We're not in Kansas anymore

Three Oh It's the Magic Number

2011-01-17T12:13:00.000-08:00

Well everyone here is the story, before I am too senile from sleep deprivation to remember it:)

40+ 2 Thursday, September 16th:
8pm: I start feeling some funny goings on down below. Some "tightening" if you will. I start timing. We're at every 10 minutes. I continue timing contractions all night, because I am getting all crazy with overdue excitement and I have nothing else to do... Like I don't know, SLEEP.
Anyways, I time all night while my husband sleeps peacufully like a cherub on a bed of clouds with a lullaby of harps. In his defense, I didn't tell him about the contractions. I didn't want him to get excited if it wasn't the real deal.

40+3 Friday, September 17th:
By 6am the contractions were coming every 3-5 minutes and were only getting uncomfortable. I called Dr. POC and she told me to go into L&D.
8am we checked in and were at 3cm. We walked the halls and used an exercise ball to get to 4cm around noon.
At 4cm I could still breath and focus through the contractions. This shit is a cinch. I was all swimming it up in the whirlpool. Life is grand.

4pm Dr. POC, that whore crack head monkey loving biatch broke my water. Let's just say things escalated rather quickly. And by "rather quickly" I mean, immediately.
Holy hot damn. The contractions went from manageable, breath, focus to primal shrieks of terror focus on not dying.
I tried nubane for the pain. I have to say ladies, don't waste your time with this crap. Nubane is like being drunk while being run over by a train. One question: Why? Exactly.
An hour later, around 5pm and 7cm, I went for the heavy hitter and got the epidural. Sweet mother Mary it was the best thing on earth. I feel that the creator of the epidural should be nominated for a nobel peace price. I'm just saying. Kick back, put your feet up and just watch the contraction monitor soar. Suckah!
From that point on we hung out in or room with 10-15 friends and family. It was freaking awesome and it made the time go by so fast.

11pm- 10cm Oh yeah, we're having a baby.

40+4 Saturday, September 18th:

2:05am Tyler Ryan was born at 6lbs 14ounces screaming his gorgeous little fool head off. I couldn't believe how small he was for 40+4. And only a minor tear. Road rash, if you will.

I am so in love with this kid, I'm like vomiting love. He is the absolute joy of my life.

My man

2011-01-17T12:04:00.000-08:00

3 1/2 months:

Bliss

2010-11-23T05:27:00.000-08:00

Tyler Ryan - September 18, 2010

6lbs 14ounces, 21 inches long

Then:

and now (actually a couple of weeks ago):

We are absolutely in love. BS to follow...

Queen of the crazies

2010-08-13T09:42:00.000-07:00

What exactly is it about me that attracts the craziest mother fuckers in the state? The baking aisle trash talker was one thing, but sporting a buddah belly has brought it to a whole new level.

During my preggo pics photo session there were a couple of bizarre encounters, which clearly point out what a nice area of town I live in.

We were on the last few pictures when these 2 "gentleman" were walking by and threw out a "Hey, Cutie!" Really? With my husband standing right there? If your dating strategy is to hit on knocked up married women, I think you need to rethink your approach. I'm just sayin'.

Not even 30 seconds after that. This drunk old hobo walked up to up and said in his slurry, hard to decipher, speech: "I juuusssttt want to telllll youuuu, what you're doing here is juuuusssst beeeeaaauuuutiiiful." And then he dropped dead of alcohol poisening. Thanks for the compliment of my life though. He was sweet, even if he wreaked of cheap vodka (which I thought about licking out of the inside of his mouth. It's been 8 months peeps, I could use a cocktail. Don't judge me. I thought better of it though when I saw syringes falling out of his pockets. I'm guessing those aren't for PIO injections? Just sayin.)

And yesterday, I left work at 2:30 to put my feet up. (Dr. POC finally reduced me to 6 hours a day, because of swelling/pitting. Google that shit. I dare you. It will make you fear the reaper) At 7:30 at a ripe 9 months pregnant, I decide to take my sweet girl, Roxy, for a little walk around the block since the weather had cooled down.
I was on the corner of a busier street when I noticed a little 5 pound yapper come running like a bat out of hell from a couple of houses down. The owners apparently didn’t notice that it had gotten away.

