A Goodbye.

Who knew that saying goodbye to a car would be so hard for me. I remember when I wrote this post. Declaring my love for a certain minivan. A MINIVAN. Then I realized the amount of miles and shitty gas mileage that went along with it weren't going to be good enough for a photographer who spends a lot of Saturdays in the summer driving all over Ohio. So we got a second car, one that was good on gas and began driving that almost all the time.

We took the van to the beach in September because of the video screens and the room and comfort but that was about the last big trip she's been on. Fast forward to now, there have been a lot of changes in our life lately and one thing we agreed on was that it was probably best if we ditched the gas-guzzling van for a smaller SUV, one that gets at least 30 mpg. Well, that is happening this week and I spent about 15 minutes just.sitting.in.the.van yesterday. Looking around, imaging the 1-2 more kids I had planned on hauling around in there for the next 7-10 years.

I guess letting go of the van is in a way symbolic of me letting go of that dream of having 3 kids and accepting that fact that one more is about all we can handle at this point. Neither of us wants to put me through this again. But I won't stop until I can fill *both* of those seats in the new car.

Well that was a while...

I meant to write more, I really did but with having your own photography business where you offer family and children sessions means Christmas photos and YIKES. Busy. Not a bad problem to have.

Especially when you need something, anything to take the focus off that you are in fact, still not pregnant. Of course since my last post, I did go in for my blood work. Did find out I'm not pregnant and did hyperstimulate, which despite being a super fun word to say, is not fun whatsoever. In fact, I probably wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

Evidently, there was some evidence of a possible ovulation, but with LUF syndrome, that can be deceiving. Either way, it didn't work. I'm hesitant to go forward towards IVF, and the RE is back peddling a little saying that he thinks there are some protocol changes he can try with me that may help us to avoid IVF. 

Either way, last cycle (the one after the hyperstim) was of course a BCP cycle to get my ovaries to calm the eff down. And this new cycle that I am about to begin will be an un-medicated, un-monitored, non-anythingpregnancyrelatedbecauseitsChristmas cycle. At least December, perhaps and probably January as well...maybe February? Maybe forever? I honestly don't know if I can do all of that to my body again even if it means to continue to live a life where every morning I ask myself if I can hold it together just for today. Can I? Yes. Keep going.

I'm getting to a point where I am starting to think that maybe God gave me a perfect, amazing, smart little boy in Mason because He knew it would be all I would get.

*KnockKnockKnock* Anyone there?

I don't know if anyone checks this blog anymore. Or if it even exists on any one's blog feed or whatever but I have decided to come back because I miss writing about my life and Mason and there is just so much FUN going on right now I can't stand it. Oh and I need a place to keep track of all the FUN because sometimes it blurs together.

Remember when I wrote this post? It's dated August 2010 and I came out about us trying to have another baby and blah blah blah. We had started trying about 2-ish months before so go ahead and do the math....
....I'll wait....
...........
..............
Yes. Approximately 16 months. No baby. See what I mean? FUN!!!11!1!

To hypothesize, I'll go ahead an do a quick little run-down and write more elaborate, detailed SUPERFUN blog posts later so I don't forget this experience because...whoa.
June2010-May2011: lots of trying...nothing.
May2011: Visit OB/GYN - prescribed Clomid, nothing.
June2011: Prescribed Clomid again by OB/GYN, gets head out of ass and realizes they are playing a game of "here! try this! it might work be we won't know because we don't monitor you or anything!" Call fertility clinic.
July2011: Visit fertility clinic and meet RE (reproductive endocrinologist) for the first time. Love the shit out of him. He runs all kinds of tests and monitors to see how my clomid is working (psst it is) and really doesn't find anything wrong but some suspected PCOS. But still...nothing.
August2011: Upped Clomid dosage plus IUI, I produce two great follicles but....nothing. Two cysts from Clomid discovered. Must take a month off and use birth control pills to shrink the cysts. Given the option between $$injectables$$ or something like Clomid (which is now thinning my lining, drying up cervical mucous and just generally not working) for the next cycle.
September2011: Birth Control Pills break. Decide on injectables, start Lupron on day 21.
October2011: Add in Gonal-f on day 3, grow 10-15 follicles, 5-6 of which are maturing, have minor breakdown about the possibility of having a litter of children. Calm the f down. HCG trigger'd 3 times and had IUI's done. Went back in for after-ovulation ultrasound and discovered I had not released any eggs. LUF syndrome. IVF is only option. Shit.
November2011: BCP cycle to calm ovaries down.
December, January/February 2011: Nothing. Nada. Trying on our own. Switch RE's because I don't love my RE so much anymore. REALLY love my new one though. Discover another cyst on an ovary. She checks my estrogen levels to see if I can start a medicated cycle or if I need another BCP cycle and whoa. A trace of pregnancy hormone is in my blood. I'm told to do nothing. Come back in 2 days to see if the numbers are going up. They don't. Miscarriage. Begin BCPs.


