2012: Just under the wire...

To say that I sucked at blogging in 2012 would be an understatement. I really had every intention of being positive and blogging about fun and funny things. As you can see, I basically had 2 or 3 posts and that was that.

Oddly enough, that wasn't due to lack of material to write about. It really had more to do with the fact that 2012 felt almost too personal to talk about to what may be complete strangers. Now that it's all in my rear view mirror, I feel a bit better about sharing the highlights.

I literally began the year in one of the worst funks of my life. After what felt like an eternity of trying to get pregnant, I essentially gave up. The injections, hormones and treatments were more than I could handle and at the end of the day, I wasn't strong enough to commit to an undefined number of months more of it. After much soul searching and discussion with the hubs, we decided that it didn't matter if we had a biological child. We wanted to be parents...plain and simple. There's more than one way to skin a cat, so we looked into adoption. To make a long story short, adopting a baby is about as easy as flapping your wings with two grocery bags strapped to each arm to fly. Translation: virtually impossible.

We made our peace with the fact that it might just be the two of us forever. It didn't sound so bad. The hubs and I genuinely like each other. We figured if we weren't meant to have children, we would just take fancy vacations and drive nice cars. Luckily, I have a friend (you know who you are...) who convinced me to give it one last try. We made our peace with things so we didn't have anything to lose. We tried her doctor and got pregnant on the very first try!

Pregnancy was a scary thing for me. I don't get those women who prance around saying how much they love being pregnant. I did NOT love being pregnant. It was uncomfortable, painful, scary, and hard. I had a condition that caused my hips to pop in and out of place, making walking so hard, I had to use a walker for the last 3 weeks of my pregnancy. I had gestational diabetes, eliminating my ability to eat whatever the heck I felt like. I cried what felt like a lot...for no apparent reason. I figure if my marriage can survive that 10 months, we're pretty solid.

So despite 2012 starting terribly, I learned a lot. Here's some of the highlights:

Stuff has a way of working itself out, even if it's hard to make peace with it at the time. I sincerely believe that part of the reason that things worked out for us the last time we tried fertility treatment is that we had made peace with it either way. It really takes the pressure off.

Moms really make everything better. I always say that my mom is like a magical creature (like a unicorn) that has the ability to make me feel better no matter what. I can't wait to be a unicorn for my son...

You don't actually forget how hard pregnancy and childbirth are. People who say that are crazy. However, people are actually right...it's all worth it.

Sudhir and I make cute babies. You don't think I'd make such a bold statement without proof, do you? Evidence below:

I'm a pretty good mom. I was super worried that I wouldn't have a maternal bone in my body. Not so. I love my kid more than anything in this world and would do anything for him.

Your priorities really DO change after you have a baby. I was worried that I'd go nuts without going to work and would constantly obsess over what I was missing while I was on maternity leave. I've been on maternity leave for well over a month, and I gotta say...I'm totally indifferent about it. I don't think about it much at all. If we were independently wealthy, I might even consider not going back.




So overall, 2012 was probably both the worst year and the best year for me. Started out craptastic and ended up bringing me the greatest joy I've ever experienced. I hope that 2013 continues to be joyful and happy...

It's the thought that counts...

This is my husband and love of my life:

Pretty cute, right? Yeah, I think so. Anyway, if you have had the pleasure of meeting him, you probably think he's one of the nicest people you've ever met. If you do, you'd be right. If you don't, you may want to see a witch doctor to check if you have a soul.

Ever since I met him, he has been the kindest, sweetest, most awesomest guy I know. When we first started dating, he would constantly shower me with very thoughtful gestures (flowers, cards, candy... the standards) Then we got married, he would do even more thoughtful things (the stuff that doesn't cost anything!) He'd put notes in my wallet, he'd leave notes on the mirror so I'd see them when I got out of the shower. Yeah, he's basically a dream come true.

