but mostly I'm a solid victim, which I think contributes to my lack of confidence in general in life. I mean, if I'm always being beat down and/or killed in my dreams, it just can't help but carry over. I'll have to work w/my therapist on how to overcome that (there's a bigger list of things to address though and believe it or not, that's not at the top). So, poor Cowboy.  I woke him up one night last week with one of my episodes. I apparently (please keep in mind, I was dreaming so I was dead asleep here) kept whispering that there was someone in the house and when he didn't get up, I said it more urgently so his nekked ass hops up, flips on the light (as I'm still in mostly unconscious dream state). When he did that so suddenly, I didn...

Well, just when I felt I was right back on track and 2 lbs away from hitting my stinkin' goal weight, I get derailed from working out and led right into food temptation for an extended amount of time. In my next life, I'm going to be naturally skinny and that is that. ((crossing arms and pouting))  So, last week, I started my Hospice Volunteering Training.  After all these fun background checks and recommendations, I got the OK to be able to become a volunteer with Capital Hospice and in order to volunteer in Patient Care, you have to go through a certain number of hours of training on patient care, bereavement, spirituality (because it comes up a lot with folks who are at the end of their physical journey), safety, emotional support, etc... I can't complain about that though since it's actually been a really good experience.  Only thing is, it's been in the evenings, this week and last week and it's taken over my gym time.  My stoopid gym only stays open ...