Dear Darla Diaries

throwing out the baby's bathwater

I haven't broached the snarcky pained wit box that is wrapped around my last bits of the trying-to-get-preggers sanity recently. Since I've been nearly 8-months sans the bitch inducing piggybacked ovulation meds and more than 6-months without my man-source it's been a little easier to ignore. A little easier to soothe my ruffled feathers and focus on the smallish excitements in life like iso-active toothpaste and cat lesions. A little easier to be calm and to be honestly excited for both the unexpected pregnancy of close friends, long overdue healthy pregnancies of close fertility blogger friends and the sad news of others choosing to terminate pregnancy at the barely started phase without judging.

To those who haven't experienced the pain of infertility in any way shape or form dealing with seemingly normal things like healthy pregnancies of friends and family members isn't a simple ordeal. The irrational green head of jealousy and the sneaking ninja of irrationality are the juxtaposition of something that is often completely unexplainable. The phrase "I understand" becomes of the of the most ironic oxymorons of all times. It's a living breathing complicated beast that can often be nearly impossible to put into clean lines.

All that was to explain why the witty verbage of fellow infertile bloggers can crack me up to hysterical levels. When the likes of these brilliant minds can put that exact Arg! feeling into words it's like that perfect dose of whiskey. Like achieving the mind numbing effect inside the perfect moist chewy chocolate brownie without that dirty undercoating that just can't be maxed by mixers no matter what the cocktail goddess brags. It's just that good.

Today I stumbled into Aunt Julie from A Little Pregnant (a beautiful blog in it's own right) dishing it out at the nearly discovered and everso deliciously snarky Mommy Wants Vodka. Now I will place one in my left pocket and one in my right and carry them with me where ever I go.

I will share a single beautiful graph from the post to show why I want to pass out hugs, and I can be a stingy hugger when it comes to strangers or semi-strangers whom I'd love to meet in this case. (This quote is in direct regards in how to handle those utterly useless heaps of information being given by the overly helpful and completely ignorant do-gooders who think 'trying and failing' to get pregnant must be due to the fact you aren't having sex each and every day you are breathing. Whatever. And need I remind you all, again, that menstrual cycles are NOT a marker to determine if you are or aren't ovulating. That's right bitches, please explain it again.

As for the unsolicited advice, the souped-up Schwinn in me wishes you could meet their suggestions with wide eyes and a grateful gasp. “Ohhhh! That’s a fascinating thought! Wait, let me get a pen. I want to pass your idea along to my reproductive endocrinologist, the noted Dr. Shirley M. Pregnate, and offer it as a potential avenue of research, because in all my years of trying no one has ever suggested that we stop using condoms,” or whatever helpful pointer you’ve just been given. I know: It’s wrong to shame the ignorant. I know. Because then you’d be a complete bitch. And we’re trying to avoid that.

P.S. If you want Blog I would highly HIGHLY recommend reading Becky's "Blogging for Dummies" bit. In fact I may eventually do her the honor of permanently framing that shit in platinum and making it a frontpage fixture on my blog.

jarhead christmas

So first off I'm straight off jacking this brilliance from my good buddy Sarah and second, I too tip my hat to SemperFiWife. Merry Christmas boys and girls!

ode to ger.many

things that make me anxious: ger.many
things halfway around the world: ger.many
things that make me uptight: ger.many
places i never thought i'd live: ger.many
things that make me excited: ger.many
things i don't know: ger.many
places i just found on go.o.gle maps: ger.many
things that make my left eye twitch: ger.many
things that keep me up late at night: MrD's deployment ger.many
things that make all our friends ecstatic: ger.many
places my family wants to fly too: ger.many
things i might be allergic too: ger.many
things that make me excited: ger.many
things that slightly scare me: moving to ger.many
places we'll rock at: ger.many
places dude the cat can live: ger.many
did i mention things that make me hyperventilate?: ger.many
things i've determined to ignore for the next 12.5 days ... at least: ger.many
things i don't want to discuss til MrD returns: ger.many

chapter one: surviving deployments

Let me share a secret with you that every military spouse knows in some way, shape or form: You have to learn to adapt to spousal separations if you want to make it through the other side in mostly the same shape you began with.

