Trust

Wouldn't it be wonderful if you could trust people with your vulnerabilities? Especially people who are close to you? When we hit the point where I could completely break down from stress, exhaustion, heart break, in front of my husband, that was a huge moment. Over the last two years we've had some REALLY rough times and being able to trust each other with those vulnerabilities has been key.

When I'm meeting new people I'll test them. I'll share a minor vulnerability with them, or a small piece of me, and see what they do with it. If they treat it with respect then I'll see what they do with another piece. I don't open myself up completely with all my ins and outs at the first. I've met people who do that, and they are awkward.

Family should always be a safe place. Family should always be one of those safe places to share your vulnerabilities.

Unfortunately I've recently discovered that isn't always the case. We have told those very close to us that we're expecting a baby, but there is one family member we have not told. And it's because of what they've done with the years of related vulnerabilities we've shared. They politicized them.

Despite what certain groups and outspoken individuals might say/have said, my uterus is not a place to make political statements. And especially not by people who should be protecting me.

I don't mind if this family member finds out that I'm pregnant. We aren't keeping it from him. But he has not earned our trust enough to find out directly from us. And that makes part of me sad.

So much unsaid

The last time I wrote a post for this blog was the first week of December. I wrote about how I'd really love to just tell someone flat out how inappropriate her asking me every month if I was pregnant was.

The ironic thing, I was actually pregnant at the time. I was five weeks six days pregnant. Miraculously our first round of IVF had worked. We would see our baby's heart beat for the first time two days later. And in two weeks I would have a D&C because our baby had died at seven weeks three days, one week before Christmas, one week before we had planned to surprise our families with the wonderful news we'd been gleefully keeping secret since Thanksgiving.

Two months later, a month ago Saturday, our second round of IVF would also miscarry.

Part of me wants to scream it all from the roof tops. Women need to know they are not alone with infertility. People need to understand why it is I won't go to that activity or can't do them that favor right now. I'm barely keeping my head above water most days, and the other days I'm only not drowning because my husband is holding me above water.

And the other part of me does not want to deal with the constant pity and questions and platitudes that don't do any good and often times actually hurt.

The two things I want right now are to be pregnant with a baby I'll get to wrap in a quilt and finish my dissertation proposal (in that order). But I'd settle for insurance coverage that covers more than just two IVF tries in your lifetime.

This was so not the post I planned to write today. Which means either you needed to read it or I needed to write it. I promise my next one will be happier.

Busy

This week is shaping up to be very busy: it's the culmination of the project I've been working on (how cryptic can I be...) but after this week, I won't be gone every night which will be a relief! Now I just have to determine how to use my spare time wisely so I can finish up some other projects before heading Elsewhere for Christmas. I'm also teaching in church on Sunday, practicing for a Christmas concert, exploring education options, and a few other things. I have a full plate, but I enjoy so much of it.

My bishop told me the other day that I should think about uncomplicating my life. When I got home, I listed the things I do on a regular basis and realized that the THINGS aren't necessarily complicating my life, but my THOUGHTS are. I am feeling a lot of (mostly) self-imposed stress about things I can't really control, and, because I get so caught up in worrying, it's making it hard to do anything at all. That's when things get complicated. I do need more quiet time. I need more time doing the things I want/need to do and less time worrying about how to get it all done. That means I need to calm down, do one thing at a time, and stop panicking about my family's financial situation in January. It has been an extremely difficult year in my house--without going into too much detail, I will say that the recession has hit my dad's business very hard. Without us pooling our limited resources, we might have lost our home. As it is, sometimes we barely make it through a month and in January, it will get even harder because of some health issues that need to be taken care of despite the loss of income it will entail. We can't afford to lose any income, but we also can't afford to have a more significant loss of income if these health problems aren't taken care of now.

Can I control any of this? Not really. Can I look for a better-paying job in order to help more? Yes, I can. Can I MAKE someone hire me? No. So what do I do in the meantime? I pray, I work, I try to find ways to make a little extra money, I support my family in good health and bad, I fast, I pray, I pray, I pray. I'm doing everything I can and freaking out about things I can't control will only use up energy I need to live this life.

Somehow, things will work out. They always do. And I'm grateful for Roxie and Jinxie who give me perspective and tell me to calm down when I get frantic.

