the one where you learn WAY more about me than you ever really wanted to know

Because, why not book-end a post about depression with a little dose of TMI?

Ok, So, I figured that the masses (or really just you DDTM, Lemons, girlymama, Em, Rachel, Ellen, Lynn, and you too Robyn! Hey, that’s eight readers! Go me!) would want to know what the heck I was talking about in this post when I mentioned infertility.

So I’ll tell you. But I’m warning you, there’s talk of menstrual cycles and ovaries and the like. It won’t be pretty.

Ok, so some history.

You know, if you’re going to read this it may be awkward the next time we see one another. I mean really. I’m going to use the word period, and not in reference to that cute little dot-thing that ends a sentence. Here’s your chance to back out. I’m just sayin’.

Back to the history.

The period. That lovely little week-long torture session that reminds us that we are, in fact, females just in case we had forgotten during the other 23 blissfully blood-free days in the month.

The cool thing? I have never gotten one regularly. I mean like, monthly. Sometimes I would skip months. I gotta tell you though friends, I was never worried. Seriously. Some people were all “Oh, you really should mention that to your Doctor.” or “That’s just not normal, maybe you should get that checked out.” But I’m here to tell you that those little “moments of concern” on the part of every other female were really moments of JEALOUSY. Don’t try to deny it. You would have been/are too.

So anyway, I was never concerned.

And so, the week before my husband left in November, I got my period (see why I don’t miss it? That was really not a great going-away present). And I was due to get it again upon his return in December around Christmas time (you know, if I was on a normal 28-day cycle) but I didn’t! Yay unregularness that is my female reproductive system!

But then, I didn’t get it in January either, and I was all “Oh my word am I pregnant?! How terrible would that be with my husband deployed? How will I ever handle this?! Oh the humanity!” And then I took a pregnancy test because what other explanation could there possibly be for all of that emotion? (The correct answer to that question is “Um, that your husband was just deployed to a foreign land for a year.” But you know, whatever.)

So it came back negative, and I’m all “Whew, that was close.” But some genius girl in one of my classes said something like “Oh, that doesn’t mean anything, my pregnancy tests came back negative with both of my sons.” So, I’m like whatever, that’s just you. (What I really thought was “Who sells those things anyway? What’s the purpose if they’re not accurate?!”) And when I didn’t get my period on the day (and subsequent days) in February that I was supposed to, I figured that was maybe the time I should go visit the Doctor that no female enjoys visiting.

So I did, and I ran over my symptoms with her and she was like “Well, it sounds to me like your ovaries are Polycystic.” And I mean to tell you that I had a stroke of some sort right in her office because I know what that means because my best friend has that and I learned a lot about it in her early days of figuring it all out. And she must have seen my face drop to the floor, because all of a sudden she tried changing her story to tell me about some other possibilities that could be causing my period to hide for three months.

But all I heard was Polycystic. It just kept ringing in my head. And aside from the fact that it affects a plethora of different things with the female body, the one fact about it that hit me the hardest was that it causes infertility in women. NOT something you want to hear when you actually want children.

Now, it is not impossible for women with PCOS to get pregnant. After all, Lemons did just have a beautiful baby girl, and my other friend who has it has four, that’s FOUR children. But still. When it seems as though all your mother had to do was just walk by your father to get pregnant, (and really, that’s how it happened anyway) then you never really think that infertility will be a blip on your radar.

I was really upset.

They sent me for blood tests and ultra-sounds and stuff to figure out what the heck is going on with me.

Incidentally, on the day they called me to tell me that I was not pregnant (it was one of the blood tests they took) I ended up getting my period. Doesn’t it figure?

So now, a month later, I went back to find out the results of all of that torture. And you wanna know the report?

Nothin’. Not a single thing is wrong. My hormones are fine, my thyroid is great, and my ovaries are cyst-free. She even said that I’m not required to go on birth-control as long as I have at least 4 periods a year. So you know what? All that worrying got me absolutely nothing.

And this is why I hate going to the Doctor. Any questions?

uncharted territory

I’ve always been a pretty happy-go-lucky person. Very optimistic. A friendly, people person. Loyal friend/companion. I believe that these are traits that others would use to describe me as well.

However, I possess a combination of personality traits that in some people can be detrimental.

I am an over-achieving, people pleaser.

While to you this may not seem to be so bad, and really, it hasn’t to me until now, I’m realizing more and more just how dangerous this combination truly is.

All of my life, up until my husband’s deployment, I’ve had someone reigning me in, telling me what I should and shouldn’t take on (not in a bossy way, just an advice-driven way) in my schedule so as not to overwhelm myself. My parents have always been good about telling me when I need to cut things out and then when I got married, my husband took over this responsibility since I just have no sense of when to quit.