It doesn't take long to know that I'm sort of obsessed with my birthday. In my 20s, it was kind of pathological. It's definitely toned down now that I'm getting on in years. However, I still hover around Lily from "How I Met Your Mother" when it comes to my birthday.

Yes, I wake up in the middle of the night, look at the clock, and if it's after midnight, I basically squeal "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!" Now, if I had a Tiara, I'd probably put it on. Luckily, I don't.

So, if you haven't put it together, this post is about my husband + gifts + my birthday. He really started off with a bang! I had mentioned in passing how I really liked this artist who had a exhibition on the South Street Seaport. The exhibit was called Ashes and Snow. For my first birthday that we were together, he got me a really large framed poster from Ashes and Snow. It's still my favorite piece of art.

For the second birthday we were together, he followed up with a stellar gift. He knows how much I love the show "Sex and the City" so he bought me this badass complete series gift set. I've gotten many miles out of those DVDs

The years that followed had some pretty serious judgement lapses as far as gift giving goes. However, I will go on record as saying that despite the fact that the gifts themselves were stone cold crazy options (while making for a pretty comical story), the thought behind them was heart warming.

I figured I'd give you a taste with my two favorite gift-giving debacles...

One year, I was really sad that I'd have to be in London for my actual birthday for work. Not that London is a bad place to be, really I was sad because I'd be by myself. Before I left, we all gathered at my in-laws to have the traditional pizza, ice cream cake, and gift giving fun-fest. Sudhir's was the last gift that I opened. It was a large and somewhat heavy box. I was so excited to see what was in it. So when I opened it and saw this:

I was somewhat confused. I figured, it can't possibly be a pillow. Why would anyone get me a pillow...a pillow!...for my birthday?!! No way. So I proceeded to open the box. Imagine my surprise when within the box, I found this:

At this point, the conversation went a little something like this:
Arti: Do I have to knife open this pillow to get to my gift?
Sudhir: No, it's a pillow.
Arti: ?? Really ?? A pillow? For my birthday?
Sudhir: Yeah, I mean, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and you punch your pillow and say you hate it. You work so hard, you deserve to have a good night sleep.
Arti: quickly feeling like the wicked witch of the west... Oh. That's really sweet. Thanks.

The year after that, was an even bigger debacle. Again, at my in-laws for the traditional pizza, ice cream cake, gift opening fun-fest. I had high hopes for this year. Sudhir had been bursting with excitement for days about how awesome his gift was this year and how I was going to love it. So to set the stage, again, there was a really large box. This year it was waaaaaaay heavier. I was so confused as to what this could possibly be. I tear off the wrapping and there's a non-descript cardboard box within. I open the box and the first thing I see is what appears to be a crock pot...

I was very confused for a few reasons.

1. I had never expressed any interest in a crock pot
2. I had never even used a crock pot
3. At the time, I worked so much that I was never even home for dinner...let alone to cook with a crock pot.

I removed the crock pot from the box and saw this:

Now I was super confused. Was I supposed to cook these rocks? Was it an aquarium? Why was there a fishing net? Was I supposed to be cooking fish? There was a cooking spoon. The resulting conversation went a little something like this:

Arti: A crockpot with rocks? For my birthday?
Sudhir: Noooooo...it's a hot stone massage kit!
Arti: I'm supposed to give myself a hot stone massage? That seems hard.
Sudhir: Noooooo...don't you remember? When we went on that cruise and got a hot stone massage, afterwards...you said if you could have a hot stone massage every day, you'd be the happiest girl in the world. Now you can!
Arti: So wait, you're going to give me a hot stone massage every single day?
Sudhir: I'll have to watch the instructional video first.

You have to admit though...while the execution was a bit...shall we say...Off? The thought was pretty spectacular. I don't know many people whose husbands make it their objective to make their wife the happiest girl in the world with their gift-giving prowess.

My birthday is next week. I can't wait to see what he comes up with next!

Keep ya posted!

2012: A year in review (a bit prematurely)

I've been struggling with figuring out what the heck to blog about. As you know, I didn't blog much last year because honestly, I didn't have anything funny or positive to blog about.

