Sunday, February 28, 2010

bad blogger

I'm sorry I've been a bad blogger the past few days and haven't been commenting. I promise I'll get back on track tomorrow.

The recovery is moving along. Sometimes I feel like I'm taking two steps forward then one step back. Bending is impossible, but squatting works. There are still massive air bubbles in my chest that will not go away. Yesterday the goal was to get me to, um, "go" number 2 and we succeeded (thanks to prune juice), but no luck today. And the vaginal bleeding has gotten heavier instead of lighter, but that could be because I'm moving around a lot more. 

My plan is to go back to work tomorrow since I sit at a desk all day. Driving is going to suck. As most of you know, I commute a longggg way to and from work; I'm in the car for a total of 3 hours a day. I'm going to bring a comfy pillow for my belly that will hopefully make the ride more bearable this week.

Friday, February 26, 2010

alive and sore

I made it out in one piece.

We arrived at the hospital a little early yesterday, but they took me back immediately to get prepped for surgery. Once my IV was in place, Joey was allowed to come back and sit with me while I laid in bed and tried to relax.

Every person imaginable came back and spoke to me. Finally, my doc came back and asked if I minded going in a little early since he was finished with his previous surgery sooner than expected. Sure!

So, the anesthesiologist (did I spell that right?) and her student doc came back to claim me. I started to get nervous when I was saying good-bye to Joey, so the student doc offered me "a little bit of courage." Once whatever she shot me with was in my IV, I was out cold.

The next thing I remember is waking up in recovery. I spent about 45 minutes there waking up while my nurse took my vitals. I really didn't feel any pain at this point--just very sleepy and disoriented. I kept asking for Joey so they finally brought me into another room where I could see him. 

He had spoken to the doc who gave him photos and a DVD of the surgery. We still haven't watched the DVD, but the photos were very cool. The cyst was bigger than I imagined and you were able to see the spots of endo. Overall, he classified me at stage 1, which made me so relieved.

Once I was able to walk (with assistance) and pee, they got ready to send me home. They gave me one more shot of pain meds and some Zofran for my nausea. Good thing since I didn't fill those dreadful anal suppositories.

I slept a little bit yesterday afternoon, but mostly laid on the couch and watched TV. My best friend came over and brought me a huge bottle of Moscato to break open after my pain pills are gone and a gossip mag to read while I'm lounging around. It made my day.

This morning the pain is worse than yesterday. I would just describe it as feeling very sore. My back hurts from laying on it so much, and my shoulders and upper chest area hurt from all the gas/air bubbles left over from surgery. But I've been taking Gas X (thanks, Mic!) and drinking ginger ale--both of which are helping. My throat is also very sore from the breathing tube.

My husband has been a SAINT. The nurses in recovery were so impressed with him. All of them "awwwed" when he put on my shoes and tied them because I couldn't bend over. He even called out of work today because he didn't want to leave me home alone.

That's pretty much the entire story. I promise not to post the photos or video of my insides and gross you out. :) Hopefully I'll be moving around a little better this afternoon so I can get onto the computer and get updated on my blog reading.

Thank you all so much for the good thoughts and well wishes. You have no idea how much I appreciate them.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

pre-op giggles

Some of you were around toward the beginning of my blog when I was first diagnosed with infertility. It was during that time when Boris was discovered.

Boris was a rather large cyst who made his home on my left ovary. I was never very fond of Boris and the aches, cramping, and bloating he brought into my life. Needless to say when he disappeared six weeks later, I was happy to see him go.

Over the last week or so, I've been having some intense cramps and a pulling sensation on my left side. I attributed it to the birth control pills. So imagine my surprise when that punk showed up on my ultrasound this morning looking huge. I hope he enjoys his evening, because come tomorrow he'll be history.

Other than Boris's unexpected arrival, the rest of my appointment went well. The nurse went over every detail with me and what I needed to do (or not do) before surgery. Like a thirteen-year-old, I giggled when she told me I needed to douche tonight. And I'm pretty sure my face turned a few shades of red when she talked about filling my prescription for nausea . . . which comes in anal suppositories (I think I'll pass on those, thanks). I can't imagine the blog hits I'm going to get with the words "anal" and "douche" in one post.

