single woman

1 Year

by lisadiane

It was March, 2018. I had just exited yet another long term turned wrong term relationship. And I wanted a baby. Yes, I could have stayed in that wrong term relationship and had all my baby-making dreams come true, but in those dreams this particular relationship didn’t come with a lifetime of happiness for myself, or us. Our hopes and dreams didn’t align*. And neither did our love languages. (The 5 Love Languages is the single most influential book of my life that has helped pave my personal and professional life’s every success. That, and The Secret. Watch it. Power through. The message is important.)

So I got a dog, and called a doctor. The dog was a no-brainer. I missed having that unconditional love only a dog could give, but I also wanted to start reassuring myself that a lifetime of 24/7 commitment was something I still wanted. Could I still travel? And give work 110%? And have a social life? And take my dog with me? The answer was yes. And still is yes. Best decision I’ve made in years. I’m currently sitting at my local Colectivo writing this while my perfect angel baby sits quietly and people watches. Her favorite hobby.

The most amazing dog in the universe, Sushi.

The doctor on the other hand? The doctor was a bigger, scarier commitment. First of all, she was booked out until May. A great thing, because I can be impulsive and too decisive, and this was no puppy. I was terrified. I waited in the cold sterile room for this doctor that I had never met who was in complete control of my destiny to come in. And I practiced in my head what I would say. And in true Lisa fashion, rehearsed what she would say back, and so and so forth until I had manifested the outcome. My inner monologue is a scary place to be. As you know, fantasy is never the same as reality, so what really happened I never saw coming.

Me: (shaking, scared, apprehensive) “I’m thinking about having a baby by myself.”

Her: (ambivalent, amused, nonplussed) “Great! Let’s look at sperm donors! (Pulls up a website on the computer) Look, this guy has a black belt!”

Never in a million years in a million fantasies was the epic decision to have a child by myself so clear. For someone I had just met to respond to me with humor and unconditional trust in my decision was the ultimate sign for me. She then explained how she normally doesn’t talk money with patients, but in this situation, she does. She gave me my two options, IUI and IVF, and explained the difference in procedure and cost. I’ll get into procedure later, but lets just say that IUI is 1/20 the cost of IVF and the only avenue I could afford. The whole appointment was so reassuring and comfortable that I knew what I was going to do. None-the-less, I decided to give myself a year to consider all options and really vet this decision.

Over the course of May 2018-May 2019, I would say my biggest challenge with committing to this decision was the man part. No matter how feminist this decision looked and felt, I desperately desired for my life to become a Rom-Com** and Prince Charming would show up and we would be perfectly aligned in our hopes and dreams and do this thing together. (ie. “The Back Up Plan” with J-Lo. Premise: She gets inseminated, on the way home, meets *the guy* in the cab, they fall in love, he comes to all her appointments with her, becomes the father of the twins (!) and then they “accidentally” get pregnant quickly after the twins with their own DNA sharing child(ren) and life is perfect)

I painfully spent a year realizing my life is about as far away from a Rom-Com movie as possible. My life is entirely more of the “Com” part than the “Rom” part. I had strike out after strike out. In hindsight, most of the stories of my strike outs are fun to tell (my friends tell me). My heart broke a little every time though. Mostly for my future child. Because I do want them to have a present father. But also for me. Because life is more fun when you have someone you can do it with. Life that is. Get your head out of the gutter. Ok, and “that”.

But then, some random day in February of 2019, I finally felt at peace with myself being enough. Because I’m extra. Just kidding (but not really). I did realize that I wasn’t lying to myself when I always told people,

I don’t NEED a man, I WANT a man.

So here I am world! Doing the thing! Alone. And I’m going to tell you the story. Because that’s who I am. And who I will always be. And if I don’t share my story for other people to commiserate with, who will? And frankly, I could use all the support I can get.

Thanks for joining me on my journey,

Lisa

*Hopes and dreams include: a lakehouse, downtown condo, snowbird villa, and much international travel.

**Rom-Com=Romantic Comedy

My Dear Squatty Potty

by lisadiane

It’s time to talk about the Squatty Potty. I don’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable, but, as Taro Gomi says, “Everyone Poops.”

One of my best friends and her husband got a 2-pack from Costco (they are OBSESSED with Costco) They gifted one of them to me, assuring me it was going to be a game changer.  I should add that she was pregnant at the time, and her husband is a big toilet time fan.  I was NOT a fan of pooping.  I know this is TMI, but pooping made me feel empty?  Whatever.

Now, this is the first I’m admitting this (And they don’t know.  Well, now they are going to know.) but I immediately re-gifted the item, horrified to have one in my possession and embarrassed at the thought of someone seeing it in my home. I mean, just bringing it through airport security home to Wisconsin was like a “uh, hell no” for me.  I’m very particular about my decor, and the thought of adding a large plastic “thingy” that has everything to do with pooping just didn’t fit into my furnishings strategy.

So what happened is they came to visit me in Wisconsin from Arizona. I panicked.  You know, it’s one of those gifts where if they don’t see it displayed proudly, they would ask where it is, and be offended that it was missing from the decor.  You know what I’m talking about.  I mean, my friend would always ask me how I pooped, and how happy I was with my poop, and I lied to her, always saying, “Never Better!” We all have those items we pull out before a friend or family member comes over to *proudly* show because it was a gift, and then promptly return to storage when they leave.  It’s the polite thing to do.

So I quickly went to Amazon, knowing I needed to get one ASAP. I started stressing because there are 2 heights to choose from (7 inches or 9 inches if you care), and I don’t remember the height they got me.  I winged it and chose the lower one and it arrived in time for them to see it proudly displayed in my home.

So I used it. I mean, it was sitting there conveniently hugging my bowl.  And I’m going to put this right here so you know how serious I am, but that baby has never left my sight since. If you have come to my home since then and saw it snuggling my toilet base, you better believe I’m not embarrassed that you are embarrassed for me for not “putting it away before the guests came over and saw it”.  I want to talk about it.  I want to tell you about it.  I want to scream it from the rooftop! This ain’t some dirty pair of undies that I need to shove in a corner, this is a proud and permanent part of my life.

I really don’t want to get into too many details.  I really think you should just buy one and know what I’m going to type.  Because I’m a pretty transparent person and if you’ve made it this far reading I’m sure you want some details; I will say I’ve cut down on TP from the clean wipe it provides, and toilet time is cut down dramatically as things work exactly as they should with no delay, pushing, or question of consistency anymore.

So you know how not unusual or life changing this is, please see how a squat toilet works.  No offense to Kohler and their  optimization of the porcelain throne, but I think a built in stool would have made it the ultimate game changer, not that thin useless base.  Unless they are in cahoots with the Gastrointestinal medial industry and share profits from poor poopers.  Or they wanted people to be able to take a nice long time while on the shitter to read magazines and play games on their phones. Cause I get that. (PS, this is a cool article from the History Channel about why they call it a “crapper” and the true inventor of the toilet)

Ok, I put it out there. Just try it, stop making this weird, it’s a thing.

Love,

The Bandwagon Girl

This is my very own toilet set up. Doesn’t it look great there in front of the toilet? Really adds some layers and dimension to the design.

Lasik. Get It.

by lisadiane

If you wear glasses or contacts, put them on or in right this moment and read this.  I’m here to tell you to get Lasik.  It’s an actual miracle.

I know I am about as far behind the bandwagon as you can get on this one, but I chased that sucker down and jumped on.  *Example of how far behind I am; I told a friend that I was getting it done, and she said she got it 20 years ago when they used knives and not lasers.  Now SHE’S an early adapter.

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