It's not your news to share

I told my dad that I met someone. The guy with the exclamation point in his text? In this case, we really did just meet once and had a very fast dinner together a week later, his treat. That and some texting is it so far. My dad grabbed on to that story and ran with it so much so that at a recent family gathering almost everyone asked me: "So, I heard you met someone?" Even a stranger at the gym then my dad goes to and I was attending with him asked, "So I heard you met someone?"

Yes, friends and family, I met somebody. Just met him. That doesn't mean I'm going to marry him - doesn't even mean I'm going to date him. But, yes, in the true sense of the word, I have met someone. Whether or not I Met Someone is too early to tell.

When there is news of that nature, I fully expect my dad to shout it from the rooftops. However, one dinner and one meeting do not a relationship make and I don't know why my dad feels a need to share this with everyone. For all I know, it's going to show up in the family Christmas letter! I'm glad he's excited. No, really, I am. I'm excited too. I just don't know what it is yet and I certainly don't think it's worth telling strangers at the gym about.

How do you deal with an over excited parent? I think Roxie had the right idea - she allowed her mom to ask her once a month. I am ever closer to making that a requirement. I know my dad wants good things for me. I want them too. I'm glad that I can share things with my parents as they really are some of my best friends but that doesn't mean they need to share my news with everyone.

I also tire of these questions my dad has asked me lately:

Dad: Do you have any boy news you want to share?
Me: Noooo.

Dad: Have you reconnected with anyone?
Me: Are you asking if I've talked to [this guy I've met] since I got back from The Homeland?
Dad: . . . Yes.

Have you dealt with this situation? How have you found a compromise between over sharing and not sharing at all?

My brother is a husband now

The wedding was marvelous. Wonderful. Beautiful. Just as it should have been. It made me so happy to see my brother so happy and I can't even begin to describe the feeling that exists in the sealing room of the temple (where we as worthy members of the LDS church hold weddings that will be bound on earth and in heaven forever) when you witness the creation of a new eternal family, especially one that is an extension of your own. Needless to say, I cried many tears of joy watching my punk brother and his lovely bride make covenants they intend to keep always. To get married in the right place at the right time to the right person is one of the most important things about this life and I knew that my brother and new sister-in-law were doing just that.

My fears about welcoming this new person into our family? Much tempered. She was nervous about meeting me too and even texted me the day before we met that she hoped I didn't think she sucked.

I certainly do not!

I fit right into the group at her bachelorette party and comfortable around her family as I met them throughout the next few days. When it was just us, we had no awkwardness and I really started to feel like she was my sister.

My brother didn't realize until it was almost too late that by marrying her, he was bringing another woman into the family where the women already outnumber the men, making the ratio now 2:1. Almost as soon as the four of us sat around a table alone for the first time (crafting for the reception, natch), we quickly started discussing things like cervical fluid and birth control. My brother had joined us, at the insistence of his now wife, just before the conversation went the direction and almost immediately regretted that decision.

Heh. Sorry, bro, but if you're about to be married and doing the things married people do, you're going to have to learn to deal with that topic. Though I will concede you probably don't want to know how your sisters collect their menstrual fluid.

Still, it was a conversation that gave me reason to look forward to more relaxed conversations in the future. Are we BFFs yet? No, but we're on our way. We're building a relationship of trust and love and I really do like her. I was even of more assistance during the wedding dinner than her own sisters, which I think was an important bonding moment.

She suits my brother well. Their commonalities, complimentary differences, patience, and love are evident, and I have faith in the lasting nature of their relationships. I'm very glad they found each other!

Welcome to the family, sister-in-law! May we all be as lucky in love as you are now!

Thank you veterans

When I was younger I thought I'd probably marry a military man from Idaho. Which seems oddly specific. But I liked traveling/moving (I've since outgrown that) and I liked potatoes, a lot, like eat them every day for two weeks like them. So it seemed like a military man from Idaho would be exactly my type.

My grandpa served in WWII. He left behind my grandma and uncle to fight in Europe. He was decorated and returned home. And he didn't talk about it until a few years before he died.

My dad has friends whose names are on the Vietnam memorial.

One of my cousins served in the Marines. Another cousin married a man in the Air Force and has already been through several deployments.