We check into the hospital tomorrow at 7:45 am. The next time you see a post from me, I hope to be feeling high as a kite.

Monday, February 22, 2010

the illusion

Thursday afternoon, after my visit with the surgeon had a chance to settle in, I started to struggle with feelings of guilt. Mostly, though, I just felt like a burden.

So, that night, when I laid my head onto my pillow, I finally decided to let go.

I released everything I kept inside of me yesterday, but I think I also let go everything that has been gnawing at my heart for almost two years. In a way, it was me giving up control over many things: my body, my life, my emotions, and my pain. I cried so hard that I could barely catch my breath.

It felt amazing.

I didn't wallow in my self-pity on Friday. I decided to make the most of my last weekend before being sliced and diced twice.

We bought furniture and bedding, and we picked out paint for the new place. We drank. We went out to Sunday breakfast. We finally agreed to book an anniversary trip to NYC, where we will stay at a nice hotel and not worry about spending money for once.

On the outside, I looked put together this weekend. I put makeup on. I did my hair instead of pulling it back in a hair tie. I shaved my legs, which is a huge accomplishment during winter. I wore thongs. (I know you were dying to know that.) Doing those things made me forget how screwed up my body is inside. Because for the first time in a long time, when I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a lump in my breast, or ovaries that didn't work, or a uterus that I am not sure could ever carry a child.

I saw me. For a moment, I looked whole again.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

MRI results

The MRI was inconclusive.

So where do we go from here?

Surgery. For a girl who has never had surgery in her entire life, I'm about to be cut open twice in one month: next week for the LAP and sometime in late March for the removal of the pesky lump in my breast that may or may not be cancer and has been sitting there now for almost two months. They can't do a needle biopsy because it's sitting too close to my chest wall. The only choice is to remove the whole thing.

I'm okay. Really, I am. I'm just chanting my motto: One step at a time.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010


In the tornado of activity over the last few days stemming from the second SA results, there are a few things I haven’t mentioned:

My LAP is *officially* scheduled for next Thursday, February 25 at 9:45 am. My pre-op appointment is the morning before, from 8 to 11. My friend Mic over at IF Crossroads has gone above and beyond to help answer all of my weird and even some embarrassing questions about what to expect before, during, and after surgery. She even sent me a recommended shopping list! I don’t know how I could ever thank her for being so kind and supportive. I appreciate her SO much.

The closing date of March 1 is looking less and less achievable. I’m trying to stay positive, but I would be really shocked if it we hit that day.

Thank you, Kelly, for nominating me for a blog award! I promise I will post on the ten things I love later today. :)

I still have not received the results of my MRI, and it’s now been over a week. So yesterday I called to see what was up. The receptionist said that both the doctor and nurse were out of the office this afternoon, but that my results had arrived from the hospital early last week. When I asked why I hadn’t been contacted yet, her response was: "It's not our responsibility to call you and tell you the results. It's your responsibility to call and schedule a follow up." Um, so my response was: “So you’re saying if there was something seriously wrong--say I had cancer--you would still want ME to call for the results?” She got super snippy with me and told me she would have the nurse return my call today. I can’t wait to talk to this nurse and tell her about the woman’s behavior. It was horrible.

And last but not least, my aunt. I’ve wanted to write a whole post about this, but I really didn’t have the right words to say. My aunt has been feeling sick the past couple of months. She, my uncle, and my two cousins live in the mountains of North Carolina, so they don’t exactly have the best medical facilities. Regardless, she went to several hospitals and had many tests run, with no conclusive results as to why she was feeling bad.

Last week, her son from a previous marriage got married in California. She was feeling bad, but there was no way she would miss her son’s wedding. When she returned home, the pain was so unbearable, she had to call 911. When they took her to the hospital, she had a massive heart attack. Apparently, she’s been having mild heart attacks for weeks and didn’t know. On Saturday night while I was at a good friend’s wedding, they performed “emergency” heart surgery (quadruple bypass) after she became increasingly unstable.

I’m happy to say that after a few very scary days, she’s doing much better. They were able to take her off of the breathing tube yesterday. She’s only 45 and still not out of the woods yet, but it was hard for all of us to imagine her youngest child, my 13-year-old cousin, going through her teenage years without a mother.

