Season of Love

Forgive me, readers (if you're still out there...). It has been three months since my last post. Here, for the sake of documentation, is a brief recap of the last 3 months:

1. The Whoodle continues to prosper. He can pretty much sit, "leave it" and be incredibly cute on command. He had his first shave-and-a-haircut (which he did not enjoy), and spent his first vacation with his amazing dog-sitter (which he did like... he growled at us and ran under the coffee table when we picked him up).

2. The baby-boom in my friend circle continues. In the last few weeks three babies were added to my world. I no longer feel like crying when a friend tells me she's pregnant. K and I are both loving our friends' babies, and I'm loving how beautiful and peaceful and excited K looks when she holds them.

3. K and I spent an incredible 16 days in Kenya. It felt like 3 trips in one: part safari, part professional conference, and part visiting friends. Such an amazing thing to see such a very different part of the world, and to experience it all with...

4. my FIANCE! K and I got engaged! She popped the question (after carrying the ring around for over a week, waiting for the perfect moment) over sushi at the site of our second ever date... just before taking me to see Dirty Dancin' for my birthday. Ranks up there with the Best Days Ever. Being the planners that we are, we have been happily wading around in spreadsheets, lists, and wedding magazines for the last month or so. (And on the post-wedding list: baby-making revisited... but not for a little over a year, so stay tuned...)

5. Which brings me to today: Our one year anniversary. It blows my mind what can happen in one year...where I was one year ago... in the midst of IVF, nervously excited to meet this mysterious match.com girl, figuring the romance would be over as soon as I told her I was trying to have a baby.

So today, May 20, I want to document how lucky I feel. How I believe in love, in planning and letting go, in going for it.

A Whoodle of Our Own

K and I are parents. Of a Whoodle. That's half-poodle, half-wheaton, in case you aren't versed in -oodles. He's 6 months old. We just celebrated our 9 month anniversary.

Lesbian math.

Here are some highlights of our 3-week and counting parenting adventures:

1. Finding said Whoodle on petfinder.com and just knowing he was the one for us. Congratulating ourselves on our abilities to find The One on the Internet (recall our beginnings on match.com).
2. Picking up said Whoodle from his lovely and doting foster mother at a movie theater parking lot after he bravely made the journey North from his homeland of Missouri. Falling in love at first sight.
3. Waking up at 3 in the morning that first night to let him out of his crate. (He was crying.) Feeling like it was Christmas, 3-way cuddling in our PJs (well, K&I were in our PJs. Whoodles don't wear PJs.) and taking middle-of-the-night pictures of our newest addition.
4. Introducing friends (human and dog) to the Whoodle (we can just call him W. Anonymity...) Feeling showered by their gifts of rawhides, homebaked treats, blankets, and books.
5. Taking W to doggie school, feeling sure that he would be the smartest one there, and then being utterly exhausted by his displays of ADHD during the first training session.
6. Showing off his cuteness at the dog park. Loving how he adapts his style of play to the dogs he's with (but not loving the latest style, learned just today, which involves humping).
7. Taking him to the vet together and being listed at co-parents. (This is the same vet where K held me as I held my beloved dog for the last time in September.)
8. Learning (the hard way -- via a Whoodle ambush) that W must be in his crate while the mommas are having Special Alone Time.

And now I've officially entered the things one should not talk about, and perhaps not even blog about. (Are there such things?)

Domesticity

K and I recently sent the following email to some coupled friends, and thought the replies were too useful -- brilliant, even! -- to keep to ourselves. What follows is our initial email, some of the many responses (categorized for easy reference), and the chores list that K and I subsequently came up with (and that, with our expert-friends’ advice, has turned out to be pretty simple and quite user-friendly, thus far).

THE ASK:

Dear friends,
If you are receiving this email (and you are), it is because we think we might be able to learn something from your wisdom/ experience. Just a few months into cohabitation, we're working on figuring out all the nitty gritty stuff... Who does the laundry? Who cooks? Who shovels out the car? Who goes to the grocery store? So what we'd love are any and all tips that you'd be willing to share... perhaps in the form of "what to do/ what not to do" or "here's what works for us." Don't worry that we'll blame you if your miracle cure doesn't fit our needs... we take full responsibility for our actions!

RESPONSES:

GENERAL WISDOM:
• I want to really commend you guys because you are doing the most important thing already: communicating and trying to develop some systems that work for you. That is so key.
• I love your question. It is so important. We often joke that we need a "wife," meaning, in modern times, we have to figure out all of this division of labor stuff that was all clear when women couldn't vote and lesbians couldn't live together. I guess freedom has come with some work. I try to think of it that way, which helps a little.
• Be clear about what you need. Don't expect the other person to know. Never say "you always, you never." Show your thanks. Surprise each other from time to time by doing something that's not your job.
• SO smart to get some guidance on this!
• Also, something we've recently started is the on your own schedule (within reason) rule. If we split up loads of laundry to fold and put away, I like to do it immediately and get annoyed if he lingers. But I've relaxed a bit and realize that he does always do it at some point that day (or the next).

