I can't imagine it's a very good sign when the prospect of surgery and the subsequent week off is as exciting as going on vacation. I think I need to put a hold on the overtime for a while.

What is actually exciting to sane people, is the two weeks of vacation after my surgery vacation. That's right, three consecutive weeks off! Camping, gardening, knitting and cleaning are a few of the things I am looking forward to. I am also looking forward to accepting treatment when offered when I call the period hot line next month. I'm pretty sure it will be offered, I just have to make sure Mr. M doesn't do his typical panic-fueled backpedal when it happens. I love all of him, even the neuroses. He'll be fine.

I will also be celebrating my twenty-eighth birthday while on holidays. That one I'm looking forward to with one part dread, two parts happiness. I like twenty-eight, it sounds like a good number. I think if I had to choose an age to stay at forever, it would be twenty-eight. Dread because we started this crazy journey when I was 25, we're getting pretty darn close to three years here. I never - even when I suspected something was wrong - would have guessed it was going to take this long. I strongly suspect I will be getting a Can.on Reb.el camera for my birthday. Good timing considering as of two weeks ago my camera is on the bottom of the Bow River after that fateful canoe trip. Still having nightmares about that one.

I guess when vacation is over, so too is our summer. This has been a great summer already, the last half can only be better.

I think I've found the acorn of my anger, the one that has become the mighty oak, if you will. I am angry that I will never be surprised when I get pregnant. I hate that Mr. M will never be surprised. I'll never get to run, screaming, into bed waving a positive pee stick in his face. I'll never have a carefree pregnancy, blissfully unaware of all that can go wrong, instead worrying that I tricked some power above, below or around us into giving me a baby and once they find out, they'll take it away. I hate that I have to put on a happy face every time someone announces a pregnancy and try not to look like someone just punched me in the gut. I hate that even when I do get pregnant I will never identify with other pregnant women. Even now all I think is "You have no idea how badly this could end". I feel robbed of a basic human right.

I used to be angry because I felt I didn't deserve this (not that anyone does) or that I should have to go through this. With my first baby, I was 20 years old and had just had my whole life taken out at the knees. This was not a happy, carefree pregnancy. It was 8 months working three jobs just trying to build up a nest egg and some contacts for when I went back to work, knowing it would not be the full year we're given because I was a contractor and was not paying employment insurance. I wanted something easy, just once. I have had to work so hard for everything, I have been sh-t on my entire life and still managed to maintain a Pollyanna attitude. I just wanted this one thing to be easy.

This time it was planned. Discussed long before any pills were thrown out and we were so excited. Then impatient. Then annoyed. Then angry. I think I have compartmentalized my anger now and just have to go back and visit it every once in a while to make sure it doesn't escape out of the box I've put it in. Seems to be working.

P.S. I think I need to make and carry around a list of things that have come easily, to remind me that not everything was as hard as it seems. Well, I can name one right now. Ms. O has got to be the most delightful child on this planet. She is easy. Loving her and parenting her is easy. I'll take it.

I'm struggling with a decision. A big one. Mr. M has offered to take over my finances including receiving my paycheque and paying off the rest of my debt. He would give me the money I need on a weekly basis (yes, an allowance) as well as anything I need above that. The advantage being I would have to think twice before spending money on anything because I would have to tell him what the money is for. I have a tendency toward impulse purchases, untimely purchases, extraneous purchases. Generally, I love to spend money. This would really only benefit me.

My fear is I would never feel as though I have anything of my own. What if I want a weekend away? How would I really know I'm contributing to our savings if I can't see how much I'm contributing? I'm afraid I'll feel like some degenerate leech with my hand out, begging for money. I know most marriages work this way, one joint account, sharing expenses. How do you keep track of what you can justify spending and what you can't?

Obviously I would have to get my name put on his account. If something, knock on wood, ever happened to him, I would end up with nothing. This requires further thought and planning. I can't just hand all of this responsibility over without making a list first (lists being my anti-anxiety medication of course).

Uh oh. Still two weeks away from surgery and the baby thoughts are taking over again. Checking Bab.ycentre boards, looking at IF blogs when I should be working, thinking of knitting baby blankets. I was doing so well, I don't want to fall into that vicious circle until there is actually a reason.

I'm really looking forward to this weekend. It will be our first of the last seven weekends where we will be home. Well, not true, a couple of weekends ago we were home but it didn't count because Mr. M's sister was visiting from Ontario. It hardly counts as a weekend off when you are dragged from mall to mall (ugh) and to the Cal.gary Stam.pede (twice!). I will clean my house, I will weed my vegetable garden (properly) and Ms. O will be selling lemonade tomorrow.

I can't even explain how happy I am to have her back. I'm not myself without her around. I drink way too much when she isn't here. What do you do when kids aren't around? Go for beers, of course! One night while she was away I was pushing dinner back more and more until M. M said he was starving, why didn't I want to eat? I said I didn't know what to do after dinner, I was afraid to eat. He suggested I give him a bath and read him a chapter of Ha.rry Po.tter.

It's not that I don't have a life outside of her but it interrupts the progression of the day. If I don't absolutely have to do something, it seems I choose to start a fire in the backyard (in the fire pit, I mean) and crack a beer instead. Laundry? Pffft. Go for a walk? As if. None if it is quite as much fun without her following me around talking non-stop. Even a trip to the bookstore wasn't the same without her. Some of my friends complain that daily chores are more difficult with kids, waiting to go for groceries until after their husbands come home and so on. I've just never really felt that way. Granted Ms. O was a really quiet baby so I never did have to deal with the screaming baby while in line behind 20 other people. Even if she did cry in line it didn't bother me. I'm sure everyone else in line didn't feel the same way but like I said to one grumbling gum-snapping 19(ish) year old in line at Supe.rstore "Babies cry".

Well, I'm rambling now, I should go.

Ms. O is back, life is returning to it's normal state and I couldn't be happier. I've been working a lot of overtime the last month and camping every weekend, including last weekend when I had a near death experience. I'm still pretty shaken up and couldn't have been more grateful that Ms. O wasn't with us. The situation could have been much worse. Needless to say, I will not be canoeing on a river anytime soon. I think a 20' wide raft should do the trick next year. Everyone is ok aside from a really wicked bruise on my arm and some nicks and scratches.

I need to find more time to blog, I've just been so tired and considering we're in a holding pattern until my tubes come out in August, I really haven't been thinking about trying to conceive for the last two months. I did take a pregnancy test last cycle but only because I was at 35 days and nothing and wanted to make sure I could imbibe over the weekend.

That's all for now, surgery is August 10 and I might (fingers crossed) start IVF #1 in September. Finally.