Dogs Aren’t Kids

{This post is inspired by new favorite bloggers name…}

I have been thinking lately about our pets, mainly dog pets. Aka furbabies, aka granddogger, aka bitch, aka mans best friend. And how they become part of our families, how they become like our babies, how they fill that snuggle spot and comfort us in times of need.

Many people literally treat their dogs like they are their kids.

They get mad at you when your dog snips at their out of control kid dog.

They throw outrageous birthday parties for their kids dogs.

They dress their kids dogs up.

They feed their kids dogs the most expensive high end food.

They get defensive about their kid dog if you say something critical.

They throw balls and Frisbees for their kids dogs.

They snuggle with their kids dogs.

They play with their kids dogs.

They whisper sweet nothings into their kids dogs ears.

They pick up after their kids dogs.

They kiss their kids dogs.

They take pictures of their kids dogs and post them on instagram.

They clean up their kids dogs shit.

 

At the end of the day most of us know a dog isn’t a kid, no matter how much we might treat them like they are a missing limb. A dog is a dog is a dog {and ya’ll know I am a dog person and this is coming from someone without kids, with a dog}.  It’s funny how the same friends who once treated their dogs like kids have suddenly forgotten about the love they had for their kid dog once they have actual kids. Almost over night after having babies their once beloved pet becomes 2nd hand news. They fall to the wayside. How easy it is to forget the love of our precious mates. {Don’t worry give them all to me so I can start a small kid dog farm. Hubs would love that}.

For me, I love my dog and I try to relate to my mom friends by somewhat comparing my Dorie to their baby. People don’t like this very much and the conversation usually goes something like this:

“Ugh. You know what really bugs me? When so-and-so compares her dog to my kid. Or when so-and-so refers to his or her dog as his or her kid. Dogs are not kids! She has NO IDEA what it means to have a kid!”  You know what? Unless “so-and-so” needs professional help, I guarantee “so-and-so” knows that her dog is not a human child. She also knows that having a dog is nothing like having a kid. What she’s really saying is “Oh! Yes. I also have something in my life that shits on things AND brings me joy.” She is trying to relate to you and be a part of your life — the life where all you do is talk about your kids. I know that it’s hard to relate when you have kids and your friends don’t. What were once close relationships can become sporadic meet-ups where you do your best to try and catch up with someone with whom you have very little in common anymore. Sure, you two were best buds in college, but now you have very different lives. So, when “so-and-so” offhandedly, and perhaps awkwardly, tries to relate to your story about picking poo out of your bangs by comparing it to scraping dog shit out of the carpet, cut her some slack. She’s just trying to be nice. And she misses you. {thanks huffington post}

So we get it. Dogs are dogs. Kids are kids. But at the end of the day those little lovers where the first experience most of us had at  learning how to parent, love, discipline, and keep another living thing alive. So love the shit out of them.

Thanks.

doriedog

 

 

 

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chicken.

I’m a big fat chicken. Let’s back up…

Last night hubs and I were planning on attending this new Love and Loss Support group at our old church. It is a support group for couples dealing with loss of a baby, miscarriage, stillbirths, or infertility. My husbands parents sent us the flyer and thought it might be beneficial to us. I was excited at first about the opportunity to come together with other couples dealing with similar issues as we are, but when I got to thinking I pretty much over analyzed the whole thing and freaked myself about before ever getting there. Hence, why I am a chicken.

I felt like my “loss” would not be as big as other couples. I have never been pregnant or carried a baby full term to have it lost or have had a miscarriage or worse.

I felt like we were going to be the only ones suffering from infertility and people were going to judge that we didn’t really understand what loss was.

I was scared that we were going to be breaking up into groups- men and women- and I wouldn’t have my husband there for the support I need.

I was scared to hear sad, sad stories that may frighten me into not ever wanting kids. We forget that getting pregnant is really only the first tiny step. So much more comes after.

I was scared of being categorized.

I was willing to go if my husband was all into it, but he said he wanted to be there to support me and that he wanted to go if I wanted to. Ball in my court. Dang. I wanted him to be like, “Yes Rikki we are going. It will be good for us.” Since I didn’t get that I rationalized with myself all day. Going back and forth, back and forth. I finally decided I wasn’t really that into going… or so I think…

I really have felt stronger and better the last week or so. I feel like I have turned a corner and that each day is getting easier. I haven’t had the gut-punch feeling when I see a pregnant girl or hear an announcement. I haven’t felt that twinge of jealously when I hang around my friends and their kids. I am actually enjoying my childfree existence. I have been activity trying to be positive and participate in things that make me feel good. Writing this blog helps. Exercising and focusing that energy on my body and health helps. Not talking about infertility helps. Being outside helps. I even made it into the baby section at Nordstrom Rack yesterday to pick out some outfits for my new niece {this is a HUGE step people}. I couldn’t bring myself to buy anything, but it was a big step to just go look. In doing all these things I feel like I am well on my way to “recovery”.