I am grateful every day for the men and women who serve this country in the military and I pray their families have the strength and peace they need.

And I'd be lying if I didn't say I wasn't a little bit grateful that my younger thoughts didn't come true and I'm not one of those people who needs that much strength in my life.

Sister-In-Law

My brother gets married this week. My younger brother. My only brother.

Mostly, I'm so happy for him and excited to get to know this new sister he's bringing into our family.

However, there is some weirdness, which I think is mostly just getting used to the idea. You see, I've never met his future wife. I'll get to meet her a couple of days before the ceremony, but we won't have much time to really get to know each other because those days will be chock full of last-minute wedding prep and masses of other family and friends. I've met her via Skype and we've been Facebook friends for some time now, but that's hardly sufficient.

The rest of my family, on the other hand, has spent lots of time with her. Even my own blood sister, who I also haven't seen in almost two years, calls our new sister a BFF. I'm actually afraid that not being there from the beginning will hurt the rest of our relationship. I'm afraid that I'll always be this outsider and we'll never have the kind of relationship we ought to.

Of course, I'm likely paranoid. If she's as awesome as she seems from her Facebook and from reports from my brother and family, we're going to hit it off right away. And even if we don't? We have eternity to figure it out. My brother really, really loves her, so I'm going to welcome her into our family and just be excited to have a new sister!

I think the other weirdness stems from the fact that this is the first wedding in my immediate family. We've been just the five of us for nigh on thirty years, or a little more than 20 if you count when my sister joined us, and now we are six. Forever. It's hard to wrap my mind around the fact that this woman I've never met is going to be one of us for the rest of time and all eternity. Not only am I getting a sister-in-law, I am now someone else's sister-in-law!

And yes, there is a little bit of jealousy. Most of the time, as the oldest, it's my job to do things first. But not this. I promise, however, that jealousy is just a tiny part of it.

So, tell me, friends with siblings-in-law - how did you get through the weirdness of welcoming a new family member?

Giving up hope

One of my favorite quotes about hope is:

Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
- Shawshank Redemption

I recently heard a father talking about his son who had recently gotten married. He actually said, "We'd almost given up hope" because this poor son had hit 30 before getting married.

How sad is that!?! Parents giving up hope on their kids. That's kind of rotten parenting isn't it?

Now, I'm pretty sure that isn't what that father meant, but that doesn't mean I haven't heard it many times in many places. However, the words that come out of your mouth reflect the thoughts rolling around in your head. So if you're saying you have no hope in your kids than somewhere you're thinking they are a lost cause.

I never lost hope in myself. It might have dimmed at times but it never went out. Don't lose hope. Don't let it die. Have true hope and faith.

Marry the family

They say that you marry the individual and not the family. So if you don't get along with the family, or if they don't get along with your family, then it isn't their place to say anything.

Except you do marry the family.

Who I am is in large part a result of who my family is. I reflect them. I reflect how we grew up. I reflect the experiences we shared. I am my family and they are me. And the same is true of everyone. So when you marry a person, you really are marrying the family.

I dated one guy whose family I never really got along with. They never really liked me and thought I was the one who was the bad influence in the relationship. The last time I spoke with them (at his wedding) his sister wanted to give me a book so I could figure out what was wrong with me that I wasn't married. Talk about awkward.

It might be a small thing. I know people who are happily married and don't get along with their in-laws. But I also know people who don't get along with their own families, so there's that. The evil in-laws are a stereotype that I'd like to see go away. I know both of my parents got along with their parents-in-laws. My grandpas used to ask after the other one. And more than once I remember my dad's siblings asking about my mom's dad. It is totally possible to get along with in-laws.

Just like any relationship it takes work though. You've dated the individual rather than the family. Your experiences with them have been limited (which is why it is, except in extreme situations, vital to keep relationship issues within the relationship, that way when you get over it nobody else is still holding a grudge). And it takes time to build a relationship.

I met HP's family very early on, and he met mine very early too. His family still talks about that first meeting. I apparently made quite an impression. But neither of us lives near our family, so those interactions were rare. It has taken a lot more than those first meetings to develop the relationship to the point where right now I feel connected to them and can confide in them. It's taken time and communication. When he's talking to them on Sunday and I tell him to tell them I love them, I mean it. And the same goes the other way too. I've had conversations with his family that he didn't initiate, and he's had conversations with my family that I didn't initiate. And more than once this year I've told him how grateful I am that his family likes me. It makes so many things so much easier.

