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I've never been that great at managing my calendar. Usually when I make a new commitment, it goes something like this: I have a mini-moment of excitement over it, vow to lock it in my memory (because, you know, it's so important that I couldn't possibly forget about it so why bother writing it down), and then resume whatever activity I was already doing. The problem is I have supremely crappy short-term memory. So things inevitably get forgotten. Like ICLW.
So I forgot that ICLW fell during Thanksgiving week. And I forgot that we were taking the week off to drive to Washington to be with relatives. And I forgot that I don't have a laptop. (Actually, that last point I didn't so much forget as just fail to acknowledge.)
What I'm trying to say is this: I screwed up. If I didn't leave you a comment during ICLW it's because I didn't leave anyone a comment, and I didn't leave anyone a comment because I didn't read any blogs, and I didn't read any blogs because I was stuffing turkey and playing Scattergories. Bottom line: My bad, and I apologize. If you still left my sorry-ass a comment, then thank you; you're a better woman than I. Now if you'll excuse me I've got a ton of catching up to do.
Seven months is an awful long time to let a blog collect dust. I literally had to claw my way thru the muck to find it, buried deep beneath a huge pile of illegible 1s and 0s. I started this thing 2 years ago with the best intentions, but like many things in my life, it eventually got neglected. Sometimes it's the same way with TTC. I'll go months where I'm all about the healthy living, acupuncture, and prenatal vitamins. Then I'll get so discouraged and just say to-hell-with-it-all and break open the nearest bottle of tequila. Such has been my margarita-marinated summer.
But it hasn't been all parties and rock salt. You see, our goal for the past several months has been to raise money for the Last Bastion of ART: the donor egg cycle. This alone has taken much discipline, patience, and heartache, considering we needed to save $30,000. Let me repeat that figure for those of you out there cuddling your free babies: thirty-thousand dollars. Our child isn't even a zygote in a petrie dish yet and we've already spent his first year's college tuition.
But please don't let me get all caught up in my pitty-party, because we all know that is a slippery slope and I'm wearing banana peels for shoes. **INSERT DEEP CLEANSING BREATH HERE**.
Instead, I'd like to elaborate on how exciting this process is for me. For the first time in 6 years, I feel like getting pregnant is actually a true possibility, instead of just a far-off pipe dream. My donor is picked. I'm on birth control pills, and our cycles are coordinating across state lines. My RE actually asked me which hospital I'd like to deliver in. As in a baby. She says I've got to start thinking about these things because SOON I WILL BE PREGNANT.
It's time to dust off the ole optimism and leave the neglect for the tequila shooters.