Thinking about my aunt over the past few days has put things into perspective. I’m still here. Joey’s still here. We’re healthy and happy, and, for the most part, everything is going well in our lives. It’s just that one little thing that eludes us. I hope it’s waiting for us at the end of the road. But until then, I’m trying my very best to be focused on what I do have.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

a new day

I’m feeling a little better today. I needed time to grieve and regain my composure.

My husband is a healthy 32-year-old. He takes daily fertility vitamins. He eats well. He’s in great shape. He drinks lots of water and hardly ever drinks caffeine or alcohol. He has never smoked a day in his life.

None of that explains why none of his sperm are moving rapidly, almost half aren't moving at all, and about 3/4 are abnormal, leaving us with somewhere between 2 and 4 million "viable" swimmers which are moving poorly or are not moving forward.

I’m not going to ask the obvious question of why this is happening. I can’t because we’ll never get the answer to that question. The fact is we have no control over this. As we both agreed last night: It sucks, but it is what it is.

They will retest in the next couple of weeks. Hopefully the numbers will be better. If they aren’t, we’ll discuss options after my LAP. Obviously Femara + natural is most likely out. I imagine it will be Femara + IUI or maybe injects + IUI for a limited number of tries before IVF? Who knows. I’m trying not to speculate too much. As my husband likes to remind me, I am not a doctor. (Thank God for that.)

So, for the time being, I’m trying not to think about how to afford IVF.

I’m really, really trying.

Monday, February 15, 2010


Once. Just once I would love to get good news about this IF stuff.

SA is back. Low count, low motility, abnormal morphology. Doc wants the test repeated in the next couple of weeks. 

Crossing my fingers and hoping for a miracle.

Friday, February 12, 2010

i'll love you forever

I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

No offense to those who do, but I just don’t “get” this holiday. I never have. It seems so superficial to have a day set aside to tell people that you love them and care about them.

I love my husband every day, and I tell him that. When I lean over to kiss him good-bye in the morning, I say “I love you.” When I get to work, I send him a text message to let him know that I made it in okay and I end it with “I love you.” Every time I talk to him on the phone throughout the day, we always finish the conversation with “I love you” or “I love you, too.” When I lean over and kiss him goodnight before we turn off the light, we tell each other “I love you.”

Every phone conversation with my mom ends this way. I tell my dad I love him. I even say it to my brother; though I’m sure he wishes I wouldn’t. I tell my dog I love him. I tell my friends I love them.

After both of my IUIs, and up until the day of my negative beta, I told the unborn baby in my belly that I loved him, too.

Getting an “I love you” from someone is far more meaningful to me on any other day of the year rather than Valentine’s Day. On Valentine’s Day, it feels forced.

Joey knows that I feel this way, and he still gets me flowers and a card. But what’s more meaningful to me is that sweet, sentimental card he gives me after we’ve had a bad fight. Or the bouquet of flowers he brings home after another negative pregnancy test or a bad day at work. Or when he makes me a cake for no special reason. I know he loves me, and that is my proof. The proof of my husband’s love for me doesn’t come in a heart-shaped box of candy covered in red and pink. It’s within every tear he sheds over our infertility.

I know that, someday, I will have a child. And that child will grow up, go to school, and celebrate Valentine’s Day with their friends and classmates. I will help him or her bake cookies, fill out cards, and pick out gifts for their teachers. I will help him or her make daddy breakfast in bed and draw him a picture of a heart. But I will also teach him or her the importance of saying I love you every day, not just on this one day of the year.

And with that, I’ll leave you with the text of one of my favorite children’s books. If you’ve never read I LOVE YOU FOREVER by Robert Munsch, know that you will probably need a tissue before scrolling any further.

I love all of you. Happy un-Valentine’s Day.


I LOVE YOU FOREVER by Robert Munsch

A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she held him, she sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.

The baby grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was two years old, and he ran all around the house. He pulled all the books off the shelves. He pulled all the food out of the refrigerator and he took his mother's watch and flushed it down the toilet. Sometimes his mother would say, "this kid is driving me CRAZY!"

