on the rocks

Cecily has a typically thoughtful and thought-provoking post up about the dilemma of what to do if, at the end of the IVF process, when you feel your family is complete, you end up with some extra frozen embryos. I realize it's probably bad juju (which, thanks to commenter Anne, I now know also goes by term bachi in Hawaii) to even think about it, but, if we were lucky enough to have this cycle result in an actual take home baby, I'd really, really like to donate the couple of frozen embryos remaining to someone who wants a child -- though, I have to say that I'd prefer to do it anonymously.

What would you do if you had leftover frozen embryos? And, if you wanted to add to your family, would you accept a non-open embryo donation?

it is written

The ancient Romans discerned the will of the gods by studying the flight of birds (auspices) or the entrails of sacrificial animals (haruspices). But I've discovered that the way the gods speak to me is through the vanity plate on the next car over.

The long and the short of it is that the transfer went well, though for a few panicked minutes there, I was afraid that it wouldn't go at all.

However, after a brief detour to the urgent care unit for a slightly sprained ankle (mine) and a pair of crutches (also mine), a mix-up about signatures that led to a frantic internet search (not mine) and an equally frantic call (mine again) to try to pull someone out of a yoga class, the only thing left to do is wait.

And that license plate? Entripy. Spelled just like that.

transfer

Tomorrow afternoon. I'll update then.

eta: a photo that seems evocative of something or other.

on deck

Transfer scheduled for Tuesday. Mostly, I'm trying not to think about it too much. Maybe I had the right idea last time, when the whole thing happened while I was on the other side of the ocean.

lists

While I'm biting my nails waiting to see if this cycle is going to go foward, here's how I'm wasting spending my time. As you may know, I'm kind of a name enthusiast and, back in the day, long before I gave any serious consideration to actual babies of my own, I had a bookshelf of baby name books, which I used to read cover to cover, Aaron to Zoe.

Recently, I found a great online name resource for those who, like me, want to put a finger on pulse of naming in a given (US) area. Click on the link, choose the "by hospital" option, type in a state and city and pick a month and year.

Looking at a list of babies recently born at the the big city hospital near me, I was mildly surprised to find an awful lot of little girls with my own name. Which,as it happens, is not actually Niobe, but, instead, falls squarely into the pretty-yet-so-recently-ubiquitous-as-to-be-completely-out-of-fashion category. But I also found the following examples of very unusual -- at least, to my ears -- names.

See what babies are being named a hospital near you (or somewhere you're curious about). If any names stand out as especially unique or striking, please leave them in the comments.

eta: As a couple of the commenters pointed out, some hospitals don't seem participate and not all that do give baby names. To get a list of the participating hospitals in a given state, just select the "by hospital" option, pick a state (but not a city) and hit "search." You'll get a list of hospitals and you can try clicking on a few different ones to find one that provides baby names.

story of my life

Though it does crop up from time to time (see, e.g., my previous post*), the fact that I lost the twins, while tragic and all of that, doesn't seem especially, you know, important.

It's one of those things that doesn't actually mean anything, a misplaced modifier without any real connection to the text it's supposed to illuminate. It happened. It's too bad it happened. I'm sorry it happened. And that's about all I can say.

However, very much on the other hand, the fact that, many, many years ago, a boyfriend who I never thought was particularly clever or kind ditched me for a girl who, in retrospect, I didn't have much in common with -- that fact is the wormhole, the dark star, the quenchless Charybdis, the endless snake endlessly swallowing the sun.

What event colors the way you see the world? And why?






*And many thanks for the gift ideas. I'll probably send some kind of edible thing for the family and then maybe something else for the girls. Still mulling it over.

as of very early this morning

It's another happy, healthy baby girl for my stepbrother and sister-in-law.

That sister in law. The one I bonded with when she and I were both pregnant and due within a week or two of one another. The one who has an older daughter exactly the age that the twins would have been. The one I haven't seen or spoken to for over two and a half years.

Of course, I'm thrilled for them, but I just can't seem to force myself to email or call. And I can't imagine stopping by the hospital to welcome little Chloe. Tell me, o internets, what should I do?


eta: As I said in the comments, I'm pretty sure I could manage to send a gift for Chloe and her big sister, Emma. But I'm drawing a complete blank on what to send, so I'm abjectly begging for suggestions.

set back

Well, Trish just called and the news is not good. Not terrible. Just. . . not good. Anyway, Trish'll probably post more details on her blog at some point, but it looks like we're going to be postponed for a few more days.

Fingers crossed for better news on Friday.

edge of my seat

Trish, our beautiful and brilliant (did I mention she's already finished a draft of her dissertation and is on track to have her doctorate by spring?) surrogate, has an appointment today for a lining check and some bloodwork.

If everything is okay, transfer will be later this week. For updates, head over to Trish's blog, Living, Loving, Giving.