ON BALANCE:
I like the idea of going for "aptitude/tolerance" over "equality" because as we know, it's hard to quantify some of this work. So figuring out what you are good at, what you enjoy doing, what you really hate doing or don't do well... all this I think helps.
This stuff shifts, right? I mean, sometimes one person is sick or stressed or overworked and the other needs to be a bit stronger. Ideally, that should sway in both directions.
• My first suggestion is to have each of your "own" regular things.
• I'd say each of us carries our own weight, but in very different realms. Luckily we like those realms a lot. She never says, "Hey - your turn to cook!" And I never say, "Furnace is busted - can you take care of that?" I'd like to think I do most of the laundry, but that's not true. She's like the tortoise (slow and steady, doing the day-in-day-out stuff that keeps this place running) and I'm like the hare doing fast and intense bursts of projects-making. She rakes. I shovel.
• I think you need to thank the other person for doing the dishes or laundry or whatever, even if it is their regular thing and it's no big deal.

IN THE KITCHEN:
• Whoever cooks doesn't do dishes. At other times, never let a dirty dish go unwashed if you can help it. If you see it, clean it.
• Me: cooking with creativity, her: sustenance cooking

ON LAUNDRY:
• I do all the laundry every weekend because I feel passionately about having clean clothes and sheets on Monday and having the dog's bed not smell.
• We share laundry. It is always initiated by her

ON GROCERIES:
• I do most of the grocery shopping because I enjoy it, and we go to farmer's market together on Saturdays because we enjoy that. He cooks way more than I do because he is better at it.
Way more fun together ESP on Sat. night.
• We food shop together.

CLEANING UP:
• Like, I always take out the recycling. He always takes out the trash.
• Share garbage
• Saturday mornings are a key time for us. usually, we wake up and spend a couple of hours doing house chores. now, it kind of just happens. He will start changing a lightbulb, I will be sweeping the kitchen. He goes out to shovel the snow if it snowed. I start dusting and putting books and newspapers away.
• Hire a cleaning person. Perhaps I should have said this first because she is key. It protects our marriage and sanity. Especially at first, when we couldn't figure out how to keep things clean with regularity. I will give you her number if you want.

UNSOLICITED:
Always have sex when your partner wants to. Even if you think you're tired. It always ends up good!
_________
Besides the obvious excellent tips, I was also heartened to learn that everyone deals with this stuff... the unromantic side of romance. Because I’m so proud of what K and I have come up with (and because I want to reward you for reading this far), here is our Very First (attempt at a) CHORE CHART (subject to change, but working very well so far):

CHORE CHART:
Daily:
dishes - whoever doesn’t cook
making coffee during week - K
making lunch - T
making dinner
Monday - T
Tuesday - Date Night!
Wednesday - T
Thursday - K
Friday - either
Saturday - either
Sunday - either
make bed - K

Sunday mornings
K-
kitchen counters
kitchen sink
kitchen floor
stove top
clean out fridge

T-
bathroom floor
toilet
tub
mirrors
bathroom counters/sink
laundry - sheets (with assistance from K)

Both (when finished):
all other floors: sweep/ swiff/ vacuum
spray surfaces (tables, etc.)
front hall (sweep, organize)

Weekly or As Needed:

laundry: Do our own! (This was K's idea, and I love it. So much less stressful!)
garbage (including bathroom and office) (WED) - both
recycling (WED) - both

shovel snow - K
water plants - K

grocery shop (weekly) - T (+K sometimes)
grocery shop (as needed for recipes) - K

And now I must go put out the recycling. (The careful reader will notice that it's Thursday and the recycling was supposed to go out last night. BUT the even more careful reader will notice that Monday was MLK day, so no garbage pick up.)

Sometimes It Only Takes 6 Months

Yesterday was mine and K's 6 month anniversary. You of the lesbian persuasion understand that this is actually more like 2 years for us, especially when you account for the intense jump-start our relationship had, starting, as it did, during my IVF cycle. So how do we celebrate six wonderful months? By moving in together!

Tomorrow I will begin a new chapter of my life, sharing my home not with the bouncing baby that I thought I was waiting for 6 months ago, but with the love of my life I didn't even know was out there.

My home will become our home and it will be filled with love, laughter, music, shared dreams, shared macaroni and cheese, and hundreds of books. And someday that baby will join us. But it feels like it's going to be a full and amazing home just as it is for now.

Pregnancy Rates

I thought about writing last week when my girlfriend's close friends had their baby. I thought it might help to write about how hard it is to muster happiness for other people when I'm so full of ugly jealousy. But instead of writing I watched an entire season of Weeds in two days and tried to ignore my feelings.