Now that Luke’s gone, I’ve all but run myself into the ground. (actually, I’m pretty much there) I’m in charge of my own schedule and I firmly believe that I’ve lost control. I can’t say no. But worse than that (to me anyway) is that I’m not excelling at all that I’m doing.

Gone is the person I’m used to being. The helpful, sane, logical, person you all know and love.

I have never (by the Grace of God) faced depression, anxiety, or anything of the like. However, I think that in some capacity or another, I have faced all three since Luke left and they’ve gotten progressively worse as the months have.

I work a lot, I volunteer too much of my free-time, and I’m in school. Add to that the stress of the year-long absence of my husband and the recent possibility (albeit unconfirmed) of some infertility issues I’m facing (don’t go searching the archives for this one, I haven’t blogged it yet), and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

What’s worse is that I’m not confiding in anyone except for my husband, which always adds fuel to the fire. I don’t want to argue my schedule with him every time we talk, but as I become more and more stressed, he’s the one to bear the brunt of it. It’s awful.

On paper, I know what I have to do. I know who I have to say no to and when. The problem is that as soon as I think it, I go right back to my people-pleasing tendencies and lose all sense of what responsibility I have to God, my Husband and myself to remain healthy and happy (word used loosely) until my husband’s return.

Plus, with all of this stress, I’m making myself sick. I’m not a cold/flu/sick kind of gal. In most cases, I’ve been able to avoid even the most contagious “strands” going around, and so far this year I’ve caught Every. Single. One. It’s so unlike me. I stayed home sick from work today. I have some sort of nasal/chest congestion thing.

My (first) nephew was just born, and I’m terrified to go visit him lest I plague him with this illness in his first few days of life. While I’m sure his mother (and father) appreciates this, I hate that it’s even and issue.

I just want to feel normal again. To be with my husband, to be the person who friends and family enjoy being around. To not dread the sound of my cell phone or my alarm clock. To be able to answer the question “How are you?” without having to choke back tears and suffer through the answer “Good…” without feeling like a liar. I just want him to come home. I’d rather not have this scorch mark, this struggle in my life. I’d rather not feel like I just threw myself a pity party.

I’d rather not tell the people who I have to, the word “no”.

rave reviews for the new ‘do! plus other events from the weekend

“It’s sassy!” said SaintRAV

“Fancythis, you really should take a picture and send it to your husband, you look so cute!” said Kim

“It’s the style of the century!” (seriously) said Kathie

“Just adorable.” said Aunt Rita

Well, everyone’s talking about my new haircut in which I hacked (or really, Claire did) yet another inch off of my hair, something I swore I’d never do, even just 2 months ago. So, do you wanna see it? Here you go:

I did it right before McShann’s (“former youth leader”) wedding, which brings me to the long-awaited showing of the dress. You ready?

And of course a shot of the wedding crew (some of them anyway!), Congratulations Mike and Katie!

Their wedding was an absolute blast in which I danced the night away with good friends who didn’t let me sit out on a single song just because my husband wasn’t there to dance with me. (Of course, being that he’s not much of a dancer, it probably would have been that way even if he was here!)

Which brings us to today, which is certainly the most important in my world. Hallelujah! He’s alive. Happy Easter to you all, may you find hope in the resurrection of Christ Jesus, our Lord.

never devoid of shock trauma here at the sunny side of life

Today is the wedding of my former youth leader to his lovely lady and for the occasion, I had my hair did.  Just “trimmed”* and colored. Not like an up-do or anything, I’m not in the wedding.

Since DCRmom asked me to post a pic of the dress, I will do just that, but there’s also another surprise in it for you that has to do with the little asterisk mark above.

*I did NOT just get it trimmed!

But you’ll have to wait for me to put my face on before I’m willing to post any pictures.

You’re going to love it! I know I do.

why you should never buy clothes online unless you’ve been able to try them on first and hey! check this out!

Remember the dress I was telling you about that I bought for the wedding this weekend?

I don’t like it.

It came in yesterday, and I tried it on, and it is snug in all of the wrong places. Now, I do think that If I had lost 20 pounds already, this wouldn’t so much be a problem. But I haven’t, and so it is.

I do like the dress which makes me wonder if I should hang on to it for when I do lose the weight, but I haven’t decided on that yet. I do have to make that decision soon though, as I can only return it for my money back within 30 days.