But at night time, when that two-year-old was quiet, she opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor, looked up over the side of his bed; and if he was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. While she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.

The little boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was nine years old. And he never wanted to come in for dinner, he never wanted to take a bath, and when grandma visited he always said bad words. Sometimes his mother wanted to sell him to the zoo!

But at night time, when he was asleep, the mother quietly opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor and looked up over the side of the bed. If he was really asleep, she picked up that nine-year-old boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.

The boy grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was a teenager. He had strange friends and he wore strange clothes and he listened to strange music. Sometimes the mother felt like she was in a zoo!

But at night time, when that teenager was asleep, the mother opened the door to his room, crawled across the floor and looked up over the side of the bed. If he was really asleep she picked up that great big boy and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. While she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.

That teenager grew. He grew and he grew and he grew. He grew until he was a grown-up man. He left home and got a house across town. But sometimes on dark nights the mother got into her car and drove across town. If all the lights in her son's house were out, she opened his bedroom window, crawled across the floor, and looked up over the side of his bed. If that great big man was really asleep she picked him up and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while she rocked him she sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be.

Well, that mother, she got older. She got older and older and older. One day she called up her son and said, "You'd better come see me because I'm very old and sick." So her son came to see her. When he came in the door she tried to sing the song. She sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always . . .

But she couldn't finish because she was too old and sick. The son went to his mother. He picked her up and rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And he sang this song:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my Mommy you'll be.

When the son came home that night, he stood for a long time at the top of the stairs. Then he went into the room where his very new baby daughter was sleeping. He picked her up in his arms and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. And while he rocked her he sang:

I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you’ll be.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

big macs and baptisms

Yes, I’ve really never eaten a hamburger and not even as a child. It’s very strange, I know! And no, I’m not a vegetarian either. I can’t really explain why I’ve never eaten one. As a kid, I always wanted the happy meals with the chicken nuggets. As I got older, the longer I went without eating a hamburger, the less I felt a desire to try one.

Now every once in a while when I’m in a Whole Foods or Fresh Market or some really nice store and I see specialty burgers, it sort of makes me want to see what it’s like. I know I will some day. I know my husband wishes I would try one and LOVE it so he could eat them more often.

It will happen at some point. Maybe I’ll get pregnant and crave one?


It feels like the weekend happened forever ago, and today is only Wednesday. But the weekend did happen and it was the weekend of my nephew’s baptism.

I absolutely love my nephew, but I’m an emotional wreck most days and combine that with a family function that’s 100% about babies? Recipe for disaster. However, I think I can say that I handled myself with dignity. The only awkward point in the weekend was dinner on Saturday, when the waiter at dinner kept mistaking the baby for mine. Sigh. I give most of the credit to Lexapro for keeping my emotions in check. And thank you to Hayley for providing us a place to stay and some good laughs. :)


Monday I felt great going into work and absolutely horrible three hours later. I used to get migraines all the time (a post for another day) but haven’t had one this bad in a long time. I blame AF who has been a horrible, raging bitch since her arrival.

My doctor’s office called today and had to switch the surgery date. I was disappointed at first, but it may work out better this way. I’m now getting “sliced and diced” on Thursday, February 25. It is one week later than the original date BUT the good part is that I had already planned on taking that Monday off (March 1) to close on the house. So let’s keep our fingers crossed that 1) we really do get to close that day and 2) my surgery doesn’t have to be moved again for lack of OR availability.


What else is going on?

Last night was my bi-monthly support group meeting, which was awesome as usual. We had two guest speakers: one was an acupuncturist and one was an IF counselor.

My old college roommate is getting married this weekend in Naples. I’m excited about that and about hanging out with some people I haven’t spent a lot of time with since my own wedding.

My good friend Whitney gave me a copy of Away We Go for Christmas and Joey and I finally watched it on Friday night. It was an excellent movie, but it brought on a lot of emotions. I cried a lot. If you are going to watch it, make sure you are in the right frame of mind and you have a tissue box handy.

I can’t think of what else I wanted to cover in this post. But now that I’ve written about a little bit of everything, I guess that’s enough for one day, right?