Picture this: 9 months pregnant woman, 65 lb boxer, and 5 lb yappy (who is trying to kill Roxy) in the middle of said busy street. Cars coming from both directions, honking. Chaos ensues trying to wrangle my dog and keep yappy from getting run over.

I get everyone out of the street when the owner (2 houses down) finally notices that his dog took off. He calls him, dog runs home. I shout at him that it might be a good idea to put his dog on a leash. He does not come over to see if 9 months pregnant woman that just saved his dogs life is okay.

I walk across the street to catch my breath and continue on the way home when woman owner of the dog decides it would be a good idea to cross the street to tell me that I “don’t have to be so rude about it.”
To which I inform her that I just saved her dog, myself, and my dog from being run over. She tells me to just let him get run over next time, and “kindness goes a long way.”

Right, because I wouldn’t know anything about kindness because I just saved your dog from being road kill. How about, “I’m so sorry, thank you so much for saving my dog, are you okay?”

And then I punched her in the face. And threw her into oncoming traffic. Your welcome lady.

I wish those were all the crazy stories I had for you. But no, there're more.

At work this week we got new computers, so our IT department was in house to help with questions, etc.

Me: (Minding own business, walking to my office)

Creepy IT guy: Excuse me, ma'am?

Me: Mm hm?

Creep: Um, you wouldn't happen to be pregnant would you?

Me: Actually, I was just on my way to the pharmacy to get the morning after pill.

Creep: Well, I had this button made up and I'd like you to have it.

Peeps, the button says on it, FREE HUG.

Really? I think I just got sexually harrassed.

Anyways, I have been officially named the Queen of the Crazies. I take much pride in the honor that has been bestowed upon me. I hope to represent the Crazies with as much flair as possible.

In other news, the bug's room is coming together. Still no name though.

Remind me next time to tell you about the birthing video we watched. I need another therapy session before I'll be ready to talk about it.

It's cool to pee your pants

2010-07-29T10:52:00.000-07:00

33w2d
2 posts in 1 day. What the hell!? I have so much to fill all my internet bff's on that I just can't cram it all into 1 post. Because I suck at blogging. As well as life. So there you have it.

My baby shower was last weekend. Squee! I have to admit, I was adamant about not having one (for so many twisted reasons related to IF and loss). But so many of our family and friends wanted to have one that I finally decided it would be okay. As long as it was small. And not filled with the crazy.

Turns out I was a hot mess of emotions at the turnout of people that came. People that care about us, know how much we've struggled, and are genuinely happy to see us finally turn the page. Ah, I'm getting all choked up all over again!

It was great, it was fun, there was cake. What else can I say? So so so many baby clothes that I actually wake in the middle of the night with an anxiety attack over how many clothes of each size we'll need, and if I should exchange any. Ridiculous. Yes, I know this. Pictures to follow, as soon as I can get my hands on some.

The day before the baby shower was another story all together. I had a half day at work and went home to relax for the rest of the day. Anyways, I was getting my relax on, when there was a gush of fluid. My husband was at the lake for the weekend (hour and a half away). So I call Dr. POC, and got over to her office in a mad dash. 3 cervical tests later (on an already irritable cervix, as she calls it), and it was officially confirmed that yes, I did indeed pee my pants. Lovely.

Fortunately, I did not pee my pants during a fun photo session my friend Joanne, at Minor Moments Photography, did a couple of weeks ago.

Pics from 31 weeks:

Infertiles here, infertiles there, infertiles everywhere

2010-07-29T10:32:00.000-07:00

You know the old term, misery loves company. It's terrible, but I get so excited when I meet another infertile.

It's happened twice at work in the last few weeks. The first was with a coworker I used to work with in another department 5 years ago. She saw that I was KU and mentioned that she had just found out that she was KU as well. I don't know how it came up but she said that they'd been trying for a few years and had to use Clomid to get their BFP. I was all like, Shut the front door! We shared war stories about losses, etc. I left our conversation feeling like I wasn't alone, I'd met another one in the Sisterhood. Warm and fuzzy, bunnies and puppies.

The second exchange was most unexpected. It was with an external partner of my company that I work with on a regular basis. He's called a couple times in the last few months to see how things are going with the bug. In this conversation he was telling me about his 3 year old daughter, his wife's pregnancy, labor, delivery, etc. I made the critical error of asking if they were going to have more children.

