the (mis)adventures of jenna

a memoir in eleventy billion parts

Pretty as a Picture February 9, 2010

Filed under: blog posts — jennawoestman @ 21:06
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Several (many) months ago, a friend of ours Rick asked Joey if he wouldn’t mind a skillz for skillz trade.  Rick goes to our church and he’s the Executive Director of an organization called Go Nigeria; he had some video footage that he wanted Joey to turn into a promotional video for their website.  In addition to being the director of Go Nigeria, Rick is also a painter.

A video for a painting.

Joey called me one afternoon to relay Rick’s suggestion, and I was all, UM, HONEY, you just work as hard as you possibly can to make Rick an amazing video, because I HEART HIS PAINTINGS.

Like I said, this was months ago.

Joey finished a short video for Rick back around Thanksgiving, and he’s almost done with the long video.  So tonight, we went out to Rick’s house to have a look-see at what paintings he had available.  His house is awesome, it’s like an art gallery.  We had lots of fun walking around and looking at them, comparing what we each saw in each painting.  (For instance, one in particular Joey thought looked like a snowstorm in the dark, and I thought it looked like hundreds of eggs marinating in a Petri dish.  But once he said the thing about  the snowstorm, I could totally see that over the eggs in a Petri dish.  Perhaps you can see where my mind naturally goes, Internet.)

After wandering around for quite some time, we finally settled on a painting, the one that happened to be my favorite.  It’s called “Underneath the Ashes”, and I LOVE the textures and colors.

This also resembles the ground and rocks we saw at Yellowstone National Park when I was a kid.  The sulfur in the geysers do some crazy cool stuff to whatever it is that makes up dirt. I think it looks a bit like a galaxy too, don’t you?

Anybody see anything else in there?

Rick is super generous, and he also gave us the painting that had been Joey’s favorite too – a really fantastic green one that reminded both Joey and I of a sunrise reflected on the calm waters of a lake in the Boundary Waters.  It’s called “Going to Change” and I think we’ll wind up hanging it above our bed.  It’s painted on a piece of wood and weighs about as much as our car, though, so Joey’s going to affix a couple of cables on the back tomorrow so it will hang better.

Please, please, PLEASE check out Rick’s site, www.whittlesey.net.  The proceeds of his art goes to the orphans served by Go Nigeria, and I think that’s amazing.

Awesome art with a conscience.

Somebody HAS to buy O’Keefe Revisited; I have loved that painting since I saw it exhibited at Wildstock a couple of years ago.  (I really think that whoever buys it should be a reader of this blog.)

So…thanks Rick.  They’re beautiful and we love them!

 

Getting Lapped February 7, 2010

Filed under: blog posts, infertility — jennawoestman @ 16:33
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I’ve never been a great runner.  I’ll do it if I’m feeling really fat, sure, but I don’t enjoy it.  And running in a race?  Psssssh, no way.  I hate to lose.  If I can’t be really good at something, there is absolutely no way I am going to do it in public.

Lately?

I feel like I’m on the starting block for the race called MAY I PLEASE HAVE A CHILD? The gun just went off and everyone around me goes taking off down the track like their shorts are on fire, but – what’s this? – my shoelace seems to have gotten stuck in a piece of gum on the ground and I cannot.get.my.foot.free.  And I’m still standing there yanking on my foot when everybody comes racing past me on their second lap around the track.

Translation: everybody seems to be miraculously on child #2 when we’re still trying to decide how in the world we’re going to either medically manufacture or legally procure child #1 for ourselves.

It’s exhausting, Internet.

Bone-tiring.

I’m tired of doing mentally calculations whenever I see a calendar.  I’m weary of feeling that painful tension all around my stomach that I totally never noticed before.  (And honestly I liked it better when I had no idea that anything was hurting.  Can we go back to that?  kthx.)  It doesn’t really hurt ME so much as it hurts my heart, because every time I feel it it’s a reminder I can’t have children.  I would almost feel better if it hurt so bad the pain knocked me over.  (Maybe I shouldn’t say that…I might jinx myself…)

I wish I could just shut off the “baby please” switch and go back to the way things were before we even started down the Trying To Have A Child path.

It was lots easier.

Life was so much simpler.

I had less baggage.

Now I sort of feel like I’m hauling around a dinged up Louis Vuitton trunk wherever I go.  (Incidentally, an antique Louis Vuitton trunk retails for $28k…USED.  That’s some seriously expensive baggage.)