If this support group would have fallen into my hands a month ago I would have been all over it. I almost felt that by going it would have set me backwards. I feel like I am doing things to manage my sadness in a positive way. I feel like hubs and I are getting on the right track with each other again. I didn’t want to go to this group and focus on sadness and what is not. I am past that {at the moment}. I know I could have possibly learned other ways to cope, I know my story may have helped another {maybe}, and another’s story may have helped me. I think I was being the judgey one by not giving it a chance or assuming it was going to go a certain way. I know I was trying to talk myself out of going the whole time out of fear… BUT at the moment I am happy {most of the time} where we are…. at least that is what I am telling myself so I don’t seem like such a chicken…

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#100happydays

I have been seeing a lot of friends and fellow bloggers posting this #100HappyDays thing lately, so I decided to check it out. Needless to say I am starting today. I think this is a fantastic way to stay positive, thankful, and hopefully happier through this whole infertility mess.

So what is it?

We live in times when super-busy schedules have become something to boast about. While the speed of life increases, there is less and less time to enjoy the moment that you are in. The ability to appreciate the moment, the environment and yourself in it, is the base for the bridge towards long term happiness of any human being.  So what do you do? Every day submit a picture of what made you happy!  It can be anything from a meet-up with a friend to a very tasty cake in the nearby coffee place, from a feeling of being at home after a hard day, to a favor you did to a stranger.

#100happyday challenge is for you – not for anyone else.  It is not a happiness competition or a showing off contest. If you try to please/make others jealous via your pictures – you lose without even starting. Same goes for cheating.
I will be doing a blog post every week with the compellation of my #100happyday pics that I took during the week. You can also follow me on Instagram where I will be posting my 100days:: hairyago_rikki
I challenge you all to do your own #100happydays!
100happydays
Day 1: I am happy to be breathing. I rolled out of bed and took this picture. No makeup. I didn’t brush my teeth. I didn’t brush my hair. Just happy that I am able to get out of bed and take a deep breath… #100happydays
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the dream.

I have never put this down into words and I very rarely talk about it because I believe in the law of attraction and I am also a little superstitious. But here it is because I need to know what you believe…

When hubs and I first started our journey into baby making {about 3 years ago} I had a very vivid dream one night. This dream came to me when I started to figure out we might have a problem conceiving because it had been a year of trying with no success.

//I am walking through what seems like a field. It was a bit hilly with grass and some sparse trees. It is a sunny day maybe a couple cotton ball clouds in the sky. Along this field is a low brick or rock wall, kind of like a fence running along where I am walking. All of a sudden I stop and bend down to pick up a loose rock that looks out of place in the wall, but it turns into a brick. As I pick it up I see that the underside of the brick has a note carved into it. It says: You will never carry your own children. GOD.// That is all. That is the dream.

Freakkkkky right? I really don’t know what to make of this dream. Was this God really talking to me and trying to tell me something? Was God giving me the sign I had been praying for? Or is this the Devil trying to mess with me? Or my mind playing to tricks on me because I was very stressed out at the time about all things fertility? I am a Christian. I am a spiritual. I have talked to God a lot in my life, but God has not ever spoke to me in this way, if this is what it is. I don’t want to believe that this letter or note from God is true. I want to think it was just my dreams playing tricks on me, but a part of me feels that this really may be a sign. I have never stopped thinking about this dream. It is always there in the back of my mind, tapping me whenever we have a failed IUI or Aunt Flow makes her monthly visit.

So do I heed the warning of this dream and make preparations for having children in another way or do I keep on this path of trying to conceive my own baby in my own body? I am at a loss on this one. Is this truly a sign from God?

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Today.

Today was the first day in a million years that I saw a pregnant girl and I wasn’t jealous of her. I actually found myself feeling thankful for my flat belly {ok let’s be honest it isn’t really flat and most of the time I might look questionably like I have a baby bump} But anyways, today at the supermarket when I saw her bump wobbling around about to pop, I felt fine, even great that I could sprint in and out of the store grabbing a couple of items without the possibility of a clean up on aisle 5.

I have been working hard on getting my body, mind, and soul back into shape and my work is paying off. One day at a time. Today was a good day.

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I’m Still Human.

It’s funny how people can make you feel less than human about not having children. Like it is a choice that I don’t have kids, or people assume I just don’t want kids because we have been married almost 4 years and don’t have any. Countless times I have had to say through clenched teeth ” no, no kids yet, but we want them.” I do hair for weddings and it seems like I have been getting the question a lot lately about having not having kids. {already society has an ideal of how life’s order should go. date, get engaged, get married, have babies.} What I really want to do is scream at them and say “well since you asked, we have been trying for almost 3 years with no success. I have gobbled countless meds, spread my legs to a handful of different doctors, been pricked with God knows how many needles and I am still here with no baby! Thanks for asking. Oh yeah. I suggest you start trying immediately because who knows how long it will take.”