His response: It's in God's hands. My response: OH MY GOD! You're an INFERTILE?!
I could tell he clearly wasn't comfortable talking about the specifics of their situation, but suffice it to say that a kinship was formed.

Some win the battle sooner than others. But we've all cried the same tears and felt the same pain.

It's funny, misery does love company. It's comforting know that brothers and sisters have walked this path before us, and there will be many more after us.

Long time no see

2010-07-13T13:19:00.000-07:00

I realize that the amount of my suckage has reached infinite levels. I could say something like: I've been in meetings with the executives at NASA for weeks now and just haven't had a spare second to write a measly post.

Or

Barack called and invited me to spend a few weeks at Camp David with him and the fam. And, well, it's been so long since we've caught up, I couldn't resist.

But the truth is that anything that requires me to put down my spoon of Edy's Slow Churned Double Fudge Brownie for one second is clearly outside of my realm of consideration.

This human growing experiment has it's moments. And by "moments" I mean, back pain, foot pain, swelling, pure sexiness, really. And I don't want to come across all woe is me on you, because I fully appreciate where I am. But, I will say, that I didn't come into this with any expectations, because I never expected to get knocked up. Then when I did, I didn't expect to STAY knocked up. Especially for this long.

Psychoanalysis anyone?

Anyways, here I am.

Picking up from the last post, I had a visit with Dr. POC and she did an FFN (fetal fibronectin), to tell if the spotting might be a sign of pre term labor. It came back negative, and all has been well since then. *knock on wood* *wish on star* *praise to ali babba*

In other news, my husband insists that I am a nesting fool. I, however, contend that I am simply making space for another human being that will be taking up residence in our abode relatively soon, as this babymaker motel for 2 is quickly running out of vacancy.

Simply put, our house is a disaster and we aren't even close to being prepared for this bug's arrival. In any way. Shape or form.

We have not selected a daycare. And we have not made a final decision on what my work situation will look like (PT vs. FT vs. living on the streets).

Also, we have not made any progress on selecting a name. I know, shock and awe.

But we have been enjoying every spare second at our cottage on a lake about an hour from here (because it's been 90 mother flipping degrees up here for the last 2 weeks!!) and blindly hoping that the rest will fall into place. It will, won't it?

AND as a side note (which deserves a post of it's own) I FINALLY put away my fertility meds, and the cadillac. I waited until 31 weeks because I was afraid of being jinxed? Yes. *knock on wood* *wish on star* *praise to ali babba*

Next appointment with Dr. POC is on Friday. I'm desperately trying to think of a good story to get her to put me out of work.

How about, my work gives me seizures? I pass out foaming at the mouth unless working on a situation directly related to babies, or baby making?

I need ideas. I know you've got them.

L&D? Is that like D&B?

2010-06-16T07:59:00.001-07:00

27w1d
The fun times just never end over here in my faux-functional gestation. Over the weekend there was more spotting. End of story. Thanks for playing. Please come again.

I am a broken record with this spotting business. It happened on Saturday, more than I've had in the past. I called Dr. POC to have her paged, but she had another doctor covering for her. I explained to him my whole disfunctional history of unexplained spotting. He told me to get thy ass to L&D to get checked. I, however, did not. I decided to keep an eye on it (which I didn't have any more over the weekend, so I wasn't worried about it).

Monday morning, I called my doctors office to let them know what had happened. Turns out Dr. POC was out Monday & Tuesday. I'll give you one guess what the nurses told me to do... Get they ass to L&D. I called the on call doctor back to let him know I'd decided to go, which was when he informed me that he'd talked it over with Dr. POC and she said not to go unless it had continued or gotten worse. So I didn't.

I'm seeing Dr. POC tomorrow for a regular appointment (and gest. diab. test). Am planning on having a serious discussion with her about all of this.

My main concerns are that the spotting stopped for 2 months, but has now started back up again. Is it going to get worse as the hostage gets bigger? And, if we can't figure out why it's happening, then how are we able to predict what will happen in the future?

In the beginning, I was fine with taking things one day at a time. But at this point, call me a nervous Nelly, but I want a healthy baby.

Why would I expect anything less than a faux functional pregnancy? It's awesome that my "normal" is classified as effed up for people with normal pregnancies.

To make up for the stupid look from last week, this one was taken yesterday at 27w

In other news, my feet have completely disappeared from view. I'm hoping the local kids don't get any cow tipping ideas.