Wouldn’t it be fantastic if hard decisions could get made for us?  If we were allowed to ask one thing about our future, and it would get answered?  I know exactly what I would ask.  Not WHEN would we have kids, but…IF we would ever have kids.  If I just knew for sure that it would happen someday, that would take the pressure off.

But I don’t get to know.

So…I have to figure out how to deal with the pressure myself.  Because there is no Easy button in life.

I’m going to be one tough cookie by the time we get through this.

 

Coco avant Chanel February 6, 2010

Filed under: blog posts — jennawoestman @ 19:34
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Coco Before Chanel was playing in the cheap, ghetto theater in Garland this afternoon and I’d been wanting to see it.  So we buzzed over there and caught the 3:20 matinee; we paid a whopping $2.00 for both of us to get in.

On the way to our theater, we walked past some pretty rough looking dudes who were shuffling around near the back theaters.  I wondered if maybe they were just hanging out in the theater because it’s SO COLD outside today.  I mean, that’s why we were there.  But soon we found our theater, we were just a few moments late and caught the tail end of the final preview.  We awkwardly tripped our way through the dark aisles and got seats smack dab in the middle, about halfway back.  Perfect seats.

It was one of the bigger theaters; the screen was about the same size as our entire apartment.  I glanced around and noticed that we were among about ten people watching the film. Another thing I love about the cheap theater, aside from its ghetto creepiness and basically free tickets – there is usually nobody in the movies we go to see.

Just kidding about liking the ghetto creepiness.  I don’t really like that part.  But I am willing to tolerate it for the sake of cheapness.

The movie began, and I noticed with a fair amount of surprise that the opening credits were in French.  For some reason I had thought the movie was in English…Joey didn’t want to see the movie in the first place, and homeboy doesn’t know French.  So I leaned over and whispered, “Sorry, I thought it was in English.  Maybe they’ll subtitle it?”

He assured me it would be just fine.

And shortly we were pleased to discover that there were indeed subtitles.  Except they weren’t positioned properly, so they weren’t showing on the screen.  Nearly impossible to read, but that’s what happens when you pay $1 for your ticket, yes?

About twenty minutes into the film somebody in the back must have done something to fix the titles, because they suddenly were bumped up to a readable place on the screen.  That made the rest of the movie much easier to understand because, honestly, my French just isn’t that good anymore.

So there we sat, shivering half to death (the theater had to be maybe 63 degrees) and trying to figure out what was happening in the film, when in from the back of the theater came a fair amount of ruckus.  Several of the shady dudes I had seen out in the hallway had decided to crash THIS movie, and they stomped, quite literally, down the aisle and discussed amongst themselves where they’d like to sit.

In their normal, everyday voices.

When they finally settled on a spot, there was a lot of commotion; kicking, bags rustling, EXTREMELY LOUD CHEWING, and manly hollering.

I was intensely annoyed, but also midwesternly traumatized because they SCARED ME and of all the seats in the theater, they picked the ones TWO SEATS AWAY FROM ME.

So my heart started racing about as fast as it does whenever I think about riding on an airplane, or that dream I had where Sister crashed us in to Iowa, and I tried to ignore the scary shadies sitting just a popcorn bag’s throw away from us.  It was not easy, Internet.  Not easy.

And then, suddenly, one of them got up and started stomping around again.  I really thought he was coming over towards us, but he turned at the last second and stomped back a couple rows, then went back to where he had been originally sitting.

I decided to try to ignore them.

Although they looked to me like the kind of dudes who might have guns, they also  looked like the kind of dudes who couldn’t afford guns.  So hopefully they didn’t have any, or if they had some I hoped they hadn’t brought them to the theater.  My exit strategy was going to be to yell, “I AM FROM IOWA, LEAVE ME ALONE” if they tried messing with us.

Fortunately that didn’t happen.  And as soon as the credits rolled, I pretty much lit a fire under Joey and told him to get out of here already.

We may have been the first people out of the theater.

 

And then I THREW HIM UNDER THE BUS. (With all the love in my heart.) February 5, 2010

Filed under: blog posts — jennawoestman @ 22:21
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Tonight we went to dinner at Maggiano’s because we had a gift card.  And, really, what better way is there to celebrate the commencement of your weekend than to go spend free money on delicious food you don’t have to make?  THERE ISN’T ONE.  We were all going to the free valet parking, since it was Maggiano’s, but when we got there…the Valet guy wasn’t at his post.  So instead of driving up there and sitting around waiting for him to show up, like the couple of idiots we are, we just parked and walked in.

And I was all, well, we didn’t get the valet experience, BUT WE SAVED THE $1 TIP.