So far, 2012 hasn't really given me anything to shout from the rooftops about either.

Let's seeeeee...

• My grandmother passed away.
• My great uncle passed away.
• My close friend's grandfather passed away.
• I found out adoption from India is basically an impossibility unless I'm willing to accept a child with serious medical issues or a child between the ages of 7 to 12.
• My work spouse resigned, thereby leaving me sad widow.
• I found out that the starvation diet of my past has essentially turned my adrenal system into a hot mess.
• As a result, I've not eaten carbs in a month. That pretty much puts a damper on one's mood...seriously. On a positive note, my 33rd birthday is next week. The thing I'm looking forward to most is eating a Babycake. This no-carb thing is really putting a damper on my cupcake eating. On a less positive note, who knows what that amount of sugar is going to do to me. Oh well...death by cupcake is probably not the worst way to go :)

That being said, I've still been trying not to get too caught up in what's going wrong and instead, focus on what's been going right.

Let's seeeeee...

• I've been trying to take better care of myself...Eating tons of protein and veggies. At this point, I've lost about 7 pounds in 4 weeks. Not awesome...but it's a step in the right direction, I guess. A nice spillover effect to eating healthier is that I've become quite experimental in the kitchen. It turns out that I'm not a half bad chef!
• I'm trying to focus on being more active. My mom and dad gave me enough birthday money to put a significant dent in the price of a treadmill for our home. If there's a pricey piece of exercise equipment all up in my face every day, I'm hoping I will essentially eliminate any of my current excuses of not going to the gym.
• I've connected with friends and coworkers who are also on their weight loss journey and as a result, have a pretty fantastic support system.
• I've been researching what our other options are for being parents if we can't adopt from India. It's all very overwhelming but I still have hope. I may have to sell a kidney on the black market...but I have hope.
• I've been thinking of all the great things I get to do because we're not parents. For example, we're going to Savannah to visit family and are considering a trip to either Hawaii or Cancun sometime this year.
• I've been trying to change my perspective. In the grand scheme of things, I tend to be pretty hard on myself. I tend to think "WHY ME??!" a lot. I often catch myself thinking "Life is so unfair..." As of late, I try to catch myself in mid-pity party and think about all the things that come easy for me. I have a loving, supporting, and kind husband. My parents are extremely supportive as well. Hell, when I was home last week, my mom simply held me while I cried like a lunatic. Oh, and they still try to give me money. I have a wonderful job, a wonderful home, and friends that you should be jealous of. I mean seriously, they're pretty awesome.

I haven't written off 2012 completely yet. I still have high hopes for it.
I'll continue to work on finding truly funny things to blog about. In the meantime, I may dig down deep into the archives of my life to share funny/positive stories from my past.

Can you smell the Patchouli?

So I said that I was done being all depressed and feeling bad about myself. I wasn't kidding, people. For the last few weeks, I've been doing damn near everything in my power to feel better about myself. I've been going to an endocrinologist and doing all the medical stuff (the labs, the prescriptions, etc...) I've also been abiding by a strict low carb diet and have lost 6.7 pounds in three weeks!

But in addition, thanks to the great invention of Groupon, I've been trying some other, um...how shall I put it?...New agey, wholistic, granola-esque, weird stuff too. Groupon was having a deal on hypnosis so I decided to buy three sessions. A few people have asked me about it and if I think it's working.  It's not like Office Space. There are no swinging pendulums. I just had my third session. I have no idea if it's working or if it's worked. I can't even exactly tell you what happens in the hour that I'm there. I can tell you what he says at the beginning. I can tell you that he counts down to 1 at the end and I open my eyes. What happens for the other 56 minutes in between is a mystery. All I know is that I wake up feeling like I took the world's most refreshing nap...