Now, not everyone can have that. Because while we are our family, we are also our own individuals. So it's possible to get along great with one family member and not the rest of the family. And some relationships can be stronger than others. But you do marry the family. And they are important. And in-laws are not evil.

Teach Truth

I was recently at a Relief Society meeting about standing in holy places, and specifically about making where you are standing a holy place. The couple doing the main presentation was great. At one point while she was speaking he brought all five of their children into the room and they played chase around the room while she kept talking. Excellent object lesson. Because some times it can be really hard, for one reason or another, to make where you are standing feel as holy as the temple.

After the meeting I was talking with the sister and she actually apologized to me for talking about children so much. Which really caught me off guard. She was worried she might have offended me because I don't have children. She doesn't even know about our struggles. I assured her that I was not offended in the slightest. Family, children, marriage, all of that is truth. It actually offends me more when I can tell someone is leaving things out because they don't want to offend me.

Two months ago my mother said they had a lesson in Relief Society about eternal marriage where the teacher did not talk about marriage at all because she did not want to offend the single, divorced, or widowed sisters in the ward. How do you teach a lesson about eternal marriage without talking about marriage? I have no idea.

Eternal marriage is an eternal truth. Children are an eternal truth. We are not living in the celestial world currently and so there are all kinds of situations we may find ourselves in. But the truth is still the truth. And we should never shy away from teaching truth.

Just like dad

My parents visited earlier this year and discovered that HP likes a particular television show. After returning home my dad started watching the show, even though he doesn't like it. His reason was so he could "bond" with HP. Which is sweet. But I thought surely there must be something they could both do that they would both like.

I spent quite a while trying to figure out what that might be. I'd think of something my dad enjoys and then realize that that is something he and I share. And then I'd think of something HP enjoys and realize that is something that he and I enjoy. The only thing I could think of that they have in common is me, and even that is different between them (thankfully).

And I found the whole situation strange. Growing up my dad was the ultimate example of what a husband and father should be. If I was asked to make a list of the guy I wanted to marry, it would've been all the attributes my dad had, even down to some of his physical characteristics.

And then there's HP. Who matches pretty much none of that list. And yet that's perfectly okay. They both have a strong testimony and love of the Gospel. And that's really the most important. They'll find something to bond over eventually.

Family of One?

The First Presidency message in April 2007 was by President Faust and was titled "Enriching Your Marriage." Why do I remember this four years later?

In 2007 I was single. I was living alone. I wasn't really dating anyone. And I was also in a really rough spot in my life. When the calendar switched over from 2006 to 2007 I actually broke down in tears because I was terrified of what would happen in 2007, and it was a killer of a year. I had read the message before my home teachers came that month and I was looking forward to discussing it with them. However, when they came, they shared with me an article in Wired magazine about happiness. Wired? Really? As someone seriously struggling with depression at that moment, that was not what I needed to talk about.

So why would my home teachers choose to share something from Wired rather than the message from someone we sustain as a prophet? I can only conclude that they felt extremely uncomfortable talking about strengthening a marriage with someone that wasn't married. (I was not in a single's ward at the time, my home teachers were married. I think that's important to realize.) And why would that make them uncomfortable? Because single people don't have any family.

Right?

WRONG!

That is something I have heard so many times I couldn't begin to count. You're single. You don't have any family. And it couldn't be more wrong.

Even when I was single, even when I lived all alone, I had family. I have parents. I have siblings. I have grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, so much family. And I had the promise from God of more family after me, a husband and children. I don't know anyone who doesn't have room to strengthen their relationships with their family. The more I knew about having a strong marriage before I got married, the stronger foundation my marriage would have.

Single people don't have family? The people I know who have the BEST relationship with their families are often single people. My dad's cousin never married, but she knows our family better than anyone. If you want to know anything about my genealogy on that side, ask her. When she leaves this world there will be SOOO many family members to welcome her, and she KNOWS them. She has a very strong relationship with her family.

I even had family home evening when I was single (it often involved a bubble bath). The more strength I had with my family at that time would be strength I could take with me into my expanding family. Habits do not change at a wedding. Habits that enrich and strengthen a family start long before a wedding.