So we’ve still never actually valet parked our car.  I guess this is one experience we’re just going to have to forego.

We managed to only use half of our gift card, and we squealed to ourselves as we walked out the door carrying a bag of leftovers that this was even more awesome since we could go out for dinner again!!!!

I had recently come into possession of some Christmas money, some of which was in the form of a gift card to Williams Sonoma.  I love Williams Sonoma with all of my heart, because I love to browse the tools and pans and various awesome things they have.  But what I really covet every single time I go in there?  The essential oil kitchen candles.

Yeah…I realize it’s the totally wrong thing to covet in a store full of All-Clad pots and pans and Le Creuset French Ovens.  That’s just how it is.

I agonized for a good 30 minutes over the best, most effective way to maximize my gift card.

Then, I did what I thought I would do from the moment walked in the store.

I bought a kitchen candle.  Because it is my Christmas gift card, and those should be squandered in semi-careless fashion.

I got the Basil scent.  It smells….heavenly.  And the odd thing is that I really don’t care for the scent of basil in my food.  (If you really want to know, whenever I smell it, it makes me feel like I’m going to throw up.  And if you didn’t want to know, then sorry.)

After Williams Sonoma, we continued our lap around NorthPark (as we usually do), and as we walked past the Aveda store, Joey said, “Oh!  You should go in, they’re giving samples today with a hair consultation.”

I tried to tell him I didn’t want to.  Because I was really kind of ambivalent about it and, frankly, I think those hair consultation things are uncomfortable.  (I don’t like random strangers touching my head, OK?)  I did one last time I was in there buying Smooth Infusion Glossing Straightener, which I highly recommend, and I felt like I didn’t really need to repeat the experience.

But somehow we were propelled into the store, mostly because Joey was steering me in.

Like I said, I feel really uncomfortable with these types of things.  So we started looking (awkwardly) at the Scalp Remedy I got recently to kind of give us an alibi for being in there in the first place.  Like we were in there for something other than the free stuff.  And the sales guy came over to us and said, “Hi, how are you?”

I totally froze.  I looked at him with that deer in the headlights look that under-socialized engineering students at Iowa State University have, and I said “Um, fine.”

Then I said, “He needs a hair consultation,” and shoved Joey forward.

The look he gave me was not unlike what you would see from one of those reality shows where there’s a lot of backstabbing and cut-throat type competition.  I’m pretty sure he wanted my head on a platter.

So there he stood, poor, poor Joey, as the sales man messed around with his hair and asked him what he put in it.  He sampled the styling creme and then the sales man dashed off to get some samples.  Joey glared at me while we waited, and soon enough the sales  man floated back to drop the samples in our bags.  And then we got out of there as fast as he could drag me.

“YOU THREW ME UNDER THE BUS!” He gasped.  I think he had been holding his breath the entire time we were in the store.

“Well….well I didn’t really want to do it in the first place,” I said.  ”But we got you free samples of the shampo you already use!” I chirped.  ”And samples of the gel too!”

Yes, yes.  Joey already uses the Aveda manly shampoo and conditioner and gel.  So the consultation was totally unnecessary.

“I cannot believe you threw me under the bus,” he said again.

It happens.

 

The Final Bill February 5, 2010

Filed under: blog posts, infertility — jennawoestman @ 07:00
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Last week, we finally got the last bill for IVF.

I was too scared to open it, so Joey tore through the envelope and pulled out the sheet.  He looked at it kind of blankly, then he handed it to me and said, “Well, it’s exactly what we expected.  No more, no less.”

That puts us at out of pocket costs of $2,000 for the IVF cycle.  It seems like A LOT for seminary students, but when I think of how much it actually costs I know I have nothing to complain about.  And I really am thankful we only had to pay $2k. I know there are people who have to pay for all of it.

It’s kind of lame to shovel $2k into your doctor’s moneybags when IT DIDN’T WORK, but she tried her hardest.  And she did a good job.  And I trust that woman so much that if she said, “Jenna, you need to shave your head and wear a giant yellow chicken costume for the next two months and you’ll get pregnant” I would do it.

No questions asked.

Joey has almost finished up our tax return and due to some new tax credit for higher education, we’re getting back kind of a ridiculous amount of money this year.  Like think of it in terms of very nearly two IVF cycles.  (That’s how I did anyway.)

So thanks to Uncle Sam and all the money of ours that he’s giving back to us (after stashing it away in his coffers for the last year), we will not have to wipe out most our rainy day savings for an IVF or two (…if I feel like it).

And I’m really thankful.