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

the countdown begins

I have so much to write about, but I've spent the last two days home in my pajamas with a pounding migraine so bad that I am dizzy. So looking at my computer screen for long periods of time has been pretty much out of the question.

The good news?

Migraine = AF is finally here. My surgery is scheduled for next Thursday.

Friday, February 5, 2010


I'm behind on my reading today, but I promise I will get to it this afternoon or evening.

My MRI was this morning. It went well, I guess. I should know the results by Tuesday at the latest. I didn't sleep well last night because the thought of being in an enclosed space sort of freaks me out, but overall it wasn't too bad. I was in the machine for a lot longer than I thought I would be. For some reason, I had ten minutes stuck in my head but it was really 25 to 30. They gave me headphones and I listened to music (though it was nearly impossible to hear over the machine). The worst part about it was the contrast IV, but I think that's because I wasn't expecting an IV at all.

We are still waiting for the result of Joey's repeat SA almost two weeks later. And AF still hasn't shown. Last cycle I was already spotting by now. This cycle? Nada. Of course when I want her to get here she decides she's going to arrive late. My luck, she'll arrive this weekend: when the RE's office isn't open for me to schedule my LAP.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

i am grateful for . . .

Before the new year kicked off, I started a Day Zero list (thanks for the inspiration, Jin!) and one of the tasks is to list 100 things for which I'm grateful. Since I haven't really been in the best frame of mine these past couple of weeks, I decided to go ahead and start my list of 100. I figured I would do this on my blog, partially as a way to keep track and partially as a reminder to myself that not everything in life is terrible and gloomy. These first ten are in no particular order.

1. My husband: He's not perfect (he might argue otherwise), but he's just about the most wonderful man on the planet. I think we all sometimes forget that our husbands are hurting in this mess, too, so I'm striving to better understand his perspective on our situation and how we should handle it. It's a process, but I'm working on it. I just hope he knows how much I love him and how much I can't wait to make him a father.
2. My family: I have a great family that's been so understanding and supportive of our situation since we decided to share the news that we were infertile. They are also very excited about the house and have been helping us a lot these past few weeks as we get ready to become homeowners.
3. My puppy: Okay, so he's nine years old. But I can still call him a puppy! Harley has been around since I was in high school and I really missed him when we lived in Nashville. He's a miniature dachshund so sometimes the barking drives me crazy, but I know I can always count on him to cheer me up when I'm having a rough day.
4. My friends: Both near and far, in real life and the ones I've made through this blog and through TTCYFC. You are all amazing people. To the ones in real life, thank you for not shying away from my infertility. To my IF friends, someday we will get our miracles.
5. Wine: Yes, I still drink wine. I gave up coffee (sad face) and wine when we found out about IF, but got back on the wine bandwagon after I had several doctors tell me it was okay and that it might even help me relax since that's pretty much what I use it for. I have a glass about every other night. I only used to drink Merlot, but now I love pretty much anything: Cab, Shiraz, Riesling. My new favorite? Moscato.
6. Chocolate: Specifically, dark chocolate. Shacking up at my mom's house the past few months, though not ideal, has been great for my dark chocolate fix. She always keeps a bowl of it in the house. I try to limit myself to one piece per night, but sometimes I slip. :)
7. Living in Florida: Not that Nashville was so bad, but living where flip-flops are mandatory and the sun is almost always shining does wonders for anyone's mind. Even though the past few weeks have been rough, I'm generally a happier person here. Plus, our family and friends are here and my job isn't nearly as stressful.
8. Our new home: Finally, a place where we can UNPACK BOXES! We haven't lived in one place for more than a year or two since we've been together, so this will be a nice change. It makes me feel fortunate that we were able to buy in this market. And I'm thankful for the long way we've come since February last year with one of us unemployed and not knowing how to pay our bills.
9. My job: It isn't the most glamorous job in the world, but it's a job. Editing is not something I want to do for the rest of my life, but I am grateful to have a paycheck to take home when so many people do not. Having Joey out of work for almost six months made me appreciate this even more.
10. Sports: Yes, I can be grateful for sports! :) I grew up in South Jersey, so my "professional" sports affiliation aligns with everything Philly: Eagles, Phillies, Flyers . . . except for basketball. Living in Orlando for so many years, I have become a pretty big fan of the Magic. And of course I love Gators because I went there. I will watch almost any sport, though. I'm actually really excited for the Olympics to start.

