Infertile or maybe not

For a long time now, I've thought of myself as an infertile person. I stopped using birth control in 1998, nine years ago. My ex and I tried hard to have a baby. We went as far as IVF. Twice. The second time was at the top rated clinic in the country for my age group. Nothing worked for us. Our diagnosis was officially unexplained, but everything pointed to me.

Fast forward through all of the heartache, failure, separation, and divorce to late last summer. I started seeing a new guy and I liked him. We discussed that the only way we'd have a family was through donor egg or adoption and that it was something we'd talk about seriously some day in the future. Six months later we found out that I was a month pregnant. Have I mentioned that I'm forty-two (forty-one at the time) years old and infertile?

I'm nineteen weeks along now. Everything is good with the baby. We've finally told everyone. I was sick for a short while. That photo of the birthday cake in the last photo? I can't believe I was able to eat a piece of it. Food was not my friend during that time (and I won't even mention how brutal the move was). But aside from that, I've felt great.

I'm offically thrilled (and still a little freaked out).

Moving and the blizzard

For my birthday back in December, I was planning to have some friends over to help me pack as my move was scheduled for two days afterwards. As it turned out, we had a blizzard instead. Here's a photo of my sole reinforcement showing up with groceries to get snowed in with me.

He even brought a homemade birthday cake.

Here are a couple of shots of the aftermath. Yes, that drift is halfway up the garage door and there were things in there that had to go to the new house. Fortunately, I was smart enough to park my car on the street rather than in the garage.

We did finish packing and the move did happen, largely due to my real estate agent and her well-paid snow blower guy. What I'm missing is a photo of the moving truck stuck up to it's axle at my new place. One of my new neighbors came over, not to welcome me to the neighborhood, but to ask when we were moving the truck. He's just lucky they got the truck out that day at all. I have a feeling that neighbor will be missing out on any fabulous parties I'm throwing in the next few years.

A big thanks to Ballpoint Wren for the shove I needed to get things going again. I promise more soon, including the thing that was consuming my life and kept me from saying anything at all.