 

Thing 1 and Thing 2 February 5, 2010

Filed under: blog posts — jennawoestman @ 06:51
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Grr, I can’t think of a sweet title for this post.  Mostly because I just woke up and I have two entirely unrelated things bouncing around in my head that my brain is like PUT THESE ON THE INTERNET ALREADY and so I have to do it.  (Really that’s why I blog: my brain gives me no peace if I don’t.)

Thing #1

Last night I watched CSI at my house.  I KNOW, I KNOW!!  We don’t even have an official TV!

For the Olympics that begin next weekend (7 days, 12 1/2 hours from right now, to be exact) we rigged up a setup that turns my laptop into a TV.  We plug this thingy into it and it acts as a receiver or something, then we attach a digital antenna that we got at Best Buy.

The digital antenna is about as moody as woman on fertility drugs, though, because it won’t pull down CBS unless either Joey is touching it, or he has it smashed up against the plate glass window.  NBC (the Olympics station) isn’t that much trouble, fortunately.  We just have to put it on top of the bookshelf, basically on the ceiling.  Then it works just fine.

Anyway, we watched CSI last night.  And I really liked it.

Thing #2

My dermatologist called me yesterday afternoon.  The results from my Staph culture were back and – guess what! – that’s exactly what was wrong with my face.  UNFORTUNATELY, I had decided (independently and without consulting Joey, of course) that there was really no way that’s what it was; it had to be, like, a zombie zit from the underworld or something. I had pretty much stopped taking the medicines she gave me because it seemed like it was getting better on its own.

So when the nurse told me to continue using the topical antibiotic twice daily for 3 weeks and the oral antibiotic once daily for 3 weeks I was tempted to ask if the 3 weeks started from LAST Friday, or THIS Friday.  But she was probably assuming I had been a responsible patient (which I usually am) and had been obedeient.

To save face, I let her keep that assumption…and then I went home and slathered Bactroban all over my face and popped my pill.

I told Joey I hadn’t been taking my medicine and he sighed (which he usually has to do a lot with me) and told me I had better get back on the horse.

No problem.

Don’t want my face swelling all up again, nosiree bob.

 

It’s not working February 2, 2010

Filed under: blog posts, infertility — jennawoestman @ 06:52
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Remember that new alarm clock we got a few months back?  Yeah, well, it ain’t workin’.  I mean, it wakes us up and everything, but we still slap the snooze.

And it’s all the way over on the other side of the room.

So this means that we now have a system.  Joey slaps first snooze, I slap second snooze, and sometimes Joey slaps third snooze again before we actually get up.  Sigh.

I can’t recall being as bone-tired before as I have been lately.  It’s so annoying; no matter when I go to bed at night, I feel like I’m performing a gold-medal-worthy feat just dragging myself out of bed by 6:45 and barely squeaking by with enough time to dry my hair in the mornings.  Maybe it’s leftover exhaustion vestiges from IVF.  I have no idea.  But I wish I could figure it out.

All this to say: the new alarm clock is not changing our lives like I had hoped.

But I feel like I’ve got to do something to get my energy back, but I have no idea what it might be.  Any suggestions?  Electric shock nodes implanted into my eyeballs?

Must…drink…coffee…

Except this morning I made decaf.  Because I felt sorry for it because it was almost used up, but not quite, and sitting on the counter all lonesome.

Joey just came shuffling by me mumbling, “I’m so tired every morning.  But….it takes me like an hour to fall asleep every night.”

And I was all, “It’s because you forgot to plug your Awesome in.”

I’m really not sure what that means.

 

In Fort Worth February 1, 2010

Filed under: blog posts, infertility — jennawoestman @ 19:15
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Almost overnight, we discovered that we now have a new term for “infertility” in our house.  Oh yes.  Yes, Internet, it is now called “Fort Worth”.  (Thank you, foot-in-mouth Womens Ministry Lady.)

Last night we were sitting on the futon, which I hate and am dying to replace because it is colossally uncomfy, when I said, “I’m sorry I’m in Fort Worth.”

Joey snapped his head around and looked at me.  ”HEY,” he said.

“No, seriously.” I sighed.  ”Sometimes I am afraid you’ll wish you married someone else…someone who wasn’t in Fort Worth so then you could have kids.”

“Stop that right now,” Joey told me.  ”WE are in Fort Worth.  WE are.  Not you.”

I sighed again.  Because really that does bother me, it bothers me a lot.

“I don’t want to be married to anyone else, even if they could have dozens of kids.  I want to be married to YOU.  Even if that means we have to be in Fort Worth.”  And he squeezed my hand tightly.