My good friend Ellen, who you’ve seen comment on here before as “Juanita’s Mom” has finally (seriously, she should have done it MONTHS ago!) started a blog. She’s a former Enlgish teacher (I think) and so not only is she good at the whole writing thing, but she’s got a killer sense of humor and 2 adorable children, so you should really add her to your blogroll and check her the heck out.

She’s been blogging for about a month now, but I was just given the go-ahead to inform the masses of her newest venture. Stop by and pay her a visit!

higgledy piggledy

I could really make ENTIRE posts out of the following points, but I’ve decided to summarize here. For your sake. Aren’t I kind?

1. So, what was THE NEWS? Well, I’m glad you asked. Long ago in a land far away…..ok kidding, I just figured I’d never actually be able to start a real story off with that, so I figured I’d attempt in here.  Anyway, the news. I used to work at the Men’s Wearhouse. I made lots of friends when I worked there, and really developed some close bonds with some of the guys. One guy in particular was one of the assistant managers who couldn’t have been more of an opposite of mine as a very staunch atheist and a very liberal democrat. So we always had very interesting, and on some occasions, heated discussions about faith, religion, politics and the like. But I spent a lot of time sharing my faith with this man who was very open to everything I had to say and in spite of the fact that we always disagreed with one another, there isn’t another person in this world with whom I enjoyed such discussions. We really got down to the nitty gritty of things and remained good friends up until the moment I resigned, after which we lost touch. So, when “former youth leader” went in to the Men’s Wearhouse to rent the tuxes for his wedding, guess who waited on him? Yup, you guessed it, my former assistant manager who told “former youth leader to “…..tell Fancythis she was right…..” and has since converted to Christianity. (as an aside, I really hate that phrase, it makes us sound cult-like, which we’re not, and so cold and impersonal, which we’re not. But you know, semantics are funny like that) I was just tickled pink and needless to say, in awe of the way God works sometimes.

2. I purchased yet another dress, (which, incidentally, I am not able to show you because apparently, The Limited doesn’t allow you to browse their collections on-line!) this one to wear for the wedding I have coming up in June (it’s SO far away! However will I wait that long?!) It’s GORGEOUS! It’s a black strapless with big white flowers. LOVELY! And I bought these shoes to go with it. And this clutch. With this a really pretty necklace (which I also can’t find a picture of) that brings it all together. Fabulous!

3. I’m thinking of re-vamping the ol’ blog. DCRMom has just started her own “business” “Beautifying the Blogosphere”(not the name of the business, just her tagline) and I’m thinking of giving her a shot at mine! I might even change the name of my blog. Imagine that!

That’s really all. I think there was more in my head when I started this post, but after frantically searching for links to my new ensemble I’ve plum forgot most of what I set out to do.

Oh well, you can’t win ‘em all!

intrigue

**Warning: I ain’t gonna lie, this is kind of a long post. I don’t usually like to make them this long, but this one is worth it. I promise** 

I have a confession to make:

I NEVER check my voice-mail. NEVER.

Ok, not never, just rarely. Very rarely.

As in, I wait until I have about 30+ voice-mail to check it, because the thought of talking to people on the phone makes me crazy. Seriously. What is SO important that you can’t wait to tell me until we see one another again?

You should be able to come to the conclusion that since I’m able to get 30+ voice-mails so quickly, that I never actually answer my phone. There are 4 reasons for this.

1. When I’m at work, I put my phone on silent so as not to disturb those with whom I work. I always forget to take it off of silent mode once work is over and therefore rarely hear it ring.

2. I’m a busy lady. Seriously. I work (including the “Nanny” thing) about 45-50 hours a week, plus I take 3, three-hour classes and volunteer for youth group on FRIDAY nights. This leaves Saturday (when I clean and have some semblance of a social life) Wednesday (night, in which I usually give myself a mid-week break or do homework) and Sunday in which I rest (or try to) because, well, God did and so should I. So, I’m sure that it’s obvious to you that because my personal time is so precious, the last thing I want to be bothered with is a phone call.

3. I’m an administrative assistant. It is MY JOB to answer phones (among other things) and so even if my schedule wasn’t as crazy as number 2 indicates, the likelihood that I would spend time on the phone after work isn’t all that great. Plus, right after I leave work and for the next hour thereafter my first inclination after hearing any phone ring is to pick up and say “Thank you for calling Glasgow Church, this is Fancythis, how may I help you?”

4. I’m lazy. On the off-chance that I remembered to take my phone off of silent mode, and I hear it ringing, it’s usually in some place which requires that I get up from the couch (a place I rarely sit these days) walk over to my purse, dig the phone out, and say hello. That’s too much effort for anyone but my husband. And those are just the facts.

