34 Weeks

Rose is 34 weeks. If you are still reading, you’re a miracle!

All is well. We survived the most brutal winter of our lives. Still when I turn a corner down a narrow street I expect to be greeted by a wall of snow. Bare sidewalks seem a miracle.

I think so much about this space and how it was my comfort in the world for so long. I wish life requirements did not take me so far away from here. The kids! They are so lovely and challenging and take every drop of our energy, time, love.

We still don’t know the sex. Doula thinks it’s a boy. I’ve always assumed boy as a default, and was shocked when C. was a girl. Rose’s belly is high and hard, but mine was higher and harder when there was a girl in there. I love connecting to the billions of women who have given birth having no idea what was coming!

And are there differences, being on this side of it? Oh, yes. It’s all much more abstract this time. I loved being pregnant, both times I loved it. But along with being grateful that Rose gets to experience this, I’m glad I am not putting my body through it again. I still have not recovered my strength, 18 months after C was born!


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Goodbye, pup.

Rose is 10 weeks, 2 days, and falls asleep every day around 8. She brings the baby up at 7:30 and then she crashes. I take the boy up for teeth, talking, snuggles, and getting out of bed 3 or 4 times, and then I stay up trying to catch up on my shows, or doing stupid internet cruising, or grading papers and projects, and I wake up tired when Rose has already left for work at 7am.

I need my alone time at night, and I’ve got it.

SO CLOSE TO TWELVE WEEKS. Rose of course panics all the time. And I respond by reminding her, “You can’t eat anything at night, you’re so exhausted you fall asleep the second you sit down….I’m not worried.”

A 21 year old’s eggs.

They did it.

And tomorrow…tomorrow I take my Roxy girl to end her life.


I’m a mess. My pup. She’s been with me since spring, 2004, when she was 5 months old. I went with my mom and my ex to a bizarre breeder to pick up a different pup, a younger pup. But I fell in love with her. She didn’t know how to walk on a leash. She zigzagged all over the place. We stopped in the parking lot of a Wendy’s for her first walk, and the car sounds, the lights, terrified her. I lived in a one bedroom in the South End of Boston. She entered the apartment and peed on the floor. My ex and I were having problems. She wouldn’t help me make the decision about which dog to take home, wouldn’t take any ownership over any of it, because she already knew she didn’t want to make a life with me. But she loved me and didn’t want to bail, and so on and on we went, until we didn’t. For a while I lived with Roxy, just me and Roxy. She slept on my bed, kissed me awake in the mornings, dragged me out when I was depressed from the breakup, ordered my days. She was so trusting of other dogs, having lived her first 5 months in a barn with her siblings and parents, and the first time she got tromped in the dog park, she seemed so hurt; then she never played with big dogs again. My mom, who had agreed to “share a dog,” took her when I traveled, which was a lot. My parents’ home was her second home. I left her for 3 months to sail around the world on a ship, where I met my wife. Rose is not a dog person. Things changed. And they changed more when I had G. So much guilt, but she was always MY dog. Then she started dribbling. Last spring. I took her to the vet, there were tests, she had a tumor in her bladder, and yes it was cancer. They gave her six months. I decided I wouldn’t cry until the summer was over. Labor Day weekend – I sobbed nonstop. And now I know things have shifted. She still chases squirrels. She still gives kisses. But she bit my baby’s face – not hard. But it left two raised pink marks on the sides of her nose. And she pees 4 times a walk instead of 1. And she hacks, because the cancer must now be in her lungs. I know it’s time. But I am tortured by this decision, being the one to decide when her life ends. And I will miss her. My sweet pup.