The following are a few tricks that I've had use to cope during the last 6 months of my husband deployment, granted he was at a fairly safe location, but he has been completely out of the country nonetheless.

Ignore It. Ignore the empty space in bed next to you when your inclination is to lay wide eyed and lonely at night. Ignore the fact you are cooking for one instead of the normal two or less one if you cook for a family. Ignore the fact that you are watching a movie for one. Flat out ignore the fact that he/she will be gone for 6 months and just take it one day/night/week/month at a time. Function as if your spouse is a pen pal, granted a highly committed pen pal with benefits, but a pen pal. They love/support/desire you but have absolutely no ability to flit home when you are having a bad day.

Stay committed. Don't replace your spouse with close friends of the opposite sex. The moment you start confiding in a replacement or making a best friend of the opposite sex you often start slowly replacing your spouse. It won't be the same. It won't be something you can instantly undo. It won't be attention you can easily transfer from that person back to your spouse when they return. Remember bad habits are extremely easy to start and hard as hell to stop. So if you can write/email/txt your spouse do so. It doesn't always have to be heavy or complicated but keep it regular and consistent. They need to be reminded that you haven't forgotten them as much as you need to remind yourself that they do care and are interested in you day-to-day life.

Stay busy. Keep your calendar full. It's harder to focus on the empty spots when you are juggling work, family visits and weekend trips away. If you don't have a job, get one. If you don't want/need a job volunteer outside of your house/base/local circle. Get a pet. Get a hobby. If you can't sleep, than crochet/knit/do crosstitch/cards/MMO's ... whatever you need to do to keep your hands and hopefully minds sidetracked and on the ignore option. The more you hermit the easier you will find it to self cannibalize and that island isn't the pretty rabbit hole anyone wants to play in and stay sane for any length of time.

Create a support network. Make a lifeline of your close friends/family regardless if they are local or not. Touch base frequently and regularly. Confide in one or two of them about the worst moments you see happening. Admit that if they haven't heard from you in over a day/week/month to be concerned. When you are curled up in a fetal position in the darkest corner of the closet you have to seek help. It may be the hardest thing in the world but drag yourself to a phone and call someone. If you can't talk about it than ask them to join you for the gym/fast food/people watching at the mall. Surround yourself with someone to fill the quiet time. Get a cat/puppy/turtle/pet rock if you don't have children. Adopt a neighbor's kid in the Big Brother/Sister program for a grocery shopping buddy. It's the quiet that will sneak up like a ninja and suffocate you in your sleep.

Give your spouse a break. Whether they mean too or not the majority of spouses can only fulfill a few of the needs they are used to filling in person. When lucky, spouses in the safer zones can email/text/call daily and hopefully vid chat once a week. Even with all that communication it can get stilted. Remember, the majority of phone calls are limited to 15 to 20 minutes, barely long enough to scratch any serious subject topics. Often the easier needs for your spouse to meet will be financial and physical, possible spiritual but more than likely not emotional. It's a simple thing to touch base about Johnny's school play, having enough money to pay the bills or are having dinner with friends. It's far harder to breach the "how are you?" topic in the limited time/media they have to communicate. I'm also fairly certain it's probably only compounded by the helplessness they are ignoring from not being able to physically fix the problem. Spouses want to fix problems, whether it's holding your hand at a maternity appointment or fixing a flat tire/dead battery/broken roof or moving van.

Last but not least my motto in this military: hope for the worst and you will be far more satisfied with the best results. Breathe in, breathe out. I'm not that great at these tips and sometimes I suck terribly, but I try my hardest and try to remember that each morning is a new day.

new year, new promise

I just finished watching the cute Julie and Julia. It reminded me of something small. Something brilliant. We live better with a goal, with a focus. We wake up breathing it in and we fall to sleep with it on our lips. 