I have been trying to put into words for months about how society has been making me feel about my “situation”. I could not pinpoint it until I read a couple of articles from fellow bloggers. Then it hit me. It’s perfect. What I am experiencing from society and even close friends is called the “Fertility Privilege”. Privilege is any societal advantage you hold because your skin color, your gender, your sexual identity, your able-bodiedness, your age, your class, your education, your language, or your religion are accepted and prioritized by dominant culture. Privilege means that there are benefits you enjoy – whether consciously or unconsciously, and that part’s really important – because of something about you that society values more than something else. Frequently these are things you were born with, or into.

So, that’s privilege. Now let’s talk about fertility privilege. Breeder privilege? I-can-get-knocked-up-and-carry-a-baby-to-term-and-successfully-push-it-out-of-my-vagina privilege? Or possibly I-can-knock-up-others-so-that-they-carry-and-successfully-deliever privilege? I can only express to you what it feels like to not be privileged in any of these categories. All around us commercials are telling us you aren’t complete until you get married, get a dog, have a baby, and then another. A constant stream of babies smiling and pooping fill my Facebook feed every minute. Friends and family make me feel like I have to have children to complete my life with my significant other. That just being happy in my marriage with our dog isn’t enough. I don’t want a baby to complete my family. I feel complete now. I want children to add to our family. To add to the joy and happiness we already posses with each other. It feels like the norm and the end all be all to happiness and value is baring a child- unless you are incapable of doing so, then those thoughts are what preoccupy your mind for most of the day.

So why are we making it the norm to put infertility on the backburner as if it is not a privilege to be able to birth a child? Why do we act like infertility doesn’t really exist and someday, yes someday, don’t worry you too will have a baby and be “normal”. People are really insensitive. Think about it… if you even had a few friends on Facebook who were severely disabled by missing limbs, you might think twice before you posted daily pics of your arms and how awesome and full of love and mystery and delight they are. You wouldn’t consistently ask that friend with no legs, “Hey did your limb grow back yet? Did you go to that great place and get a mani/pedi?” You might think twice if someone important to you had recently lost a spouse and you really wanted to post all your wedding pictures. Now I am not saying women should not be able to celebrate their children or pregnancies on an open podium, but I am trying to bring to light how things like this never really occur to us when it comes to infertility because fertility is an unexamined privilege.

So what should we do with unexamined privilege? We should examine it, to start with. We should take a look at what we’re putting out in the world and think about how it might effect others– those small, unconscious acts of verbal violence that we deal out without meaning to that make other people feel invisible, invalid, inhuman. We should not examine it and then say, “I have examined my privilege! Now stop being all disenfranchised at me! It’s making me uncomfortable!” We should continue to approach people with humility, empathy, and the firm understanding that we do not know what their experience is, just because we once had a brief moment of the same experience or we know someone who did.

So lets make a pact. Maybe we can all be a little more sensitive, a little more understanding, a little more aware.

Source: schrodingerscatbox {Thanks for being amazing.}

 

 

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Wanderlust

Another week. Another trip. I guess this is how I am dealing with the fact that I am unable to produce a babes. I have been pre-occupying my mind and body with travel so I don’t have time to be sad about my un-pregnated belly. San Felipe, to Santa Cruz to San Francisco, to stay-cationing at Mission Beach. Next on the list is Napa, Oregon, and hopefully DC before one of my best friends moves! I am also planning a 30th birthday to Puerto Rico next year. I may just travel for the rest of my life… This is actually a fantastic way to keep ones self busy and happy. I love love love to travel and I am fortunate enough that I am able to do so.

We should probably be saving our money for infertility purposes, but I just don’t want to right now! I don’t want to think about anything other than me, myself, and I… and Husband and Dorie Dog 🙂 You know that quote, “Not all that wander are lost.”? Well I want to get lost. I want my mind, body, and soul to get unequivocally lost for a while. It has felt so good lately to not have to be on any sort of schedule. I almost forgot what it was like to have sex to just have sex. I almost forgot how to have a normal conversation that didn’t involve any type of baby lingo. And damn. It feels good to just be a 20 something year old getting piss drunk with my husband on a Saturday night while skinny dipping in the moonlight.

Although I have been bitching a lot lately I know how blessed I am. I am blessed to have the resources to pursue other options with fertility. I am blessed to have such supportive family and friends. I am blessed to have a roof over my head. I am blessed to have a puppy who snuggles. I am blessed with a job that gives me freedom to do the things I love. I am blessed to have a loving husband. I am blessed to be able to get lost for just a little while in a new adventure…

wanderlust

 

 

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On another note. Since no babies I guess we get more of these ladies. Six more chix.

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