PLUMP

Completely exhausted, desperate for some time together and feeling quite like we'd been hit by a truck, Ducks and I last night agreed that we hadn't done such a good job at life this week. Both of us had very busy work weeks which, coupled with the annual spring social surge (you know the time of year when people stop hibernating and suddenly you have something on almost every night?), lurking colds and a nasty incident at work for Ducks, resulted in us generally not coping too well with the little things. The chaotic state of our house was an early clue that things weren't going so well but what really tipped us off was the fact that we had fast food for dinner twice this week! Twice! There have been entire years that we haven't had fast food twice. Naughty us!

We spent yesterday evening chatting about ways to make things better and agreed that a big cook up was in order for this weekend, as was a Saturday afternoon nap and plenty of hanging out together.

This morning, not quite so tired and feeling positive about getting back on track, we buzzed around the house getting ready for a big market trip. On our way out the door, Ducks ventured into the corner of the living room where all our canvas shopping bags had been dumped the weekend before. Imagine the hilarity when she made the gruesome discovery of a bag, still full of last weeks vegetables - shriveled, unloved and (worst of all) unmissed!!! Yep, we really didn't do too well at life this week.

And in TTC news. Our donor is back from his trip next week and I'm currently on CD3. 10 more days until insemination!

Karmic forces got me. I was boasting that my cold was over in 4 days while everyone elses has stuck around for 3 weeks. And now it's back, in full force. And my period is going to start in the next 24 hours. And I'm crabby. And we have to go out tonight. Again. That's 2 nights in a row. Don't these people know we're Nanna's?

I was stood up!

And I learnt an important lesson. You can't organise your entire life with Facebook! At some point, soon after your initial Facebook reunion, swap phone numbers! That way, when old friend has a vague moment and forgets your coffee date, you can call her!

Instead I sat, alone and pathetic, waiting for over an hour. (And what makes it worse was that I twice held the waiter off getting my coffee for me because I was 'waiting for a friend.' Hence when friend never showed, I looked uber pathetic.

It's all good now. We've swapped numbers and re-set the date.

My dear friend W and her partner M and on the same TTC road as us. Last Tuesday W got a very disappointing BFN and left me a message telling me so. I didn't return her call until yesterday. Bad friend. See - she's the one with all the front. She gives over the impression that this TTC thing isn't nearly as torturous for her as it is for me. I should know better. She is really upset and she's starting to panic. How do I best serve her as a friend? At what point is blind reassurance not enough? I don't think she needs to panic just yet. She's only had a few tries scattered over the last 12 months but in her mind, it's been 12 months and she's 'nearly 35' (actually, she's 33). What to do? What to say?

And a quick shout out to another dear friend J. Arsonists set her new home on fire a couple of weeks ago ( eek! ). I'm so sorry for her and her lovely man D. It was their first home. They had only taken possession a few weeks earlier. And, the poor things spent a few days being the prime suspects! Imagine that??
Fortunately, it looks like insurance will cover the rebuilding (and hence the renovation they couldn't yet afford). Fingers crossed for a speedy phoenix rising from the ashes.

From now on, I'm all about checking in with friends regularly and returning calls on the day they come in...

When did it become ok to spend ridiculous amounts of time online? When did the stigma around online relationships and friendships lift? Did I spend such a long time denying my geekiness and internet addictions that I missed the fact that I no longer have to hide it?

I've finally moved on into the world of facebook. I resisted for such a long time but after harassment from several friends, and one in particular (thanks J) I have moved over to the darkside and I love it. And I can't believe the amount of people I'm finding. My IRL social life has picked up 100% because I'm reconnecting with old friends. Tomorrow, I'm having coffee with an old friend who I lost touch with 6 years ago. Last I heard, she was living in Brisbane. It turns out that for the last 2 years, we have lived 2 streets away from each other! Weird huh!!??

Of course there's a down side too. What do you do when people who you've happily lost contact with request to be your friend? So far I've ignored two requests and reluctantly accepted two other. Is there some kind of internet etiquette book that I haven't yet been privy to?

Anyway - what I really want to say is that aside from its superior time wasting capabilities, facebook rocks (and I cannot believe I'm saying it!)

Our favourite time in the week is our Sunday morning breakfast and the threat of skipping it is enough to send Ducks and I into a complete spin. Most Sundays you can find us at our local cafe which, until we moved was a mere 1 minute walk away - from our new place, it's a whole 7 minutes by foot. It is the absolute truth when I say that proximity to 'our cafe' factored in the new house hunt.

