Tuesday, July 31, 2007

you'd think, wouldn't you, that when you were writing to a woman proposing destruction of her stored embryos, that you'd do it tactfully? you'd think so. by way of background, my state has a law saying that after 5 years embryos need to be 'disposed of', or you need to seek further permission for storage, which is usually given.

but no. I popped into the PO to pick up a registered letter last week. and while the incompetent clerk was struggling with the idea of a bank deposit, opened the letter. the first thing I saw, in bold type, were words to the general effect of "get back to us within four weeks or the embies DIE!!!". of course I was a little rattled by this. rang on mobile and left a message with ivf clinic "embryo manager" (really!) about how upset I was.

eventually got onto her on the phone the next day, having read the whole letter from start to finish. of course it contained all kinds of caveats, and legalistic crap. the accompanying permission-to-kill-my-babies form which they presumptuously included referred to me as "the woman" all the way through, as in, "these embryos are no longer required for transfer to the woman". lovely way to talk about a mother, that is.

so she got the form to apply for an extension out to me quick smart and I've sent it off - will check in three weeks if I haven't heard back. the whole thing freaks me out, knowing if it fucks up there are no more embies, ever, that's it. some things you can let ride, but this one, I'm going to ride hard. if you'll excuse the confused metaphor.

and don't even get me started on the arbitrary ways of kindergarten schedulers, who take what you said in Jan 2005 as an indication of your firm plans for Jan 2008! like, that will be the form I filled out when I still had a job to go back to? and, yeah, when I was about to commence chemo and thought I might be DEAD by now? in which case my kid would have needed the five days long day care I was allocated, at a cost of $11,000 a year. aargh. bureaucrats and families. they just don't mix.

otherwise, yeah, I'm fine, swimming lots, not writing much, going to uni, planning three days by myself in queensland...husband has a new job starting soon and I have decided to have a break before the stress hits.


Monday, July 09, 2007

got around to perusing the LRC's report on surrogacy this morning. it actually, very briefly, quotes me as a person considering surrogacy.

but of course it means nothing without government action. and I'm increasingly thinking this is not the way we will go. if the weekend's activities were anything to go by, it will not go anywhere at all. frankly, I've had it with his oversensitive little sulks. apparently I said the wrong thing about his driving as we were heading up the country, with the result that despite an open fire, red wine and a couple of hints on my part, no moves were made. the cold shoulder was presented. and then, as I was about to try to go to sleep, he had the gall to come the "I love you" line. which of course sent me into tears on the couch. which he allowed to happen without getting up himself to try to talk. and without addressing the issue the next day. like it's normal for once a month or so (and I don't have a hormonal cycle, remember), one's wife to be a sobbing wreck.

more of the same last night. so now I am very tired and thinking it might be good if he took the job which involves long hours and lots of travel. a paid babysitter would be more reliable than him re: my need to get out once in a while. and I don't want him around the house much. when he comes home at 7.30, it's like I've just put one kid to bed and then need to start cooking for/taking care of the next one. I'd rather have an hour of peace to write, work, talk on the phone.

I don't know what it is. I have tried making the first move - have the last 3-4 times, which is our sum total for the year - it was so his turn. I cooked. I poured the wine. I was ignored because of his supposed hurt feelings (which he chose not to share with me verbally). so his feelings are paramount, while his marriage falls apart. idiot.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

just dropped A off at kindy.should be working, so quick post. have paid work coming in next week, so there will be no writing time - I haven't been very productive lately, which I put down to a lack of discipline on my part really.

but wondering: why is it so OK to put kids in care for paid work, but socially frowned on to do it because Mum wants a day off, or, like me, is indulging a non-paying passion for creative work?

I know the answer: because we can hide behind the "must earn money" thing. the kids need private schools, we need to save for retirement, we want an extra bedroom. all that. but beyond earning enough to live on, isn't it all a matter of choice? I know some people would frown on me for putting A. in care to study and write, and it's something I have to steel myself to admit, even to myself: I do it because I want to. I do it because though I love him, I love other things to. I do it because his Dad works long hours and I need time alone in my own head. I do it because I feel like swimming some afternoons. I particularly am doing it now because the afternoon naps are fading (bang goes my own sleep plus about seven hours' productive time a week). I shouldn't need excuses.

and he loves it there, he's happy, and when I'm with him, though I drag him around shops and markets, I also dance with him, do puzzles, cook, go for walks to playgrounds and "petting zoos" (as the Americans call it. He knows I love him more than anything. And increasingly, just lately, though tired, I'm happy. nice change, huh?

Sunday, July 01, 2007

July 1. Two years post-treatment, in my self-chosen reckoning (which excludes the radiotherapy treatment.) two years out of chemo. two years with no recurrence (that we know of)

Sunday morning; garden's a mess, house is a mess, child is asleep (at 8), I have lots of money-earning and non money earning work to do. husband's asleep. husband still working long hours, is doing job interview tomorrow for one with even longer hours + travel, but at least he'd enjoy it (pay no better, but not relevant).

breakfast time.8.02 and child stirring. must blog properly soon.

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