Posts from — July 2009

It’s hard to update here because the Internet connections are terrible. Major fail, Sheraton. And I apologize for any type-os because it is loud and crazy and chaotic here and I’m finding myself becoming fried as the conference continues.

So I left off at last night. After lunch and the Op-Ed session (I still have to upload my notes from that), I went upstairs and got dressed because…I had to be ready for the keynote. You’ll see what I read below, but the night before I flew to Chicago, I decided to wear part of the costume. The bottom part.

So I grabbed the boots, grabbed a pair of stockings, and then went looking for the bottom part of the outfit which was the black garter contraption. I took apart three drawers, took the drawers out of the dresser to check if it had fallen over the back of a drawer, and finally found them in a random bag in my closet. Five years since I last wore them.

Eden Kennedy introducing the Community Keynote

Speaking at the podium

My head, huge on the television screen

Showing some garter action

The Community Keynote group

I read my piece at the community keynote and that video will be available soon online. You can read the edited version of the post below. And then we went to the cocktail party and met all these cool bloggers and even got a seated massage.

Red Headed Lefty and Me

The Dana Files and Me

Cecily and Dana

Me and Ask Moxie

I swung through some parties and I have to admit this—last year, I grabbed no swag. I didn’t even venture really into the Expo Hall and I turned down bags when they were offered. And this year, I started down this road and now (Io as my witness this morning), I have become a maniac. I went back to one place and got three versions of the same toy for Baby Fred. I took freakin’ Mary Kay make-up—I don’t even wear make-up. So I waited in line last night and got some bags of stuff (a tiara, which the ChickieNob is excited to wear). And then I got to the real stuff.

I got to meet Mommy Wants Vodka, Apron Strings for Emily, and Who Shot My Stork! Aunt Becky had to leave, but Emily and Io and I went out for dinner/dessert. It was such an amazing time. First of all, they’re hysterically funny. And I cried meeting Io (I got to meet Emily at lunch so I got all my tears over then). I mean, she’s Io! And she’s wonderful. And we had a great time.

Emily, Me, Io, and Becky

I got back to the hotel and collapsed and woke up early to have breakfast and I met Dave Lieberman in the hallway and had my picture taken with him. Io found me and we walked around the Expo Hall, taking more swag. And then dropped it off and went to a session that I thought would be about something else, but gave me more ideas along the line of group Kirtsying to get our posts into the general community. Give me a few days to gather my thoughts on it and get it going in mid-August.

Me and Dave

Lookey here, I’m signing my book this afternoon

Laurie Kingston and Me

But here is what I read for the community keynote…

The Community Keynote Piece:

Loss is inherent in infertility–the negative beta at the end of the cycle, diminishing hope, forgoing opportunities. Mixed in with the loss is the physical pain and the emotional embarrassment. The financial holes and constant anxiety. And, of course, shwanking off in public.

When my husband, Josh, would complain about the donation rooms, I would lift up my shirt to show him my bruised belly. How could he ever compare rubbing one out with nightly injections?

And then I took a field trip to the donation rooms and listened to the nurses discussing the viscosity of a semen sample on the other side of the thin wall and I had a newfound appreciation for my husband’s prowess to zone in on an image of breasts (always my own, always my own) and get the job done despite the andrologist crooning “Careless Whisper” in his office, three feet away.

On the morning of our first IUI, we drove to the clinic, bleary-eyed from lack of coffee and somewhat anxious to see if this next step would work. When he was called back to the room, he seemed a little surprised that I was coming with him.

“I think you wait here,” he said.

“I’m coming back for moral support,” I said to the nurse. “If that’s okay.”

“Fine,” the squat, German woman barked. She paused outside of tiny room that contained a barcalounger, magazine rack, television set, and a sink counter containing a sealed collection vial.

She looked at me suspiciously and reminded me three times in quick succession that in order for it to be a clean specimen, I could not use my mouth.

“I will not use my mouth,” I promised. “I’ll be very quiet. I won’t touch anything. I’ll just read one of the magazines.”

“No mouth,” she repeated a final time, picking up the sealed donation vial and slamming it down on the counter as a final reminder of her wrath should my lips creep close to anything that is currently under her domain.