Monday, February 1, 2010

infertility amnesia

in•fer•til•it•y am•ne•sia
Function: noun
Definition: the selective overlooking or ignoring of events or acts that led to pregnancy

To those of you who suffer from infertility amnesia: I do not understand you.

I do not understand how you can go through multiple treatments, the pain and suffering, the losses, and the surgeries and just . . . forget.

I do not understand how it is that you think you are so much better than everyone else because you are pregnant and the rest of us are still empty inside.

I do not understand how pregnancy suddenly becomes an excuse to be absent from the lives of your infertile friends.

I do not understand how, when you do take interest in our lives, you can be so blasé and carefree when it comes time to write down words of advice those of us who are still in the trenches battling with this disease.

You cannot possibly cope by forgetting: no matter how many or how little months it took you to get pregnant. You cannot possibly sleep better at night knowing that you have lied to everyone about what you have been through. You cannot possibly feel good pushing the rest of us aside because, suddenly, you have no time for us less important, infertile beings.

I have no idea what it is like to be pregnant. I do not know what it is like to see a second line on a pee stick or get a phone call from my RE's office with an amazing number. I do not know what a baby looks like on an ultrasound or what a heartbeat should sound like. And guess what? I. MAY. NEVER. KNOW. Does that make me less of a person than you? Less important? Less of a priority? And how is it that when you become pregnant, you suddenly become Nostradamus and you KNOW I am going to get pregnant: The same words you hated hearing just a month or two before.

No one can predict where our roads will end. Not us, not our partners, not our doctors. It's all up to fate or God or whatever you believe in. This is not a Lifetime movie where you know there will be two hours of heartache and drama, only for it to end with every character's sanity and relationships still intact. This is REAL shit. There are people who will not come out on the other side with a happy ending. You are pregnant. Good for you! You will probably get your sunshine at the end. The rest of us are still sitting here in the dark.

Respect that. Please. And know that will all always be infertile, pregnancy or no pregnancy. The sooner you get a grasp on that, the easier it will be to cope.

A wise infertile once said to me:

Don’t forget where you came from. A lot of people want to put this whole part of their lives in their rearview mirror when they are done, have resolution, and never want to think about it again. To me, it’s kind of disrespecting the experience. It’s like pretending that it was all so easy and that I wasn’t scarred from it or that I didn’t come out a different person--and that’s just not true. I think in a lot of ways I did actually gain from the experience: my marriage is stronger, I know who my real friends are, I have better/closer friends now than I did before, and I have a new perspective on life in general and definitely parenthood. I’m a different (better) parent than I would have been if it had all been easy and I had taken it all for granted.

Not every pregnant infertile is like this. I admire and appreciate the majority of you who are continuously there despite getting pregnant and (in some cases) giving birth. You are the kind of infertile I want to grow up to be: a parent, but more comforting and compassionate. You have not forgotten your past and you still look out for the little people down here at the bottom who are waiting for their turn.

Ok. Go ahead. Delete me. Curse me out. After all, I am the stupid infertile who has never been pregnant. What would I know?

yes, i'm here

In my blogging absence, I was nominated for a couple of awards by some of my awesome blogging friends. Because I had the weekend from hell, I'm exhausted, and I am insanely busy at work, here are three things you should know right now:

1. I met a blogger last week! JC from Steps to Baby and I work right down the street from each other, so we met up for lunch. It was so great to meet her and she's just as funny and sweet in person as she is on her blog. There wasn't nearly enough time to bitch about what we needed to bitch about, so there will definitely be another lunch date very soon!
2. We had the inspections done on the townhouse yesterday and only one major issue was found. Luckily it has to do with the outside of the house so it's covered under the HOA. Now we just have to get them to fix it. Now we are gearing up for the appraisal. We close exactly one month from today!
3. There has been a serious post brewing in my head for a few days now, one that I am still not sure I should share. I've started to put it all down on paper so maybe if it comes out right and I feel like I'm ready to take the heat for it, I'll put it up. But it's something that I feel uncomfortable ignoring.

More later . . .