When we think of life goals or new year's resolutions many standards things come to mind: be a better Christian; eat healthier, get in shape, exercise more ... Each of these things are good, but should be ingrained into our lives. If i focus on dieting or exercising I fail miserably. If I think that every choice is choice to better myself and don't focus specifically on just one thing I tend to eat a little better, exercise a little more, develop my spiritual life further and don't hurt quite so much.

My goal is a better gift to my blog readers, a new focal point:Germany.

As I have eluded to previously MrD is coming back from Mars shortly, and during this first deploy.ment he received our 2nd official order station to our first trip overseas and new home, Ramstein AFB.

I may have shared bits and pieces in the past, but I hope in the future to focus both on the military steps for an out-of-country "move" PCS (permanent change or station), as well as the continued journey of the our fertility struggle.

Wishing you all the best in the meantime,
Darla

 

P.S. Lesson #1 in Military Jargon: PCS vs TDY

PCS: Permanent Change of Station. When you PCS you officially move from one base location to another. Often times the Army and Air Force can be interchangeable at Air Force bases and Army posts, but that isn't always the case. Many civilians are under the mis-assumptions that military members get choices into when or where they are stationed. This is a myth of a long and lengthy variety. While some can give their opinion or have that option, not all.

TDY: Temporary Duty. This is generally defined as either training assignments or deployments. This can be in or out of the country and can often vary from the short term 2-6 week assignments to 6-12 month deployment assignments. Deployment assignments are also not limited to stateside members but to members stationed on foreign soil For example although MrD is just returning from deployment he could be given orders to deploy again from Germany. Remember we are dealing with the government and their ultimate goal is to protect themselves and the country and the cost of family separation isn't always up for consideration.

best of luck for next year

found this little gem in my stocking at work . . .

i forgot the cars, the tape and the wrap
the inlaws are in town ... "oh holy crap"
the kids wont got to bed, those darling little snots
grandpas in the garage, with Junior doing shots
the turkey wont defrost, stockings are missing
Aunt Bessie and Uncle Johnny are in the backyard kissing
and Santa the old far, got his fat butt stuck
i hope next year for christmas, i have better LUCK

expect a struggle

Dude currently has chewie face. Not pretty. The doctor sent me home with antibiotics in a stopper. Also not pretty.

15 - 20 minutes
One haphazardly burrito wrapped spitting cat
1ml dropper of meds
Many deft escape moves of my eyes from swiping paws and teeth
I won ... slurp slurp slurp

It amazed me that he was purring a few minutes later over his food bowl.

After fruitless goo..gle attempts I found a delightful fellow Oregonian, Chas who hit the nail square on the head. (No way was I attempting to use my camera on top of all that.)

"Expect a struggle"

While anyone who has ever tried to do this with a cat knows it won't be easy, there are ways to make it easier, and the wikiHow gives you relevant tips. It also helps by telling you what NOT to do as well:

[...] DO NOT squirt liquid medication into the cat's throat or tongue. Liquids are likely to go down a cat's windpipe, making the cat choke. For liquid medications, insert the dropper between the cat's cheek and teeth. [...]

Just getting through the experience without getting scratched or bit is worth taking the time to read the wiki. If you can get the medicine down successfully as well, so much the better.

my happy thoughts to you ...

First off ... Mr D's gorilla trunk beat him back from Mars. That's a concrete sign he's coming home! And hopefully I'll get me some soon! Some love you preverts, and I completely understand!

Secondly, I get to have some mad family love this weekend. I'm bolting out of town immediately after work and heading to my twin's house. I get to surprise my nephews and my mommy who don't know I'm coming. My daddy, sis and bro-in-law are in it up to their pretty little eye balls. MrD has been gone for.ev.er and I can use some sibling smothering.

And ... in case I don't get to tell you ... or just haven't ...

kharma's a riot

This morning I woke up giggling at 3am with a snap crackle pop. I was giggling because I had only woken up with a slight crick in my neck, need to shift around in bed and realization that my kitty was wrapped around my feet. No anxiety snarled around the base of my neck. No nervous tic in my eye and the absolute need to check a media center.

It was beautiful.