Then I thought about writing a few days later when my co-worker told me that she was pregnant. Instead I wallowed in self-pity and bought myself flowers and take-out.

I've thought about writing about making the heartbreaking decision to put my beloved dog to sleep last month, about holding him in my arms as he died, about kissing him and burying him and coming home to no dog every afternoon and waking up to no dog every morning.

I should write about how frustrating it is to hear story after story about women who get pregnant on their first try, or without even trying at all. About women who believe that it worked because they just wanted it so much. I could describe the fake smile I wear at baby showers or when friends tell me about their cribs and day care and pregnancy support groups.

I could write about how my good friends are due in one week, or about my other friend who had a successful ivf cycle just as mine failed and who is now carrying twins, or about another dear friend who just this afternoon came by my house to tell me that she is pregnant.

I could write about how I want so badly to feel joy for all of these people in my life. I don't want to be the person who cries tears of jealousy and frustration when she should be crying tears of happiness. I don't want my friends to be afraid to tell me their good news. I don't want to hear their good news.

I could retreat from my heart and find safety in my head where I know that it's better this way, spending time with my girlfriend, deepening our relationship, growing closer, and that we will start a family when the time is right. I could tell myself that it's not a race, not a competition, that I haven't fallen behind or failed or lost.

Right?

Making Womb

It's been a long time since I've posted. I guess I thought that since baby-making is on hold, maybe this blog would be on hold too. But I'm missing it right now, and figured I'd write. Missing it... I meant the blog, but maybe I also mean baby-making.

Let me back up.

It's been an amazing summer of growing closer to my girl, falling in love, making plans for the future, sharing our dreams -- all amazing stuff. And part of the amazingness is that I am now dreaming not of single, but double momma-hood. And I'm even believing that everything has happened for a reason -- all the failed attempts, the crazy timing of meeting my girl while in the midst of an unsuccessful ivf attempt, all of the suckiness of the past year... it's all led up to where I am now, and I'm loving where I am now.

But tonight I'm feeling some sadness.

It's been exactly a year since I had my first insemination. This time last year I was fantasizing about being that person everyone tells their friends about: that person who got pregnant on her first try! I was also newly off antidepressants, and within a few weeks, I'd be a mess. I could go back to read some of those early blog-posts, but I don't need to... I remember the sadness I carried around from the moment I got that first negative test result. I remember feeling alone, hopeless, frustrated. And even though I started to feel better once I got back on the meds a few months later, the constant failures made me feel...well, like a failure. And that sucked.

So I'm glad -- relieved -- not to be on that track at this point, one year later. And to know that when I do start trying again, it will be with an incredibly supportive, loving person by my side. So why do I feel sad tonight?

I'm cleaning my apartment, unpacking from a summer away, making room for my girl in my apartment, and decided to box up all of my pregnancy stuff: ovulation sticks, progesterone tablets, prenatal vitamins, needles and alcohol pads. I can't tell right now if it was the packing up that made me sad -- the putting away, putting on hold -- or the reminder of what an ordeal it was all of last year. Am I feeling sorry for my year-ago self, or myself right now? Today I ran into an old friend and her 10-month old. And tomorrow I will go visit a new friend and her 2-week old. All wonderful, of course, but still I'm left just a little teary.

I feel sure of my decision to put things on hold. There's no question that it's the right thing to do for my relationship, and baby-making will be there when we're ready to pick it up again... And that "we" does make me smile. But it's hard to get used to this new, pee-stick-free me. I think she's more relaxed; she's certainly more floaty and fulfilled. But she's missing something too.

Becoming Apparent

After 6 intrauterine inseminations and 6 weeks of IVF drugs, tests, and procedures, I am officially still not pregnant. Again. Yet this time the silver lining is actually quite apparent.

Fluffy Cloud Girl is now officially New Girlfriend, and I couldn't be happier. Of course I'm experiencing the frustration, disappointment, anger, shame (yes, shame... kind of hard to explain if you haven't been there, but it's hard not to internalize all of these failures..) of finding myself once again back at square one (ie. Not Pregnant), but this time Square One is filled with excitement and possibility and tenderness and beautiful flowers and comforting squeezes, and it's not a bad place to find myself.

Each failed cycle this year has brought with it amazing amounts of love and support -- in the form of chocolate chip cookies, walks, distractingly bad movies, kind words. And each time I have come through still in one piece, still focused on my dream of motherhood, always grateful and amazed by the support in my life. This time is no exception. Except this time I feel my dream widening and making room for some possible and significant re-writing. It's scary and it's wonderful and it's made me smile more than cry these last few days.

So, dear readers, the update (for now) is that I'm officially on a baby-making hiatus. Which doesn't mean the dream is over... just over there. I can still reach it and focus on it, but I can also reach for and focus on the fluffy, fluffy clouds around me. They are a wonderfully soft place to find myself landing.