Family of one? Such a thing just doesn't exist.

Why I'm NOT a mom

Unexplained.

That's the one word answer to why.

After trying for a year on our own we were officially labeled "infertile" by the medical community. I'm never one for labels, but that one really hurt. And I've shed several tears about it.

Since the beginning of 2011 I've averaged one doctor appointment a week. Sometimes I get a week off but that generally just means two the following week. Try working your schedule around that. Every week someone is poking something into me - needles, speculums, ultrasound wands. I've actually mastered the art of peeing in a cup now too.

And after all that the answer came back - unexplained. Both of us work great. But for some unexplained reason we just aren't working together.

Every prayer I offer is a plea for guidance, understanding, and peace, as well as children. I've spent nights wondering if I'm not worthy to be a mom, which I know is crazy. I've cried that I can't fulfill the commandment to "multiply and replenish the earth and have joy therein." I feel broken. Even though medically speaking I'm not.

We have told a few people what we are going through, but that number is extremely small. The last thing I need is bad advice ("just relax and it will happen", "just stop trying and it will happen"). The last thing I need is everyone asking how things are going. A few people who need to understand my schedule a bit know just that I have some health issues we're working on.

I've lost my innocence about the miracle of birth. It's no longer something that my husband and I do together. It's something that's going to involve medical equipment and sterile things and more poking. The odds of us finding out we're expecting in the quiet of the morning (with my new found peeing in a cup talents) and being able to be the only people who know and revel in that miracle for a while are pretty much zero at this point. Now it'll be more poking, a blood draw, and a phone call.

We've lost a lot so far. I'm just holding on and hoping I don't lose my faith.

And that's why I'm not a mom.

Not my favorite Christmas

The first full day of my vacation to The Homeland was spent almost entirely in my pajamas, until I finally showered and dressed in normal clothes sometime after 5 PM.

Sounds divine, non?

Non. Not even a little bit. I didn't stay in my pajamas all day by choice. It just so happens that my arrival home the day before coincided with my father's arrival home from a 3.5 day hospital stay, and the next day it was my duty to be his primary caretaker.

Now, it was a scheduled surgery, not an accident, and he's going to be just fine or even more than in a few months. Yes, it was scheduled for the time I'd be home since Mom and One of My Siblings (the other missed Christmas with us this year) both work and the doctors said that it was either have someone available for him 24/7 for the first week or he was to go to a rehab hospital for post-op care.

Yay.

The idea was that we'd trade off shifts and no one person would have to shoulder most of the responsibility. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way, and I took point with my mother close behind and Sibling a helpful, but a little more removed third.

That first day alone was awful. Dad needed something constantly, whether it was a machine adjusted, a urinal emptied (luckily, I stopped gagging about this the third time), food, meds, drinks, physical therapy assistance, and so on. He was finally okay on his own for my brief shower, but I cried before, during, and after said shower, partly because the whole thing was wearing me out and partly because I was so mad at myself for feeling so worn out and selfish, and it was only Day 1.

The good news is that it got better. Dad got stronger and gained more independence each day, and we sort of fell into a somewhat predictable routine. Despite everything, it was still mostly refreshing to be home. There's also something to be said about fighting and going through hellish ordeals with someone you're in a committed relationship with, something I don't often experience. You know that no matter what you say and do, you still love each other and WILL work it out. Of course, that makes some things sting more, but it still gives you hope.

Of course, I do wish that my dad had not once, but three times, not used his lucid moments to get after me and my lack of dating life. The last time was actually during Christmas breakfast and found me 1) swearing in front of my parents for the first time in my life (it was only "damn" and used for emphasis, but still) 2)storming off and 3)crying on the bathroom floor for an hour.

Not really a Christmas memory I wish to keep, but only one of the three of us in that conversation was on heavy medication at the time. He'll remember it happened, but he won't really remember all the details.

But like I said, it did get better. Even if neither my mom nor I had a full night's sleep (there were meds to given in the middle of the night) and taking care of a middle-aged post-op man is surprisingly like unto taking care of an infant, at least I was with my family. I did get out of the house a few times, and I showered, at some point, every day. Christmas itself didn't suck entirely and by the end of the week, there was far more laughter than tears. Plus, I never actually had to watch my dad relieve himself or bathe him, which would just have been embarrassing for both of us.