At 7:30a I was still humming when I opened the back door to put the puppy out and warm up my auto and was stopped dead in my tracks. What had been polks dots of white on the pavement at 11p had turned into a 9 inch plate of white. Everywhere. My car was snowbound in our 65 foot driveway and I was already late for work.

peanut butter and sardine demons

Mer.r.iam-Web.ste.r. wrote ...

anx-i-ety
1 a : painful or apprehensive uneasiness of mind usually over an impending or anticipated ill b : fearful concern or interest c : a cause of anxiety
2 : an abnormal and overwhelming sense of apprehension and fear often marked by physiological signs (as sweating, tension, and increased pulse), by doubt concerning the reality and nature of the threat, and by self-doubt about one's capacity to cope with it

A mild case of nerves has somehow have blown itself into full blown unrelenting hysterical anxiety attacks. I have never been afflicted with these and yet now I just can't seem to pry their taloned grasp from me.

I have always been the kind of kind of girl with pretty vivid dream and a hyperactive imagination. I can dream death, life, adventure. I talk in my sleep and tend to embody bits of my life around me with those fantasies that we all carry in our daily lives. It has always been a topic of discussion between my family and friends for the things my sisters and I will be discussing on random mornings or have woken our sleeping partners up with at the oddest of times, sometimes even things only they are aware and we are absolutely oblivious too. We also tend to rarely repeat a dream from any given night.

I rarely have insomnia and even more rarely wake up besides the very occasional night to go pee. Somehow those days seem long gone.

For the last several months now my subconscious has made me an anxious mess. I don't I've slept a whole night through more than a handful of times without being awake by at least 1:30 or 2 and tossing and turning until my alarm starts going off at 5:30 and finally succumbing to it's bleating at 6:15. Only the past few mornings have I decided to just get up in the wee hours and try to either just stay awake or shake it off and salvage part of the needed sleep cycle.

Originally it was work. I'd wake myself up in a near panic that I'd emailed the wrong people the wrong thing or IM'd absolutely bizarre facts to the entire company. These allegations would send me into a blind hysteria. I am very cautious who and what I email. My job is in HR and it is vital that I follow this protocol.

It didn't stop with work. I had hoped it would eventually fade into oblivion.

It spread to my gaming and to my friends. For weeks I have dreamt I was playing WoW and I would read my screen to realize I would be thinking one thing and IMing completely other phrasing. These would be direct chats to my friends, guildies and mass public in general.  Other times I would send out personal attacking and utter lies to close friends and families. Opinions and facts that were not only completely fabricated but often hateful and punishing. My caring and generous nature is running at its full flight or flight mode.

This has had me not only waking up with tears marking my face but also logging on in the wee hours to reset passwords and verify I didn't need to do unnecessary damage patrol of epic proportions.

Lately this hysteria is fading into my friends. This morning I woke myself up thinking I had let down a few specific individuals with some sort of important emails I had PROMISED them I would have to them by certain times/dates. Although I can't for the life of me now remember what they were..

This is driving me slowly and surely crazy.

I have changed my nighttime habits repeatedly hoping it would fix it. From my regular 9p bedtime to whenever the show is over or I pass out on the couch. I get new books and bury my head in their luscious pages. My mind may cling to the story until completion but my brain still produces the same technical nightmares. I pray. I listen to the radio. I don't listen to the radio. I workout. I don't workout. I look like crap at work. I change my diet.

I have even nearly banished myself from most social networking sites from my favorite game WoW to Facebook because I am so hyperaware of the fact that maybe I will lose control like in my dreams and it just won't stop.

Nothing seems to work.

I refuse to medicate but yet know I can't continue down this train track and function during the daytime effectively. For the most part the evening monsters only poke their heads out in the edges of my daylight hours but yet I hate the fact that regardless of my exhausted state of when I lay my head down I'll still be up at this same time trying to fight these unrelenting demons.

I really hope this will abate a little when MrD comes home. Now that we're prepping for a move to Germany in the late Spring I am wondering if that is just a naive thought. Oye.