And this is what babymaking at the clinic is like. Someone else is conducting your intimacy and someone else is setting the time. And frankly, someone else is doing the job. It can be sobering, stilling to think about how much this process is out of your hands, the wonder removed, the love vacuumed out of it in the quest for a clean specimen. But that was why I was there. I was taking back the porn.

“I don’t know if I can perform if you’re going to be watching,” my husband admitted.

“Oh, I’m not going to be watching,” I said.

And that is when I stripped off the oversized grey sweatshirt and wide-legged jeans to reveal a black merry widow-like contraption with garters and thigh-high black stockings peeking out over knee-high boots. I unhooked my barrette and let my hair tumble down past my shoulders. “I’m Hilde,” I breathed.

“Hilde?” my husband asked unsteadily. “Like your great uncle’s girlfriend?”

Which wasn’t the reaction I had been hoping for. I had sort of assumed that the outfit would cause immediate schwangage–that he’d have to dive for the collection cup in slow motion to catch the stream of semen shooting out just from the mere site of his wife parading in front of him in material that was black and shimmery and see-through.

“I’m Hilde,” I said, shaking my ass a bit in his face as I leaned over to check out the porn in the magazine rack. I should have gone for the slow reveal. “Perhaps we should get to know each other,” I murmured, trying to look at him through my lashes without getting a headache. “I have a lot of secrets.”

“Really, Hilde? Secrets,” Josh said, not really making any motions that would get us out of this room.

“Lots of secrets,” I moaned. “Here’s the first one. Why don’t you just get your donation vial ready and we can begin.”

“Mel,” he said gently. “I think you’re beautiful in that. Hot. I wish you’d actually wear something like that at home. But…I love you. I want to make this baby with you.”

For him, it wasn’t about what was lost. It wasn’t about everything that came before or even this moment itself. It was about looking forward, thinking about what we were creating together. It d
idn’t matter if it took place at home or in an office or in the single-stall Starbucks bathroom–the end result would be the same. Parenthood. A child.

That is how we tuned out the conversation happening on the other side of that door; the whore and the madonna, sitting on the floor, holding his knees just so I could feel connected in some way to the experience. My eyes averted, a quiet connection, a return to the continuous mantra chanted by the heart, “could this be our chance could this be our chance couldthisbeourchance”.

All to the tune of “Careless Whisper.”

At lunch time, a bunch of ALI bloggers got together in the lobby so both BlogHer people and Chicago people could see each other. We had Cecily, Julia, Emily, Aurelia, Kate, Kathy, Briar, Magpie, Alexa, and Me. Later on, Jenny, Amalah, and Gwen stopped by. It was so much fun and I loved getting to spend time with everyone. This is why I go to BlogHer—to get to see the people I read.

The Bloggess is also one of the people here with Nora’s head so…here, Nora, your head was at lunch too. And you thought the mozzarella salad was delicious.

Kathy

Briar

Emily and Alexa

The elusive Aurelia and Kathy

Alexa and Kate

Cecily and Julia

Cecily, Magpie, Julia

Briar, Cecily and Magpie

Magpie and Julia

Emily and Alexa

Alexa and Kate

Kathy and Me

Amalah

Amalah and Julia

Me and Jenny with Nora’s head

Jenny and Cecily

Cecily and Gwen

Oh, and I also met Rick Bayless who gave me an excellent tip on mellowing the taste of garlic (put peeled garlic clove in a small dish of water and microwave it for 45 seconds to blanch it before using). And I had my picture taken with Mrs. Potato Head because she’s Mrs. Potato Head.

And the ALL fairies just because the ChickieNob loves fairies. Perhaps not ones with hairy legs, but these two will have to do. Um…only the man had hairy legs. And that’s really the pot calling the kettle black if you saw my legs right now.

Oh, and I got the date and day of the week wrong. So mark Sunday the 9th of August 2010 for the ALI get together in New York City.

I have to give you my notes from Katie Orenstein’s absolutely brilliant Op-Ed panel and the pictures from the blogger lunch, but first, I wanted to upload these pics from Briar’s panel. I went to the first panel called MommyBlogging: Have You Found Your MommyBlogging Tribe. Which is sort of funny to have an IF blogger in there, but she is a mommy nonetheless.

The other bloggers on the panel were Megan Jordan (Velveteen Mind), Kelby Carr (Type A Mom), Renee Ross (Cutie Booty Cakes), and Briar Sauro (Unwellness).