It was just a MAJOR adjustment to go from my solitary life to taking care of my father full-time, and not the vacation I was hoping for. I am most certainly glad I was able to be home for and with my family. If I had to, I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

I feel for those who have to take care of a parent or spouse full-time for more than a week. I don't know how you do it. I hope this experience helps me less self-centered the next time I have an opportunity to serve in a major capacity, or even a minor one. I know I learned quite a bit about communication and patience this week, I just hope I can keep those lessons with me.

I also wish my dad a very speedy recovery, and Mom and Sibling the patience to carry on without me.

How was your Christmas?

Not home for the holidays

The last time I had Thanksgiving with my parents at their home was my senior year of high school. I've been with my parents twice on Thanksgiving since but one time was at my sister's and one time was at my uncle's. It was hard and strange at first, but it's just how it is now. I had two Thanksgivings on my mission (neither in this country). And the rest were with various extended family members, mostly an uncle on my dad's side. They were all good Thanksgivings.

Eventually we'll just have us for Thanksgiving at our home. But for now we're still celebrating with others. Last year it was friends of mine. This year it's his family. And this might be one of the stranger ones I've had yet. In a way I'm glad I'm used to being with others for the holiday. It's going to make this one easier. I get along great with my in-laws, but I still feel like I'm not quite integrated. I've only been part of the group for a very short time. We're all still adjusting.

I am not someone who likes a lot of small talk and I also do not like feeling like I am in the way. And I know that the kitchen is small enough that if I go in there to help I'll just make it more crowded, and I won't know where anything in the kitchen is so I'll need someone to basically show me where/how to do things, and at that point it's just easier to let them do it. And I'll most likely have to do a lot of small talk. The women do small talk. The men tell stories and talk about deeper things. The women talk about that stuff too when they are with the men. But when it is just the women their conversations are different. I'm more comfortable with the men, probably in large part because I'm more comfortable with my husband than I am with any of them. I don't want to appear ungrateful or a free-loader. So I'll offer to help. I always do. I guess we'll just see what happens.

At least I know we won't be sitting at the children's table. (Although honestly, that might actually be more fun. Some of my nieces and nephews on that side are college age and they're quite fun to be with.)

Four old guys

In several movies I like there is almost what could amount to a Greek chorus. This chorus of minor characters is made up of four older guys who serve to provide guidance for the main characters and comic relief for the plot. Several years ago, after watching these movies (The Rookie & Return to Me specifically) a few times, I decided I wanted my own group of "four old guys." So I thought about who I could invite and then formally asked them if they would be one of my "four old guys" or "FOG" as they called themselves. The membership changed a bit over the years, but it's roughly remained the same. They took exception to being called old until I explained that it simply meant "older than me."

Earlier this year I read a story on NPR - "Life-Changing Health Scare Leads to 'Council of Dads'". A father, faced with a possible life threatening illness, together with his wife, picked out men in their lives who could step in and fill certain roles in the life of their child. They created a council of dads to help step in if he was not there. It was a very touching story.

I love my dad very much and nobody can take his place. My four old guys in no way took the place of my dad. But if companies can have a board of directors, there's nothing to say that a person can't either. My four old guys and my women provide talents and expertise that I don't have.

Let me be interesting

We recently had some boundary changes in our stake that resulted in almost doubling the ward we are now in. The Relief Society scheduled an activity where people could get to know each other, a "speed friendshipping" with refreshments. It's the same idea as speed dating, but you don't get any dates out of it.

It made us talk to a lot of people within a short period of time. They provided question prompts if we needed them or we could talk about whatever we wanted. One of the questions was about hobbies and interests. I came home and told HP to make sure I'm more interesting than just kids and scrapbooking.

Now, I fully expect to be interested in my kids lives and be a part of what they do and support them in whatever interests they have. And I have nothing against scrapbooking either. But is that really all some people can say about themselves?