Most weeks, we are joined by our friends who live a 7 minute walk away too - though they walk from the other direction and have been known to get distracted by some of the other amazing cafes in the area. The truth is, we're spoilt for choice.
All these linked cafes (and several more) are really fabulous. Not just good, but exceptional. If there's anything our little village in the city does well, it's breakfast and I challenge anyone to find such quality and consistency in such quantity anywhere else in this city.

The fact that week after week we end up back at 'our cafe' is less to do with how wonderful it is (although it really is) and much more to do our intense parochialism and fondness of familiarity and habit. So what are we going to do when a baby arrives? Habit, ritual, routine...out the window! But I figure the best thing about being a Sunday breakfast couple and not a Saturday night party couple is that when babies arrive, they can come too, right!????!

Apparently, I'm supposed to have an opinion on these dykes who are suing their IVF doctor because he implanted them with two eggs when they requested only one.

The case
Ordinarily, opinion is my second name but on this one, I'm stumped and I think I am stuck on the fence. One thing I am sure of though is that I am appalled by the homophobic spin the media has put on this whole thing. The fact that the woman is a lesbian should be completely irrelevant. I guess I'm a bit naive to think that the media would let that one go. Or maybe this really is proof that you shouldn't let them queers breed...

So anyway, my gut feeling is to be a bit grossed out by it all. I completely understand that these women are pissed off. I would be pissed off too. But I think I would be pissed off and then realise that I needed to get over it and concentrate on parenting my two beautiful daughters.

The retort
And then I read the article above and completely understand and support the very clear and valid political points these women are making. Dammit. Why is nothing ever black and white?

I had a big deadline at work today and was well on track to meeting it. A few more hours and it would have been done. Of course, that was before I got this stupid cold. What actually happened was that I called in sick and I slept until midday. At midday, I dragged myself from my bed to the couch and watched Oprah. I was still thinking I could get the work done in the afternoon and email it into the office. Nope. Not me - no stamina here - I did a sink full of dishes in one of my more energetic moments and spent the rest of the afternoon watching clips of LAink , dreaming about my next tattoo (which Ducks has promised to design me before our next round of TTC) and dozing. The deadline has been renegotiated for Monday and I've called in sick for tomorrow too.

It's not fair though. I've never get big work finished on time and this was gonna be my chance to shine. I was so on schedule. It's a conspiracy I'm sure. And of course, now that it's bedtime, I'm wide awake!

I am committed to keeping this blog up and building readership steadily. I know that means I have to keep it up-to-date and relevant. So, when I've not got much to contribute, am I better to post quick little boring posts or leave it until I have something useful and interesting to say?

So today, I am sick. I have a cold and I'm miserable. Ducks has a stack of work on but she still managed to come home from work and cook chicken noodle soup for me before she locked herself in the study and kept working. She's so great.

(Do you wanna know this boring stuff?)

In the old days, I was just as obsessed with Ani DiFranco as the next baby-dyke. I never stopped loving Ani but I've spent the last 5 or 6 years able to live without her. And then we bought Canon
and I find myself longing to be 19 again. Everything was so urgent and intense. I was so motivated and un-jaded. I though Ani was talking directly.to.me (!!!)
Call me a boring lesbian stereotype, but I still love love her.

Indigenous Australians die 17 years earlier than non-Indigenous Australians and Indigenous infant mortality is three times that of non-Indigenous Australians. It is a national disgrace that Indigenous Australians do not have the same access to health services that other Australians enjoy.

We call on Australian governments to take action to achieve health equality for Indigenous Australians within 25 years through:

• increasing annual Indigenous health funding by $450 million to enable equal access to health services
• increasing Indigenous control and participation in the delivery of health services
• addressing critical social issues such as housing, education and self-determination which contribute to the Indigenous health crisis

Before the first TTC attempt, I went in for a pre-conception once-over. I found this fantastic family doc who practices out of a holistic health centre and treats most things nutritionally and rarely prescribes drugs. I only went to see her because Ducks insisted on it. I'm pretty keen to limit the involvement of western medicine in my pregnancy so was generally a bit irritated about having to have the check-up. But, as Ducks pointed out, this is her process too and she would feel much more confident knowing that I was super healthy and fit for baby-making.