I ended up having to leave midway due to a broken necklace incident (the twins had kissed it before I left and I was absolutely nut-job about having it around my neck), but I wrote down some really interesting thoughts:

• Because IF is so emotional, we blog every moment of it to process it. But what happens afterwards, when you don’t need to talk as much. It’s hard to move from IF blogger to mommyblogger.
• When a blogger gets under stress, that’s when people blog more. Connect more.
• Jump into what you want to do. Never be afraid to comment. You do not need an invitation to connect with another person.
• Meeting people face-to-face is like “live commenting.”

For me, this panel brought it back to the importance of the comment. How that is where community is built. If not, you’re just sitting alone with your words. Hence why we should all do IComLeavWe. Just saying…the next list opens at the end of the month.

The CEOs of BlogHer at the opening discussion (Elisa, Jory, and Lisa)

Just to give you a sense of the scope of the room.

Badgermama, Everyday Goddess, Zandria

The day kicked off with a discussion on blogging with Elisa, Jory, and Lisa, the CEOs of BlogHer. They are such great speakers and they set a wonderful tone to the conference–balancing fun with information. They announced at BlogHer ’10 will be in New York. I would like to set up a dinner/social event for ALI bloggers either the night before or the night after–something that doesn’t compete with the established conference events, but that allows those going to the conference to mix with those in the area. So…set out Sunday, August 6th on your calendar right now and we’ll have a lunch or an afternoon activity or a dinner. Yes, we are finally going to have our own ALI event and tack it on so people can travel once and see a lot of people.

Coming up next time I post…the ALI lunch, the brilliant Op-Ed session, and my community keynote props (I hope someone tapes it!).

You can read all my BlogHer posts from this link.

Thursday night kicked off with a bunch of parties. The first one was a small one for BlogHer CEs and speakers. I got to hang out a lot with Briar from Unwellness. I met Kate from Sweet/Salty when I asked her to take my picture with Briar and then in figuring out that we knew each other, both shrieked. I know that last sentence didn’t make sense grammatically, but I’m really tired. TW and Denise won a blackberry at the party and they gave it to me, which has earned them my eternal love as well as that of the Wolvog. I sent him an email tonight to let him know that electronics are on their way.

Sassymonkey, LaurieWrites, and Zandria

Deb, Zandria, and Denise

TW and Denise and I with the blackberry. I love you, Denise and TW. I love you Sprint!

Kate from Sweet/Salty and me

Me and Briar from Unwellness

Briar and Kate

The purple drink the bartender convinced me to try. I almost ended up drinking the sample copy, much to my chagrin.

Sassymonkey, Laurie, and Sarah and the Goon Squad

Suzanne and Pam

At the People’s Party, I met Magpie from Magpie Musings and Aurelia from No Matter How Small (though she is not pictured). And I met up with Alexa. And Cecily and Sarah again. And really cool people like Red Headed Lefty. Magpie and I have Nora’s head on a stick, so we brought her to the party.

Side notes: Bl
ogHer ’10 will be in New York! They announced it today. Also, there is obviously not going to be a Roundup today because I overshot how much time I would have to write thoughtful posts. But stay tuned because we are having an ALI meetup at lunch, I’m about to blog Briar’s panel, and I will be uploading pictures and posting news throughout the day.

I am here, but before I arrived her at BlogHer, I had to allow myself to be a bleeding mess. A weepy, Ativan-saturated mess with second thoughts and a close call of no socks for the second trip in a row.

Yesterday was a family holiday known as Wolvog Day. It floats along the family calendar and pops up once a year (there is also a ChickieNob Day). The way one knows that it is Wolvog Day is that you go down to your chair in the kitchen and it is completely decorated in all the things you love. So we had stacked up toys and candy and pictures of cars and iPhones. On Wolvog Day, the Wolvog gets to choose all the activities and meals so he kicked off the day with a bagel, led us to a car dealership where he pretended to drive a $104,000 Jaguar, lunch at Whole Foods, and then the Verizon store. We came home, made dough for homemade pizzas, and then went to see a local swim meet after dinner. All in all, the perfect day.