26w1d

2010-06-09T05:03:00.000-07:00

By not so popular demand...

Not sure why I'm giving myself such a bad look. It's probably a look of disgust from the breakfast crumbs all over my face.

Yes, I am sparing you (and myself) a bare belly shot, as my belly button is half in and half out at this point. That's hot.

How I got into p.orn

2010-06-07T11:06:00.000-07:00

It's no secret that the jubley's take a turn for the enormous when one is in my condition. I have always been a fairly endowed girl so I looked forward to the increase in bustline with enthusiasm.

In the beginning, it was fantastic. Tiny little pouch of a belly, big honking bewbies.

But as the belly got bigger, so did the girls. So I went to our old friends at VS this weekend to have these ponies measured.... Let's just say the porn industry is the only place you can find a 32E. I'll be sticking with sports bras, kthanksbye.

I made an off schedule appointment with Dr. Piece of Cake today because I've been feeling generally run down lately, flu like, and lots of pelvic pressure.

At the end of the ultrasound, blood pressure monitoring, temperature taking, oxygen monitoring she told me it was normal pregnancy progression and to get the hell over it. Which I will promptly try to do.

My little hostage is getting bigger and bigger. And the living quarters are getting smaller and smaller. Turns out his head is lodged in my vag, which explains the pelvic pressure and vag pain I've had for the last 4 days. I asked Dr. POC how we could get him out of that position.

Dr. POC: Oh, he'll be out of that position in about 3 months.

Me: Who brought the comedian?

And then I punched her. And cried.

Apparently the preshus little bug is unlikely to move. He will just get bigger... and bigger... and bigger. Fun. I told K to imagine a bowling ball lodged in his rectum. That's right, think about THAT for the rest of the day while you're in meetings at work. Your welcome.

Anyways, I'll continue my quest to "getting over it." Wish me luck.

Here's the story of a man named Brady

2010-05-20T05:37:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, in a land far far away,
there was a man and woman who dreamed for this day.

Years ago they talked about what they would name their future boy.
Never did they imagine their audience would also enjoy
the very same name.

Who knew the mans mother could be so shady?
One week later she came home with a dog, named Brady.

And that is the story of our K's mother stole our name. And now our boy is nameless. Ideas? Suggestions? Anyone want to throw poo in this general vicinity?

Mudder's Day

2010-05-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

I received a very early Mudder's Day gift from my little Mr. Kick Split Kick (Cause I'm 50! 50 years old! Tell me someone remembers that SNL skit?)

It was right around 2:30am. I was in blissful dreamland. Because obviously pregnancy dreams are blissful and dreamlandy. If blissful = the craziest ass shit you've ever dreamt about in your life, then yes.

I was jolted awake out of my Tex.as Chains.aw Massacre dream with a calf cramp that I can only describe as... no I can't. I can't even describe it.

I grabbed K like a hyena on a butterball screaming and flailing in total hysteria.

As utterly ridiculous as that was, the significance of Mudder's Day is not lost on me. I know it's a day that just twists the knife for many. I know the twist of that knife because I've felt it before. And I still feel it.

It seemed like everyone at work, and even some family (who will remain nameless), went out of their way to wish me a Happy 1st Mother's Day. Which is so nice and thoughtful, but it brings back the ache. And I want to say, "This isn't my first Mother's Day!"

But I didn't. Why? Maybe I wanted to avoid the pitiful exchange and the "I'm sorry's". Maybe I didn't want to make people feel bad when they had good intentions. Maybe I couldn't bear to talk about it.

I hate Mother's Day. Because I've been through IF (in a mild way compared to many of you). And I know the hurt that the day can bring. Going through IF, we have the reminder in our hearts every day of what we are or are not. Of what we do or don't have. But on this day, do we really need the world to rub that reminder in our faces too?

Fuck it. I say we rename the day National FMP. (Fuck Me Pumps, for the late comer). And every year, on said day, we treat ourselves to a new pair of FMP.

Let's all get a new pair of shoes, an iced cappucino and be done with it.

Gimme 5

2010-04-28T10:33:00.000-07:00

We've officially hit the halfway mark peeps! Holy hot damn, if the second half goes as fast as the first half I am going to be in a mother load of turd in no time!

