Thursday, September 16, 2010


I don't know why it's only every six months or so that I feel compelled to blog; I always tell myself to do it more often and I really do mean to, but then I just don't get around to it. I'm hoping that as this new journey begins, I am better able to sit down and take a few minutes to document things as they happen, rather than doing huge update posts twice a year.

Much has changed since my last real post. In February (on Valentine's Day, in fact), we learned that the condo we had been renting for over two and a half years had gone into foreclosure and that we had 30 days to move. That's all the notice we had. Well, having filed for bankruptcy last September and having a young pitbull didn't help us in our rushed quest to find a new place to live, and hence we wound up living with my mother. It was very frightening and uncomfortable to be an independent married couple living back at home with a parent after living on your own for so long. And actually, the problem was never my mom; she was awesome. But her brother happens to live with her as well, and let's just say that I am not terribly fond of the man. Hubby and I had decided we would try to live there for at least 6 months to work on saving for a down payment on a house so we would never have to go through this again. Scott was hoping for a year; I told him that was a BIG maybe. My mom's house is quite lovely and spacious and on a big piece of land, but when you put 4 adults, 4 dogs, 3 cats, 3 chickens and a large tortoise on one piece of property, things start to feel cramped awfully quick. We had our bed, our dresser, our desk and our computers all crammed into my old bedroom and that was all the space we had, aside from my old bathroom which was for our exclusive use. Our bedroom was so tight you had to turn sideways and shimmy to get around the bed and dresser over to the desk. All the rest of our possessions --nearly everything we've acquired in our 7 years together-- sat cold and untouched in storage. After 5 months of feeling confined to our bedroom (because my uncle was always somewhere in the house being awkward and creepy, so I never wanted to go downstairs), I finally told my husband that I had had enough. I knew he wanted to stay longer and I totally understood his reasoning because I had it too. Rent has hugely increased, and moving would make saving anything damned near impossible. But I told him that if he wanted to keep his wife sane, we needed to start looking for a place to move.

After agreeing with me on a Friday night, I found a place on craigslist the next morning and asked if he wanted to go look at it. We loved it immediately, and the owner as well. She's real funky and free-spirited, and conveniently very handy. We told her straight up when we met her to see that house that we had filed for bankruptcy and that we had a pitbull, but that if she was willing to overlook those things (and actually MEET our awesome dog) that we would be awesome tenants, because we loved the house so much. She clearly appreciated our honesty, but she said she had a lot of other interest in the house and she wouldn't be making a decision until the middle of the week. We filled out an application that night anyway, despite our reservations about the cost (same price for a 2 bedroom 1 bathroom old 1930's house as we paid for our brand new 3 bedroom 2 1/2 bathroom brand new condo) because we didn't want to pass up the opportunity just in case. We expected nothing, seeing as she had many more qualified applicants and seeing as on the surface, we did not look like great tenants. To my intense surprise, she called the very next morning and said she wanted us to be her tenants. Apparently she really appreciated our honesty, but most importantly she appreciated that we love the house so much. It's old and quirky and has so much funk, and it's so close to everything. She knew we would love her house and take care of it. Long story short (well, a little), we moved in less than a week later. She met Daisy and adored her and had no problem with her whatsoever. We're broke, but living in such a tight situation really put things into perspective for both of us, and we are just so happy to have our own beautiful space again that we don't care that money is tight. We will survive; we always do. And in this case, we know how to survive and be happy and grateful for what we have, and grateful for a kind person believing that people who have made mistakes in the past are not bad people.

Another perk to being back on our own again is that we can re-focus ourselves on goals we had before the foreclosure fiasco. We had been talking to a fertility specialist in the end of last year/beginning of this year; we had some tests done and a couple of phone consultations, and he advised us to give it a shot naturally for a few more months. Of course, once we had to move in with my mom, things got put on hold because let's face it... who wants to get pregnant while living with their mother?? Not me! This was another reason I wanted to get out... having to put that dream of a family on hold was devastating; I tried not to think about it but found it difficult to cope with. But now that we're on our own again and have settled down (we've been here about a month now), we decided last night to pick up where we left off. This morning I called the fertility center to set up our first face-to-face appointment and to set up our treatment plan, since we've already done all the necessary testing and discussed it via telephone. We have an appointment next Thursday morning; and I'm excited and terrified. Excited for obvious reasons: this doctor is one of the top fertility specialists in the country, and he is willing to help us despite my weight, unlike most other doctors I have talked to. He understands that while there is greater risk for me and a baby during my pregnancy, that I am willing to take that risk and take the best possible care of myself to provide the best outcome possible. He understands that just because I'm fat, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be able to have a family if we want to. Terrified because money is already tight, and fertility treatment is not cheap. Our first appointment alone is $350. Things will be tight but we are willing to do whatever necessary to have the family we've been dreaming of. The worry is strong, but the excitement and hope is overshadowing it enough that I can't force myself to entirely care. It's been so long since I have felt hope for this particular issue that I can't help but want to sing. Even if things don't work, at least Dr. Herbert is giving us the chance to try.

The past 6 months have been a fairly dark period for us, but now that we are in a beautiful house of our own again and hopefully at the beginning of our journey to parenthood, things feel so much brighter. I've never felt so blessed and hopeful and excited in my life.

Updates to come next week (for sure) after our first appointment!