And it was so perfect that I couldn’t pack. It was 11 p.m. and I still hadn’t packed because I was miserable over the idea of leaving. I don’t like to be away from home and I especially don’t like to be away from the twins. They gave me long cuddles and told me to bring them home bags of swag. Finally, at 11:30, with the Colbert Show starting, I dragged out my suitcase and started to unroll a new pair of pants I ordered from J Jill. Except they were the wrong pants. They sent me the wrong pants. I own no pants.

Which is why I’m wearing my old jeans to BlogHer. Sorry Tim Gunn.

Then I needed my garters. I wear garters because I am so damn short that traditional stockings end up somewhere around my bra’s underwire. They are also a prop for the Community Keynote so we had a take-apart the whole house moment where we finally found them at the bottom of a bag that once contained boots. How did they get there? I don’t know.

Then I closed the suitcase and realized I forgot to pack socks. Again. Because I seriously cannot handle placing items inside suitcases.

And then I got into bed around 1 a.m. And I felt this overwhelming roll of sadness that started behind my eyes and moved down over my heart. Stilling me. I wanted to go and I didn’t want to go. I woke up several more times in the night, each time untangling my brain by reminding myself that I would be leaving in 6 hours. I would be leaving in 3 1/2 hours. I would be leaving in 2 hours.

The twins had a hard time separating this morning and I had a hard time separating this morning and I went to the plane feeling like I should be in two places at once. And then I took Ativan so I could board the flight without flipping out and then the Ativan kicked in somewhere over Ohio and I felt calm with the idea that I was thousands of feet above the earth and again, this overwhelming sadness to be away from the twins that felt like it was crumpling up my inner layers. As if the inner layers had pulled away, lost their adhesion to the outer wall of the body, and now were crumpling and twisting and crunching themselves down.

I sound like a flaming nut-job.

I am writing this still under an Ativan film.

I shared a taxi with a lovely woman named Tanya who is also from Maryland. She is going to BlogHer, representing an organization called CurrentMom. We got to the hotel and I immediately saw Cecily and Sarah in the lobby, waiting for their room.

Cecily from Uppercase Woman

Sarah from Sad and Beautiful

I went out to get lunch, and now, instead of the sadness about the twins, adding to that was a feeling that I can only liken to New Years Eve 1999. A little before New Years Eve, I broke up with my boyfriend. I wouldn’t meet Josh for a few more weeks. And I needed something incredible to do. It was the turning of a new millenium, every computer in the city was going to break, the world was going to go into mayhem, and my future children were going to want to know what I was doing when the world imploded.

A friend told me to come with her a party, and I was happy to have something to do, but it didn’t feel like it was enough. This was New Years–it only comes once a year and this special New Years was only going to come once in our life times at that. I mentioned this to a friend at the party and he promised to find me at midnight and kiss me. I spent the whole evening anxious that he’d forget and the moment would be ruined, but he found me at 11:58, held my shoulders while we counted down, and then gave me this incredible kiss. He topped himself by leading me up to the roof of the building so we could over look Adams Morgan and see the fire works and kiss some more. And after a few moments, he pulled back and looked at me seriously and said, “did I do well? Did I give you your moment?”

And that’s sort of the thing about BlogHer. You feel like you can’t take it in. It only happens once a year, so you want to do it well, but doing it “well” sometimes means going against true impulses and trying activities just for the sake of feeling like you sucked the marrow out of the event. I skipped all the parties last year and people kept telling me that I had done things wrong. So I decided to swing by two parties or so this year, but people are telling me that I’m still doing it wrong. And I am–I’m doing it wrong by their standards and as someone who is so not a party person, I’m doing it wrong by my standards.

The place I am excited to be is in the panels. And the ALI bloggers lunch tomorrow. And live blogging from the discussions. And the community keynote. And just meeting so many new people that I would have never had the chance to find if I had been left to my own small corner of the blogosphere. Many more updates will follow between now and Sunday.

Which means that this blog may become a little busy for a bit, and feel free to skip around and only read entries that interest you. Though two things:

We’re still under 100 posts on the DIY Roundup Extravaganza and they’re due tomorrow–Friday. You read stuff every day. You love stuff every day. Now tell us what you love. Don’t get thrown off by the coding thing. Just cut-and-paste the url; we’ll figure it out. One day, people, one day. For the love, at le
ast we can hit 100 posts.

And the Show and Tell is still open and kicking. Come show the class something from your world this week.