I've been able to feel the baby boy move for about a month now, which is so cool, but still so surreal. As the weeks go on the movements are definitely getting stronger, it's still so bizarre to me to connect those movements to a human though. A human that is occupying my abdomen. And movements that are becoming distinctly body parts.

When K got back from Las Vegas a couple of weeks ago I thought for sure the movements would be strong enough for him to feel from the outside. And they were strong enough to feel from the outside, if only K was patient enough to wait for a movement. lol

At 18w5d I sat down and ate a bowl of ice cream to get the bugger moving. K would run in and put his hand on my stomach for all of 20 seconds before giving up. I kept telling him to be patient, to no avail.

Finally, at 18w6d, I was laying flat and he was laying on his side next to me with his forearm resting on my stomach. And then... out of nowhere... a little *punch punch*

Me: ZOMG, Did you feel it?!

K: Yup (sans my level of exuberance)

Me: ... Well what did you think it would be a high 5!?

I think he was probably a bit freaked out by the alien life form taking over his wife's body. Fine with me. I was excited enough for the both of us.

Spread 'em!

2010-04-22T13:13:00.000-07:00

As opposed to popular belief, the world in fact did not stop on 4/19, the day before our BIG ultrasound. I did not, however, get a flipping wink of sleep that night. Literally.

There is no better flavor of crazy than a 5 month pregnant woman about to find out the gender of her spawn with zero hours of sleep under her gigantic maternity belt.

Thank the sweet baby jesus that we had the first appointment of the day. I was blowing through red lights and construction zones like Matthew McConaughey would be there personally to greet me.

When we arrived I tried to get myself together and wipe the foam off the corners of my mouth.

Me: Will we also be seeing Dr. Piece of Cake at this appointment?

Receptionist (who is practically like family at this point): Well, you are only seeing Dr. POC at this appointment. Did you think something else was going to happen?

Me: Don't play with me, honey. I like you and I don't want to wind up standing over you with a pillow in the middle of the night ready to smother every last breath out of you, but I will if I have to.

Rec: Well the ultrasound tech isn't here today.

Me: ...

Rec: Buuuut... there is another u/s tech here today.

Me: ...

Rec: And she doesn't have any appointments.

Me: ...

Rec: Would you like to see her now?

Me: Would I?

And I left her in a cloud of dust as I peeled off down the hall.

We met the new u/s tech.

Me: Yeah, yeah Candace, it's the pleasure of my life meeting you. Now let's get down to business.

And we did. She gooped me up and started looking around. All I could think about was getting between those little legs! She went straight for the money shot... and... the bugs feet were crossed.

You: you've got to be kidding me.

Me: So the cookies and chocolate milk I had for breakfast were for nothing!? (well, not nothing. I'll take any excuse to eat Carmel Delights for breakfast.)

She went on to check everything else she had to check (you know, to make sure the baby is normal and all). But periodically kept coming back for the money shot, but the feet were always crossed.

After about 45 minutes into it she only had the kidneys left to look at and measure, and the money shot.

Me: We're not going anywhere until you tell us if this is a girl bug or a boy bug. I KNOW you don't have any appointments today.

Candy: Oh, how nice of reception to share that with you.

Finally, the bugger uncrossed it's perfect little feet. She put "the business" on the screen and asked what we thought it was... ... ...

Me: OH MY GOD! IT'S A BOY!

And there you have it. The buglet is a boy and we are ecstatic. We did get to see Dr. POC, she said everything looks great. My weight is on the low side of normal (which is just fine with me), but she's not worried about it. Everything else just pales in comparison, doesn't it?

A boy. I can't believe it:)

I'm bringing sexy back

2010-04-13T06:05:00.000-07:00

18 weeks

Why is it that maternity clothes are inherently not sexy? They couldn't BE less attractive. I wear things now that I would never consider wearing on a non pregnant basis. I told myself I would never do that.

But alas, I am a walking hypocrite of polka dots and empire waists.

I have worn polka dots 2 days in a row now, and it's only TUESDAY! I have nothing against the dots, they're just not for me. We'll see if I can't pick up another one tonight and make it a dot trifecta this week. The only thing that can make a polka dot sexy is a Vict.oria's Secret model. For real peeps. And you know it.

I also have nothing against the empire waists. EXCEPT that they never make the boob part big enough. In the pic below, you can't tell (I hope), but my bustline continues a solid two inches below the empire waist band. I'm like muffin topping my boobs.