Then, a couple of my friends recommended that I try something called NAET treatment. I mean, every single time I try to explain this process to one of my friends, I can see that look on their face. The "I can't believe someone who's smart and educated would buy into this nonsense..." look. I tell you what though...I'm a believer now. I mean, it's craaaaaazy. Completely crazy. I'll try to briefly explain the process and what it claims but I'm sure you'd be better off looking at something legit. Don't be discouraged by the fact that the website looks like something my 13 year old cousin put together for a class project.

Okay, so here was my experience. I went in and the woman (who happens to also be a registered nurse) told me that the first thing she'd have to do is some muscle testing.  I had never heard of such a thing. My initial reaction was to ask if it would hurt (cuz that's how I roll). She assured me that it wouldn't. She pulled out something that reminded me of a Trapper Keeper full of vials that had clear liquid in them. Each one had a little label on it.

She had me hold my arm out and she told me to resist her pushing it down. I did. She couldn't move it at all. Then she had me hold one vial at a time while she proceeded to do the same thing. The theory is that if something doesn't make you stronger, it makes you weaker. For the first 6 or so vials, my arm was essentially useless. It was like I had noodle arm. I was sure that my arm was just tired so I told her that I didn't think I'd be able to hold my arm up for anything. The conversation went a little something like this:

Arti: Yeah, I'm pretty sure that my arm is just really tired and I won't be able to hold it up for anything.
Witch Doctor: Do you want me to prove you wrong?
Arti: Sure, I'd love that.
Witch Doctor: Taking the vial out of my hand completely.  Resist now.
Arti: Okay.
Witch Doctor: unable to move my arm at all. See? Your arm isn't tired at all.
Arti: Yeah, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I'm not holding something.
Witch Doctor: handing me a pencil. Okay, hold this.
Arti: Okay. Taking the pencil.
Witch Doctor: unable to move my arm at all. See? Do you believe me now?

At this point, I wasn't really convinced but I proceeded to do as she told me. She told me my biggest imbalance was hormonal. Shocking, I know. She said that she'd treat that first. She gathered up a bunch of vials labeled with strange things like, "worthlessness", "hopelessness", "guilt", "depression", "helplessness", "thyroid", "estrogen", "progesterone" and other things that worried me because I wondered how she knew I felt all those things. She plopped them in a jar, and handed them to me. I became increasingly alarmed because the hand holding the jar started to feel real funky.

She told me to hold the jar for 10 minutes. Then she had me hold the jar to my forehead as she had me do certain breathing exercises as she hit pressure points on my spine. At the end of doing that several times, she told me not to eat any meat or dairy that might have hormones in it for 17 hours, to hit my pressure points every 2 hours while awake, and to call her if anything strange happened. I still didn't particularly buy into all of this hocus pocus...but, I agreed and asked if there'd be any side effects. She said the only side effect would be that my period might be late or skip or be early. That seemed highly unlikely since you can set a watch by Aunt Flo's visits.

And then it happened.

She arrived 11 days early and she was pissed.

Now, I'm not a scientist, but that's pretty convincing. I have no idea if this stuff is helping or if it's just a waste of 45 bucks a week. I do know that it can't be hurting. I also know that I feel better. I feel more positive and energetic.

So... I guess I'll keep on keepin on and see what happens.

Turning the page...

I happened across a quote a while back that really had me thinking.

"If you want your life to be a magnificent story, then begin by realizing that you are the author and everyday, you have the opportunity to write a new page."

I've been terrible about blogging.  I tried to write when I had funny or positive things to share. In 2011, those things were few and far between. I've said it once, and I'll say it again; that year sucked and I'm not even a little sad to see it go. In addition to some tragic happenings, I struggled with my own personal and health issues. Maybe I didn't blog because I just didn't want my blog's pages to be filled with sadness, followed by depression, followed by self-loathing. That sounds like a less than magnificent story...

So even though I've really tried hard to not be a Debbie Downer in my blog, I think I'm in need of a little catharsis. It's not really happy. It's not really funny. It's not really positive. But it's the truth, and whether I like it or not, it's part of my story.  I promise if I can get through this, it'll be all rainbows and bunnies from this point on.