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Our old friend E suggested it was bloggy luck that contributed to Rose’s success. You guys, I really think it was! I still troll the blogs from time to time, but posting has seemed so daunting when we are sososo busy and when Rose’s trying process has just seemed like an endless string of boring news, like “lining not quite thick enough, doubling estrogen,” and “For an average donor egg cycle the prep time is usually 3 weeks but for Rose it is 7. So here we are, still taking estrogen and progesterone!” The course I teach in the fall has a WordPress blog, and when I went to update it for this semester, my old Dragon site popped up. So I posted. Since then, nothing but good news. Thank you for your good energy, my blogclan. It means something, it really does.

Rose has had 2 follow up betas, the last one was 20,000+. She’s exhausted, not hungry, and has a constant headache. She is six weeks one day! Unbelievable! Every day we are still in shock.

As some of you know, one of the reasons I’ve been so occupied is because I had a book come out last year. And then I had ANOTHER book come out, THIS year. In her comment on my last post, Cindy wrote, “i was wondering if you’re a fabulously wealthy and famous author now!” Well, wealthy and famous not so much, but perhaps fabulous? So if you were wondering, of if you just want to be awesome and buy a book, I’ll link to them both here.

It’s been a year, folks. It’s been quite a year.

Click here to read about this book!

And click here to read about this one! (You get to see the front and back cover here)

At the end of TBM, which is a memoir, Our first baby is born. Some of you might remember that time! It’s funny to look back and see how much I processed my career on this blog. Some of you might also remember that I spent over a year wondering if I should ditch the writing thing and go back for my PhD. You weathered my crisis with me. And it worked out in the end.



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Big. Fat. Beta.

Wow, hello friends! I’m so glad to know you are still there!

And I’m glad to announce ROSE’S BIG FAT BETA.

At 9dp5dt Rose’s beta is


Last time she began spotting the night of her beta. It’s been over 24 hours and she’s got a terrible headache, sore all over, and is exhausted.

This is as far as she’s ever gotten. Every time I try to celebrate Rose glances at me nervously. But I think Rose finally did it.


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Yes. Still here. Still going at it!

Hello all,

Not sure if anyone is still coming around these parts, but if so, I wanted to fill you in.

Coco is almost 11 months! What the heck! She is an incredible good natured charming active string bean of a baby. G loves her and she is completely in love with him. G has been going through some awesome oppositional defiance, but he’s still his funny, charming, creative self. He’s starting gymnastics next week and learned how to swim over the summer. He’s no good at catching and throwing balls, but he’s headed for some serious athletics of some sort.

Rose is still trying.

Summary of the past year:

1. Tried with all my leftover embryos. It didn’t work.
2. Tried with donor eggs. First donor only yielded one morula, it didn’t work.
3. Tried with a different donor egg. Transferred one beautiful blast. Rose got her first ever positive pregnancy test. Two days later she lost it. I was in NYC at the time. Probably one of the worst moments of our marriage. We recovered.
4. There were two other “good” blasts frozen from the batch. We hemmed and hawed about putting back one or two. Decided this time to put back just one.


Hi! Anybody there?


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You thought I was gone, did you?

I had my boy, I had my girl, my fertility challenges had been addressed, and then my blog days were over.

But no! I will admit it, it’s been a crazy year. Coco was born in October. I had a book come out in November. I started teaching again in January. We had a whole nanny share fiasco (Shenannygans as our former nanny share family puts it – they moved to London, oh how we miss them!) and have a new nanny for Coco. We moved into a new, hopefully permanent, house. But I have not forgotten you all.


And we have not stopped this not-stopping train, y’all.

We have never taken more than a couple months off from trying to get pregnant since 2009, so why should we stop now?

Rose is in the middle of a donor egg cycle. We are doing the Assured Plan. The drugs are killing her. 

If only I had more than 20 minutes to spare on a regular basis! I am gonna try to catch you up, friends, and in the meantime, if you can make my 3-year-old go to bed at a reasonable hour, I will pay you five hundred million dollars. xoxoxo

Love Ruby


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Hunkered Down

I’m stretched out in bed with the Boppy on my lap, waiting for Coco to wake so we can nurse. Life is good. She’s a sweet little lady.


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