In other news, I've felt the little buglet move for the last couple of weeks. At first, it was only every couple of days, so I wasn't sure if it was the bug or not. But now I'm sure it is. It's happening about every day, which is cool:)

My honey is in Las Vegas for work this week:( Yes, I also have a "business trip" coming up next week to the Bahamas. Riiiight;) Normally, I like to douse a bottle of white when he is on business trips. It helps me relax, okay, don't judge me. I suppose now I'll be staring at the ceiling all evening. Oh well!

For now, I leave you with an 18 week shot because this post blows Vic.toria's Secret models.

Words that start with F

2010-04-08T12:40:00.001-07:00

17w2d

Omg, I am such a bad blogger. I know this. Dare I say... things have been... quiet?

No, I don't dare say that. At all. It's like turning your back to the ocean. Get ready cause you are about to get ripped by a big one.

That was a far more graphic image than I intended. If you have a dirty mind. Like me.

My days have been filled with constipation. And thinking good thoughts about Number Two. And FIBER. Lots of motherFLIPPING FIBER.

Constipation = straining = spotting. Another delightful image. Not bad though, just like 2 drops, and only when I wipe. And I've been for a gazillion ultrasounds, so we know there's nothing wrong with the bug or his/her uterine playground.

Dr. POC: Drink more water.

Me: If I drink any more water I'm going to drown my baby.

Dr. POC: Eat more fiber.

Me: Not possible unless I add more meals to the day.

Dr. POC: Take stool softener.

Me: Did you just say stool?

So I tried the aforementioned SS because the spotting and constipation was sending me into delirium.

I will not go into another graphic story about poo. But I will give you two words: Soft Serve.

And the SS's were no more.

I am going to try Act.ivia. Has anyone had success with this?

I give you my word (because that is worth so much), my next several posts will not include TMI from the heiny department.

Does this baby make me look fat?

2010-03-23T11:04:00.000-07:00

This weekend we had a tiny peep show of my favorite season... summah! It hit a high of 70! Holy hot martha focker you can bet your sweet ass I was out in my bikini. No shame!

A couple hours later my father in law called and wanted to stop by. I told K to give him fair warning of the bikini situation, but that didn't sway him. Whatever, enter at your own risk!

Anyways, it was freaking fantastic. It's been in the 40's and raining since. Zzzzz...

In other news, we had an appointment with Dr. Piece of Cake yesterday. Everything really is a POC for her. She called me a flaming drag queen because I haven't stopped taking the vagi vitamins yet.

Oops, my bad.

Apparently, "most" patients stop them at 12 weeks.

Obviously I am "most" patients.

I asked her what the odds were that there could be a problem with the placenta not producing progesterone. She said 0%. As in, none.

So last night I did not take one, and I prayed to the gods of Ali Babba all night that my busy little bug wouldn't die.

Our next appointment we'll get to find out the gender, April 20th.

Is it April 20th yet?

And now for the promised bump pic, 15 weeks, sans bikini. I may have been willing to torture my father in law with my cellulite covered self, but I will NOT do that to you my friends.

Unconvictable

2010-03-12T08:58:00.001-08:00

Omg you guys, I finally figured out how to add a ticker to my page. God, I am so smart. And it only took... like... 4 hours and 37 minutes. Wow.

I am not in love with the Lilypie ticker like I am in love with Girl Scout Samoa cookies. So if you've seen a cooler one, please don't hesitate to share.

How can it be that Girl Scout cookie season is upon us just as I start reaching the Terrified of Being a Fatso stage? You see, I've always been a small person, but over the last several weeks I have transformed into quite the heifer. I look similar to what one would look like if they swallowed a hippopotamus. I can't sugar coat the truth peeps, I just can't.

It is this self image that makes me feel like I will go Son of Sam on the next person that says any of the below statements to me.

-"It's okay, you're eating for 2 now!!!" nice way of saying you look like a cow in a tutu.
-"Don't worry, you won't get fat, you'll just look like you swallowed a beach ball." Pressure, anyone?
And... my personal favorite:
-"Oh wow, look at your bump!! I didn't start showing with my first baby until I was 5 months!" The people that say this to me are immediately stabbed in the cornea with a stilleto heel. thankyouverymuch, please come again.