I had mentioned in a previous post that the hubs and I weren't necessarily "trying" to have a baby, but we weren't trying to prevent it. That was way back in April. The fact is that we hadn't been trying to prevent it for a while before that. At first, I didn't think much about it. You can tell from my post that I wasn't even completely sure it was a good idea. After a few months of not preventing and nothing happening, I started to feel sort of anxious about it.

In June, I decided that it was time to get checked out, just to make sure all our ducks were in a row and that we were both healthy enough to conceive. Turns out, I wasn't. The odds weren't in my favor, the deck was stacked against me, yada yada yada. I felt like Miranda from Sex and the City when she found out she had a lazy ovary.

But then a funny thing happened...

I went from not even being sure, to wanting a baby more than anything in the world. Maybe I like a challenge...Maybe everyone wants something the second they're told they can't have it... Maybe It was just the kick in the pants I needed to really know what was important to me. All of a sudden, I didn't care what obstacles were in my way...I was gonna make this happen come hell or high water.

And so it began...the doctor appointments, the thrice weekly ultrasounds, the inability to make plans because I had no idea what my cycle was going to be, the hormones, the clomid, the injections, the pills, the ridiculous mood swings, the hope, the desperation, the despair. Month after month...for 6 months...lather, rinse, repeat...

In the meantime, everything in my body was falling apart. I was gaining weight at an astronomical rate. My hair was starting to fall out in clumps. My face was ravished by cyctic acne...I mean, that shit hurts! At the end of 2010, after 4 months of prescribed anorexia, I felt better about myself than I had in my entire life. I had lost 50 pounds, my skin was clear, I felt confident and better than ever. Flash forward just one year later, and I had gained all of the weight (plus some) back and I've never felt worse about myself.

I do not like who I've been over the past year. I have found myself feeling envious, no...downright JEALOUS of everyone who has what I want. I have found myself playing the victim, saying "WHY ME??!!!" more than I care to admit to. I have been tempted to punch people in the throat for asking me why I've been married 5 years and don't have kids. I've cried to the point of gasping about things I have no control over. I have avoided seeing people that I love and that love me because I'm humiliated by my failures...

All of this stuff is enough to drive a person to a deep dark place, and to be honest, I've been in one for a while. I never thought I could cry so much or feel so hopeless. But before you stop following my blog because it's depressing, know this; I'm starting to come out of the dark. Don't get me wrong, my eyes are still adjusting to the light, but it's there and it's bright.

Everyone has their sob story. That's mine. But here's my silver lining...my hope for 2012. If my number one dream in life is to be a parent, then I'm 100% confident that I can achieve that. My goal is not to be pregnant. Sure I'd love to see what kind of genetic combination Sudhir and I would produce, however, there are so many paths that can lead me my ultimate dream of being a parent.

I've begun the long road to getting healthy again. I have all the hope in the world that I can do this. If in 6 months to a year, I'm in a better place, I'll give the fertility stuff one more go. If it's not in the cards, it's not. God knows who is meant to be in our family. If it's from my womb, great. If it's not, I'm not one to question His authority.

I am the author of my magnificent story. I hold the pen.

Consider the page turned.

The next chapter is gonna be a good one, dammit...

The Bucket List...

Okay, so maybe this will be my lamest post ever. Then again, maybe it will inspire one of my 3 readers. Either way, I feel like it's an important exercise for me. So here it goes.  It begins with a single question:

What are your dreams?

Okay, okay. So I bet at least a few of you have already decided that this is, in fact, my lamest post ever. Before you close the browser and vow never to read this blog again, allow me to give just a bit of background.

I don't make a secret of the fact that I am not one of those people who goes around reading self-help books. I also don't read many non-fiction books, period. Recently though, I was asked to read a book for a project I'm involved in for work. It's called "Dream Manager" and it's by Matthew Kelly. Yes, you're probably already thinking "Uh....Laaaaaaaaaaame." Yeah, I don't blame you. Before you start judging me, let me just say that I was with you. I read it anyway to be "responsible".