And that's where we are. Sorry to bore you, if anyone is even reading but I need to get it all out and somewhere so I can refer back if needed. I realize some of this might not make sense and I will explain later.

Moved. Again.

Because I can barely think straight...I have started doing personal posts on the photography blog, which you can find HERE.
See you there!

Here goes nothing...

I have always been one of those people that go on and on about how I will NEVER drive a minivan because ewww and shit. Who needs all that room? Who wants to look like a douchebag? I mean, minivans are for moms and old people with lots of grandchildren. "I won't give in!" I say. "I won't lose my cool!" There's "plenty of room in my Jetta!" "SUV's are totally enough!" You get the idea.

I 'pshawed' the car dealer when she suggested that I check out a Routan when I surprisingly declared how super tiny the Tiguan crossover was. "Nope. Never. Don't even talk to me about it" I said. After a little coaxing and a huge "what the hell!" I hopped up into the mom-mobile. "At least this will shut them up" I thought.

You know what? It wasn't so bad. The seats were leather...and soft. The touchscreen was FUN! I love touchscreens! It has how many DVD screens? You can watch 2 videos at once, you say? The doors do WHAT with the click of a button? Damn. Look at all that room! I could fit all of my photography equipment in here PLUS leave Mason's carseat and still have tons of room. There's plenty of space for another baby (when we have one) and a bigger stroller. It's comfortable. I don't feel like I am sitting on the dashboard and simultaniously smelling the backseat passenger's breath. It has a V6. It drives like a car.

Was I *gasp* losing my cool? Was I going to drive a minvan. Was I going to look like a mom? Wait.

Hold it.

I am a mom. I run a business that requires me to lug around all sorts of equipment and chairs and reflectors and props. What's the problem? Suddenly, I couldn't even tell you why I thought minivans were so bad? A "soccer mom" stigma? Maybe. But again, I am a mom. Doesn't everything have a stigma? You drive a 4 door sedan...you must be slow. And old. You drive an SUV? You must hate the environment. You drive a big truck? You must be overcompensating. You drive an expensive car? You must be snobby. Why do you need a HUGE SUV when you are a childless couple? Yadda yadda yadda.

No. I think you drive your car because you like it. Imagine that. My husband never bought a sportscar because he was going to take it somewhere and race it. My in-laws didn't buy Mini Coopers because they plan on re-enacting a scene from the Italian Job (that I know of). My mom didn't buy an SUV because she is short and couldn't see the road in a smaller car. Love you, mom! And your T-Rex arms!

I guess I never thought about all this before. I thought I knew what I liked. Maybe I was trying to hold on to someone that I am not. I am a mom, but I am still Tiff. Just because I drive a bigger car that has self-opening doors doesn't mean I am someone different. I still like to drink wine! I still like to dance and watch bad reality shows! I am the same boring, child-toting, vertically challenged, cackle-laughing person...I just drive a car that has more room for your judgemental ass. So hop on in! Pop in the Hangover and let's go out on the town! I will even let you take a nap in the back if you like!

September.

September was birthday month. It was lunch dates, dinner dates and good times with old and (kinda) new friends. A month of phone calls and bookings and "can I do this?". Hair cuts, suckers, new toys, new clothes and new shoes. September was also a month of tears, frustration, lonliness, hopes up and hopes down. September had 30 pretty much beautiful days, that quickly turned into darker evenings and cooler temperatures.


But September is gone. October is here, when I drink lots of beer, and a new month brings a new beginning. Sure, there will be more dates, bookings, lots of work, another haircut (hopefully no more new clothes or shoes or toys), even cooler-yet temps and even shorter days. But this is the point where I do raise my imaginary beer and say: Here's to October. Here's to zero tears, frustrations, minimal lonliness (Paul does have a little travel this month), and hopes turning into reality. Here's to 31 gorgeous fall days of nothing but happiness and rainbows and puppy dogs and shit. (Now, you didn't think I would really make it through a serious post did you?)

Have a great Scotch-tober my friends.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Remember way back when I would religiously post monthly letters to my son? Nah, me neither.

But hey! He turned TWO. And if you ask him, he will tell you that as well.

The Mom Who Does Not Do Character Themes decided that a Cars theme would be appropriate this year. There's a first for everything, right? Also, The Mom Would Said She Would Never Put Her Child on a Leash? Yeah, she kicked the bucket last week. I bought an Elmo leash in a mad dash to a big box baby store when I thought we would be accompanying my husband to California (child + LAX = I panic). Now that we are *not* going, going, back, back, to Cali, Cali? Now, I just have an Elmo leash. What the hell am I going to do with an Elmo leash?