There are exceptions to those rules. Like a phone number I don’t recognize, or someone who wouldn’t ordinarily call me. I will answer the phone, or at the very least, check voice-mail on those particular occasions.

Tonight was one of those exceptional nights in that BOTH exceptions to the rules occurred. All in one day!

One of my former youth leaders (one of the ones who’s getting married and therefore required a brand new dress purchase) called today. He rarely calls me and so I felt this warranted a call-back. He left a voice-mail, but why spend time listening to it if I’m just calling him back anyway and then I’ll have to listen to why he called me twice. Twice! No thank you. So I called, and got sent straight to his voice-mail where I left some clever message like “Hey, it’s Fancythis returning your call, call me back!” (groundbreaking, I tell you) and went about my merry way.

Fast-forward to class tonight.

I was sitting there, not paying attention to my professor, when I noticed that someone was calling. It was a number I didn’t recognize and get this - they called 2 times in the span of 5 minutes! Surely this must be important (not important enough to walk out of class to make sure it wasn’t urgent, mind you) and so I will DEFINITELY be checking voice-mail after this!

So I did.

When I got to the voice-mail left earlier in the day by my former youth leader, do you know what it said Internets, do you? Well I’ll tell you, because of course you don’t!

It said (the paraphrased version):

“Hey Fancythis, it’s “former youth leader”. I was just calling to make sure that you would be at youth group tomorrow night during my talk because I’m going to be bringing you up and utilizing you as part of it. Also, I have something to tell you, but I won’t tell you until tomorrow night in front of the youth group.”

I know right? Who else isn’t TOTALLY dying to find out what the heck is going on?!

I didn’t even care about the other message I got from the person who called me twice in a row. Something about I owe $60 for a bridesmaid dress that I was fitted for like, forever ago, and I have to pay by Saturday otherwise I won’t get the dress. But darnit, I haven’t cared about picking up the dress because they’ve called the wedding off 80,000 times! I don’t want to pay that $60 if this dress ain’t gettin’ put to good use, savvy?

But man, what could this other message mean?! Did I win the lottery? Did he go straight to President Bush and demand that my husband be sent home to me immediately and they’re going to surprise me at youth group tomorrow? What could it be?

I don’t know. But as soon as I know, you’ll know.

After other more important people, I mean.

things i’m missing…..right now

kisses

hugs

sleeping in on saturday morning…..with him

long talks about absolutely nothing

long talks about everything that’s of value to us

the warm spot in the bed next to me

our own apartment

caramel eyes with flecks of green

auburn hair

that dimple

caused by the smile

that makes me smile……..

baby season! no, wedding season!

Big dilemma, ya’ll. Huge. Monumental, even.

I need fashion advice.

I know, me. The fashion guru. The one who just watches E! and figures it out on her own needs your help.

So, 2 of my former youth leaders are getting married this year and within a couple of months of each other. I figured it would be the perfect time to get a new dress.

Well, I’ll be honest. The way my figure is these days, I was not looking forward to the prospect of dress hunting, but I never turn down a shopping opportunity, so I delved right in to the world of Internet shopping.

Through the lovely lady over at Frugal Fashionista, I found this little Internet clothing shop called Forever 21.

(As an aside, have you ever clicked over to the Frugal Fashionista? Well, you should because she takes some of the CUTEST celeb outfits and searches for you to find a very similar look at a fraction of the cost. Actually, once I hit my weight loss goal, I plan on treating myself by actually purchasing an outfit that I really like from her site that she bit and made cheaper. That, and I REALLY want a pair of Lucky Brand Jeans.)

So anyway, once I made my way over to Forever 21 I found this dress, which I totally already bought, so if you don’t like it, suck it up. I don’t need dress advice.

Problem is, I’m a shoe girl (purses of the Vera Bradley variety are a close second) and I REALLY want a pair of shoes that will match the color of the dress.

So I found these, which I love, but guess what? The mustard color doesn’t come in my size.

Figures.

Next, I found these, and this is where you come in my dear Internets. You MUST answer all of the following questions lest my head explode from all of the pondering and nail biting and such that’s been going on on my end of the monitor.

Are they mustard in color?

if so…..

Is the print on the leather appropriate?

if so….

Is the heal appropriate? That is, is it the right material? Are they dressy enough for the dress?

You see? Do you see what I’m going through? It’s just too much!

So if you don’t like the shoes for the dress, I need you to do one more favor for me….

Find me some stinkin’ shoes that will match!

And make sure that they come in a 10, my feet are kinda big!

uuuuggghhhhh

I really hate it when the time we have to talk (which is few and far between) is filled with disagreements.

Come home soon, I’d rather argue with you here.

Making up is, after all, much more fun that way. ;)