There are certainly exceptions, but I feel that one of the blessings of not getting married when I was 18 was that I had more than a decade to figure out who I am as an adult, to develop my life, to build interests, to even have a few interests that I'm no longer interested in. I've developed a pattern of noticing the world and being a part of what's going on around me. I read books on different subjects. I enjoy watching Nova on PBS. I keep up to date on the latest news around the world. When HP and I went out for a Valentine dinner last week, the conversation hit on so many topics I couldn't count them. I hope our dates out always involve more topics than the kids and the shopping list.

Just let me always be interesting.

Names

I've been thinking about names recently.

When we were dating, we would often use each other's names when talking to each other or emailing each other. Using someone's name adds emphasis. It personalizes what you are saying. It makes it just for that person. "I love you" is always a powerful phrase. But adding in the person's name to it makes it even more powerful.

For some reason though, we kind of stopped doing it after we started being together all the time when we were married. Recently, we've started again though. Some nights before bed we'll add our names to our nightly "I love you." Even now it really makes a difference. Names are powerful.

Which brings me to my other thought on names. They are powerful. They are meaningful. They are a representation of who you are as a person and the family and heritage all of that carries with it. And they are not to be taken lightly. Getting married is definitely a time to think about names and I made it clear from the start that I was not changing my name when we got married because I was not changing who I was completely. I am very proud of my name. I'm proud of the family it represents and the heritage I have with me because of my name. We live our lives to bring honor to our family names and the people who had them before.

The more I thought about it that way, it changed how I thought about last names and marriage. I don't want to say that I "took" HP's last name from him, but rather that he "gave" it to me. In essence it's saying, "I love you and know you will never do anything with my name that will ever dishonor it. I trust you with my name, what it stands for, and who I am." Now, that might be a bit extravagant, but I really like the feel of it. I know not everyone looks at it that way, but it's how I am looking at it.

There is definitely power in a name.

We're not even trying!!!

HP's family seems to be playing a fun game now. Something along the lines of what-random-thing-can-we-twist-to-assume-Roxie-is-pregnant. I think they get points the more random the association is. We aren't even trying to get pregnant yet! And when I am pregnant, we won't announce it with random associations. We'll most likely just call them up and tell them, kind of like how we did when we got engaged.

So while I've found this great book and would love to talk about it where I'm less anonymous, I can't lest they assume I'm pregnant.

My family, on the other hand, isn't making such assumptions. In fact it was my sister who recommended the book to me. My mom knows we're both reading it, but talking to my mom about it, it seems like she thinks it might be a bunch of quack. But it isn't.

So what is this book? It is a book for every person with a functioning uterus (ie, females between puberty and menopause) who wants to know what is going on when and what it all means and what their hormones are doing. And honestly, what woman doesn't want to understand all that better?

The book is called Taking Charge of Your Fertility. It's used a lot by women trying to get pregnant. It's used by women who are looking for effective and safe methods of birth control that don't involve chemicals or that type of stuff.

But it is also for women who would just like to know what's going on in there. You can use it to track everything uterus related and know exactly when your period will start, if you have an infection or not, if your bleeding is normal or if it's something to get checked out. You can track PMS symptoms and know when they are coming so you can be better prepared to handle them (by stocking up on chocolate).

It's an owner's manual for the female body. I've been amazed at all I've learned reading it, and I've had this body for more than 30 years now. I wish I'd read this book years ago!

But you see, if I were to mention this book in a place where HP's family could see, they'd assume we were using it to get pregnant. Which we probably will at some point. But right now we aren't even trying.

Thank you

I've mailed off the last of my thank you cards from my shower and our wedding. HP still has five more to write from our local shindig and then his are all done too. Yeah!

But writing them brought up some issues for me. Some gifts are more appropriate than others. Gifts that make the receiver wonder how in the world they are supposed to word a thank you card can be a bit awkward.

A proper thank you card names the gift and how it will be/has been used.

So was I really expected to write:

Dear Mother-in-law,
Thank you kindly for the lovely lingerie. Your son and I have really enjoyed it while having sex.
Love,
Roxie

Because, well, that's just awkward.

Also awkward:

husband: You look so sexy in that!
wife: Thank you, your mother picked it out for me.
husband: My mother, huh? Um, I think there's a game on I need to watch tonight.

HP doesn't know which ones of my sexy stuff people got us. Because that conversation could be weird.

But I was good. I wrote thank you notes, even for the potentially awkward gifts. I just thanked them for thinking of us and for their thoughtful gift and left it at that.