So, the doc seemed to think all was fine - my vital stats were great. She ordered a stack of blood work to check my levels but sent me on my way feeling pretty confident - even saying 'so i'll see you when you miss your period!' I went off and had the tests and called for the results a couple of weeks later (I forgot about them for a while). Results were fine. Nothing to worry about. I was really thrilled.

Two weeks ago, the health centre rings and asks me to make an appointment to see the doctor. Apparently, the was something alarming in my test results that we need to address. Grrrr. 'But weeks ago, you told me everything was fine.' Hmph. A mix up, apparently.

Anyway, long story short...I've got a hypothyroid. I'm not desperately ridden with debilitating symptoms but a few things make sense now. I've been putting on weight more than usual lately. And my skin is bad, blotchy and itchy. I have very limited stamina - once I'm tired, I can rarely push myself. And though not depressed, have had trouble with motivation for most of this year.

Fortunately, I should be able to treat this nutritionally. Unfortunately, it can impact on fertility and conception but I'm determined to get this sorted out fast. I'm so glad though, that we figured this out now and not 12 months into a painful and fruitless TTC journey.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting up in bed, dying to go to the toilet but holding on until the pathology clinic opens so I can go and pee in a cup for them in order to run a few more tests. I'm not sure if I'll make it!

And yay for Ducks insisting on that initial check-up. She might be a Taurus, and I might be an Aries, but sometimes - and only sometimes (!) she is right.

I've been asked many times about my motivation for wanting babies. Often, it's come from young-ish friends who cannot fathom the responsibility it takes or from intentionally childless friends who can be somewhat offensive about their anti-child stance. Other times, however, it's come from other women, who, like me, care deeply about social justice and the environment and are battling with the idea of more people on this planet. Their concern comes from a personal and political place and is certainly worthy of consideration.

I just want to add here that I am NOT a supporter of population control and see it, among other things, as Orwellian and VERY anti-woman.

However, on a rational level, why would anyone want to bring more children into this racist, war torn, resource depleted, consumer driven, sexist, violent, homophobic world? Who would want to expose the planet to more polluters? Who would want their kids having to face the VERY REAL possibility of running out of fresh water? (I've no doubt that the next major world war will be over water).

I'm not sure that I can come up with a genuinely sound answer so I'm going with pragmatism to get me through on this one but I will begin by saying that having children is not a rational decision - regardless of the circumstances. Nonetheless, we will bring our kids up to be warriors. They will grow up with the tools and values to promote a sustainable and peaceful world. They will genuinely know what it means to tread lightly on the earth. They will have great bullshit detectors. They will know about injustice. AND, if I'm really lucky, they will give a shit and want to make real, lasting change.

I still haven't thought or read enough about this. Anyone care to share their thoughts or ideas? Can anyone point me to some good reading material on the matter?

I'd like to convince you that I'm not actually this one dimensional person who breathes, eats and sleeps nothing but babylust. In the last few days, I think I've managed to find some of my other dimensions and it's been really good. I feel sane and normal and interested and interesting again. I drank red wine on Saturday night and then again last night - just one glass each night. I was so happy to be able to do so. I realised that I never said goodbye to red wine and I felt relieved to have a second chance. Of course, it's not really alcohol (well, maybe just a little - but not really) that I'll miss when I'm pregnant, but just those little 'me time' rituals.

Now that this baby making thing is a reality, I'm considering all the implications of pregnancy and parenting in a whole different light. I am going to deeply and remorsefully miss the time that Ducks and I have together, alone. It's not as if I'd never considered it before - we talk about it all the time - but the reality of it has just hit, and it hurts more than I thought it would. I thought 6 years (7 by the time a baby is here) was solid grounding but the truth is, it's not enough - no amount of time will ever be enough and there's no such thing as 'the right time.' I get it now.

So - it's wonderful that I'm not knocked up just yet - I've got time, we've got time. I've been lapsed in lots of areas in my life and I'm going to reconnect. I'm going to a political meeting tonight. I've been a lapsed activist for a long time now. I work for an activist organisation and have been making excuses about doing my bit through my work but I need to do something more interesting and personal for me. I'm so looking forward to it and I'm really happy that Ducks is coming too. And, through the power of Facebook (which I swore was not my thing and bagged for a long time) I have started finding a stack of old friends. I'm not sure if I want to catch up with all of them but I'm thrilled to have reconnected with a few. Looks like my social life is about to pick up too! And maybe, just maybe, I'll reintroduce myself to my sewing machine on my day off. Wouldn't that be fun!!?!

Woman comes out at 88 My heart is broken and singing at the same time. Wow!