And man...am I glad I did.

At first, I thought this would be a book written for people who are managers. Not so. It's really about being human. And what makes us human? Our ability to envision the possibilities that will bring us joy...the possibilities that motivate us and bring us hope.

Then I realized something. I didn't know the answer to the question above. Sure, when I was younger, I would dream about the life I wanted. I wanted to go away to school, have a boy like me, get good grades, get a job, move to a new city, make new friends, fall in love, get married, have a nice car, buy a nice house...it wasn't anything out the ordinary. It all seemed acheivable. Good news: It was!

So now what? When did I stop dreaming?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had gotten so caught up with the notion of the daily grind...with going to work, getting a paycheck, paying my bills...that I simply didn't have the time or inclination to think beyond that. What's worse is that I didn't even have any idea what my own husband's dreams were. That actually made me feel pretty bad.

So, in an effort to commit to making my dreams come true, I've decided that I should probably have some. You may have noticed that I haven't blogged in quite some time. There are a number of reasons for that. I've thought about it a lot. I guess I figured that I didn't have many positive things to say these days. Truth be told, I've been downright depressed. There are lots of things that could have contributed to me feeling down. Rather than post the million things I could cry about, I figured I could write about the things that get me excited, that bring me joy to envision, that give me hope...

I've given it a lot of thought. I'm still not done thinking. My goal is to write down 100 dreams I'd like to achieve before I turn 40. That seems reasonable. In the meantime, I encourage you to try to answer the question for yourself. Without dreams, what's the point? What are you living for? I also encourage you to ask the people in your life what theirs are. Sounds cheesy as hell, but you might be surprised. If nothing else, it'll probably make that person's day that you care enough to ask.

Just sayin.

Youth is Wasted on the Young.

People tend to guffaw when I wax-philosophical about getting old at the ripe age of 32, however, I feel like I have some legitimate observations on this topic.  I was reading a book, "Water for Elephants", and the main character talks a lot about getting old and how it's difficult and subtle and before you know it, life has passed you by.  Yeah, pretty depressing stuff...but it made some excellent points. 

When you're young (i.e. before 30) and someone asks you how old you are, the answer pops into your head with surprising speed and accuracy.  The younger you are, the more precise your description of age is.  For example, 28 months, 3 and a half, 12 and three quarters, etc etc.  Sometime after you turn 30, someone asks you how old you are and you start doing long arithmetic in your head trying to figure it out.  I've certainly noticed it now that I'm over 30.

When you're in your 20s, life seems to be limitless and spread out before you.  You think you have all the time in the world to travel, to enjoy marriage, to finally get in shape, to be healthier, to have kids.  It's a pretty rude awakening when you realize that there actually is a ticking clock looming above your head. 

As I was looking through some old pictures of me from college and grad school, I realized something.  What the hell was I thinking feeling so bad about myself back then?  I mean, I spent the vast majority of my time thinking I was too fat, had too big a nose, too flat a butt, too big of boobs, I was too tall, my hair was too frizzy, my skin was awful, etc etc.  Truth is, if I could go back to those days, I would trade the me of my youth with the me of my present any day of the week.  I suppose hindsight is always 20/20 but it would have been nice if someone was smart enough to tell me that it's pretty much all downhill from that point on.

Looking back, my youth was pretty fantastic.  I just wish I would have spent more time appreciating it for what it was instead of always discounting it for what it wasn't.  I look forward and all I see are struggles, to get healthy, lose weight, get pregnant, have a healthy pregnancy, etc.  It's downright depressing.

So maybe, as a sanity check, I will try not to dwell on the past or obsess over the future.  Instead, I'll focus on the here and now...Chances are, when I'm 50, I'm going to look back at my 32 year old self and be pissed that I didn't spend more time enjoying life as it was!