“OK,” I squeaked.

A few moments later; “At least there are the Stockyards in Fort Worth,” I said.  (In the real Fort Worth, that is.)

Joey just laughed at me.  ”Way to think positive,” he said.

“And I do call you Cow already.”  (It’s true, I call Joey Cow because I like cows and I like Joey so…of course I’d call him Cow.)

So I guess we’ll do just fine in Fort Worth.  Since we have to be there.

 

Mysterious Sign Sighting: 75231 January 31, 2010

Filed under: blog posts, mysterious sign sighting — jennawoestman @ 08:08
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It’s amazing what you can find at your local Home Depot.  I’m just saying.

 

Joey’s Turn January 30, 2010

Filed under: blog posts, infertility — jennawoestman @ 08:00
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Joey was at a church in the area filming some B-roll for a piece he’s putting together.  They arrived a little too early, so after they got all the cameras set up he found himself chatting with two women.  One was an associate of his, and the other was the lady they were planning to film.

“So, do you have any kids?” She, the subject of the film, said to him, after the had exchanged the requisite pleasantries.

“No, we don’t,” poor Joey replied.  And we hate that question.

“Oh that’s good,” she gushed.  ”It’s SO much easier to get through seminary without any kids running around while you’re trying to study.”

“Sure,” Joey said.  Whatever you say, lady.

She asked about three different kid-related questions before she came to The Kicker.

“And WHEN are you going to get around to having children?” That’s just a brazen question if you ask me.

Joey had had it up to here at this point; he had been tactfully trying to put off the children questions for the longest time.  And, well, she DID ask.  ”Actually, we’re infertile,” he said.

“I’m sorry, you’re in Fort Worth?” She asked, eyes wide.  (NO LIE.  She said that.)

“No.” Joey said slowly.  ”We’re IN-FER-TILE.”

“OH!” She gasped.  I can just imagine the mental gymnastics she was doing, trying to decide if she had said anything inappropriate.  She probably assured themselves she was just fine. (I actually made a few blunders like this a few years ago, and I feel SO bad about them now.)

“Well, that’s OK,” she recovered quickly and said with a flick of her wrist.  ”You can always adopt.”

Joey wanted to drop his camera on her foot and march out of there, but he – bless his heart – stayed and continued the conversation.  One thing we hate is when people flippantly write off infertility with the “oh, no big deal, just get a child from Child Protective Services or something; Heaven knows there are thousands of them out there” attitude.

And we realize it’s not meant flippantly when it’s offered as a suggestion, but it sure feels that way when someone you don’t know just shoves it in your face like that.

I’m not sure what Joey said to her because, honestly, adoption is something we’ve tossed around.  But we’re not there yet.  We still want to know what Joey+Jenna looks like.  We’re not ready.

A few minutes after the adoption comment, she asked Joey what he was in seminary studying.  He told her he was planning to be a youth pastor, and her eyes lit up again.  ”WELL!  Just think of all those kids you can be parents to!  That’s WONDERFUL!”

Again, Joey’s shoulders sunk a little bit.  He understood what she was trying to say, but once again it was super inappropriate. It’s just not the same as actually having children, and it feels like you’re cheapening both youth ministry and the desire to have kids by equating the two.

As we were driving home and he was relating this to me, it struck me that this was the first time that Joey’s gotten the grilling.  I’ve had it several times because, let’s face it, women default to the “so when are you having children” question in get-to-know-you settings.  (Although, no one has asked me if I was in Fort Worth when I told them I’m infertile before.  That’s a new low.)  But I was sorry he had to face the questions.

It’s not his fault.  So I’d just rather all the rude ladies came through me.

Maybe someday it’ll get easier.

The most awkward part, though, in these conversations where we really don’t know the person (and, frankly, taking into consideration in these circumstances that they probably don’t care too much about us) is trying to decide HOW to handle the completely inappropriate things they say regarding infertilty.  Like…should I say, “um, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW AWFUL THAT WAS?” to them?  Because it would just cause them a great deal of embarrassment.

However, if I don’t say something, they’re more likely to keep saying terrible things to other infertile (did anyone else hear Fort Worth?) women.

Especially if these women are in WOMENS MINISTRY, like the one from yesterday was, and they should really know all kinds of better.

There is definitely no easy answer.

Because the last thing that sounds like a good idea is getting into an awkward situation with someone you barely know over the most painful part of your life.  And all because they were just asking normal, fertile-people questions and wouldn’t quit.

BLECH.

Joey doesn’t know either.  Because he never could decide what to do with this particular woman.  So he held his tongue.