And, in other Trish news, it was her birthday this past weekend, so if you stop by, don't forget to wish her a happy birthday!

from niobe's big book of helpful hints

While, in general, I’m all in favor of literary allusions (and, for that matter, literary illusions), before you decide to name your business, say, Tom Sawyer Painting Company or Oliver Twist Daycare, you might want to think about actually, y'know, reading those classics of children’s literature.

Just trying to be, um, helpful.

For more of Niobe’s helpful hints, click here.

and the winner is....

Sammie!

Thanks to the random number generator at random.org, she's the lucky winner of a dozen BIG N TASTEE cookies!!!!

If you're Sammie, claim your prize by sending me an email with your choice of flavor and a mailing address and the cookies will be on their way.

If you're not Sammie, may the random number generator smile on you the next time round. (or, if you can't wait, you can always order your own cookies from Frank's Big Ones Bakery)

giving it away

As it happens, I'm in an atypically generous mood and, after reading the latest round of confessions, thought that some of my readers might need the temporary euphoria that can be created only (legally, anyway) by a massive sugar high.

Therefore, I'm giving away (drum roll, please) a dozen BIG awesomely tasty cookies. And these are not just any dozen BIG awesomely tasty cookies. They're direct from Frank's Big Ones Bakery, and, hence, the creations of the amazing Kym's amazing husband, Frank. Trust me, I've sampled these cookies. And they are really, really good.

So, stop by Frank's Big Ones Bakery, check out the many drool-inducing varieties, then leave a comment to this post by midnightish EST today and you'll be in the running to win a dozen Big Ones.



Standard disclaimer: Winner will be selected by a random number generator. One entry per person. And (with apologies to my overseas readers), this particular giveaway is limited to people in the US or Canada.

one small step

Figuratively, anyway.

Cole is crawling. Purposefully, methodically, shifting his weight from one hand and one knee to the other, occasionally stopping to sit back and survey his progress. I know it's a common trope to use this kind of thing as a regret-tinged metaphor for growing up, but (and I'm sure I've said this before), what I feel is mostly an incredible sense of relief that he's passed one more milestone.

I realize that it's a little on the early side for crawling, but I also realize that the whole thing is essentially meaningless since, especially in these days of back-to-sleep, many babies skip crawling altogether. Which reminds me of my friend Saskia, who walked late and talked early,* and when her parents tried to persuade her to stand up and take a few steps, she'd look up at them, shake her head and point out, "I fall down."

When did you (or your child/ren, if relevant) start sitting, crawling, walking, talking?



*And who, to no one's surprise, grew up to be an exceptionally talented lawyer.

it's here

It's the moment you've all been waiting for: the July edition of the confession post.

As always, the rules are simple and few. (1) Choose the anonymous comment option. (2) Leave your confession in the comments. If there are enough comments, I'll add a couple of juicy confessions of my own.

So, let's get it started. My first (and only non-anonymous) confession: I'm not really all that fond of fig jam.

indifferent

Everything and I do mean everything is unaccountably getting on my nerves today.

If I actually posted anything, I'm sure I'd immediately regret it. So, while I try to achieve the Indifference of Niobe, feel free to send along suggestions for nudging my mood into the zen zone.

red boat, blue boat

Hortensia is thinking of buying a place where she can raise goats and grow grapes, so we've been touring the back roads of the Annapolis Valley and visiting abandoned farmhouses in various stages of dilapidation and disrepair. Every place we've looked at needs wiring, a new well and a new septic system and most of them have foundations of questionable stability. But there are wild blueberry bushes everywhere and I've been eating cherries by the handful straight off the tree.

fair

Well, I finally made it to Nova Scotia, but, gosh, there's not much in the way of internet access here, not at the place I'm staying, nor, despite their claims to the contrary, on the ferry over.

I'm going to head out and take some scenic pictures of scenic boats and docks and rustic-type things, but in the meantime, here's a shot of the ferris wheel from the Fourth of July fair. The sign said it was "semi-permanent" and it didn't look exactly, you know, safe, but the lights were awfully pretty, if a little garish. Which, like most things, sounds like a metaphor for something else.

independence day

northward bound

Tomorrow morning, we'll be heading north. First stop: a little town with a huge, over-the-top Fourth of July celebration, including an all-day parade, fireworks on the waterfront, a pie-eating contest and a fireman's muster.

Next, I'll get on the ferry and head a bit further north to spend a few days by the Bay of Fundy with my friend, Hortensia. Hortensia is not only as black-hearted as I am, but is also one of the few people who still calls me by my college nickname -- Evilla. Don't ask. Please don't ask.

stay tuned

Though it's usually held on the first Friday of the month, due to the fact that this upcoming Friday is the Fourth of July,* the July edition of anonymous people on the internets revealing their innermost secrets has been postponed until next Friday.

Until then, why not peruse the previous iterations of Niobe's True Confessions™ A few of which are actually Niobe's own personal confessions. See if you can guess which ones.




*That is, the Fourth of July (observed). Because, as the astute observers among you will have already noticed, actually, Friday is the third of July.