The next person that makes one of these comments to me will find an ice pick lodged in their ear drum. I suffer from progesterone poisening and I will not hesitate to serve up a knuckle sandwich to the mouthy and ill restrained. After all, I'm unconvictable. No jury is going to convict a pregnant woman that is foaming at the mouth, mostly out of pity.

Babycenter.com says I should gain between 25 - 35lbs. If I end up putting on 35lbs, I may throw myself out a window. But according to the babies at The Babycenter.com I am already 1 pound over where I should be at this time to be on track for gaining 35lbs. I feel an anorexia flare up coming on.* Why? Why do they insist on setting me up for failure?

I may post a belly pic soon. Depending on if I can find a foxy cute preggo and leave a trail of Girl Scout cookies to my belly pic lair.

I leave you with a pic of the bug from 12 weeks

*I do not, nor have I ever had anorexia, although I've tried many times to pick it up.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

2010-03-04T13:36:00.000-08:00

One year ago my life fell apart. Today marks the 1 year anniversary of my ectopic pregnancy. It's a day I've watched approach on the calendar for months.

On one hand it seems so long ago, and on the other it feels like an eternity has passed.

I'm generally not one with a great memory, but I remember every excruciating detail of that day. Like it's burned in my mind.

As I was going about my business this morning getting ready for work I kept thinking to myself: exactly one year ago at this minute, I had no idea that my life was about to turn upside down in a matter of hours. But that didn't stop it from happening.

I planned for a long time to take this day off. To spend it by myself. Reliving the day and every gut wrenching detail. To go over my grief journal, which I've never reread. And to look at the pictures, which I've never brought myself to look at.

But as the day grew closer, and I started to feel the intensity of those feelings again, I decided not to. My heart started to feel the hurt of the loss and the trauma of nearly losing my life. I just can't allow myself to go back to that place again. That grief is like a black pit with no guarantee of safe return. Was there ever a safe return?

Yes, the hope of new life does ease the pain of the loss, I can't lie about that. It makes it much more bearable, but I still think about the ep every day. It's a part of me and a part of who I am.

I remember in the days and weeks after it happened wondering if I would ever be the same. I was so afraid because I knew I would be different, but I didn't know how.

One year later I can say that I am different. I am more thankful, more grateful and more appreciative of the ones I love and the world around me. It took me a long time to get here.

I don't know what the future holds for this pregnancy or future ones, but I hope my heart never has to know hurt like that again.

In the meantime, I'm thankful for every day. If that means I don't get another day, than I'm thankful for what I had while I had it. I wont live my life in fear because of loss, grief or IF.

To my precious one, I see your halo shining every day. You're always in my heart. xo

Coming out of the closet

2010-02-26T06:52:00.000-08:00

11w3d
We officially came out of the closet at our works yesterday. I was dreading it because announcement emails are generally so ghey.

It went well though. I sent out this email to my office:

Subject: Letting the cat out of the bag

In case you've been wondering... Banana Republic does not carry a maternity line. I checked.

And chaos unsued. I ended up telling a week before I wanted to, but my gut is getting nearly impossible to hide. A lot of my coworkers confessed that they noticed the bump a week ago. On the plus side, at least they thought I was knocked up and not just getting fat, right?

In the process of telling the office, I found out about a second hand maternity store a couple towns over. I'm going to check it out this weekend because honestly, the selection around here is piss poor.

In other news: the appointment on Monday was great. (I did not have to have an annual exam after all, thankyouverymuch. And much to the contrary of my tendency to exaggerate, I did not smell like shiat all day. I don't think.) We heard the little ticker going strong at 174 bpm's. I looked at Keith and said, Holy shit! I think there's a baby in there!
---

In other, other news: more sad news on the family front. My dad had to put his 9 year old german shepherd, Kane, down last week. Because they haven't been through enough in the last month, right? Kane had stopped eating, lost 15 pounds in a matter of a week and a half. The vet thought it might be Lyme Disease. After a week of antibiotics he was getting worse, and they found out it was cancer. So sad.

I never really expounded on the story of how my dad's stepson passed. Long story short, Elijah had been at a drug rehab center in Montreal, Canada for a couple of months. One morning the Center called my dad's wife and said they were closing their doors in 2 hours. They dropped all the patients off at the airport, with no food and no money. So my dad and his wife drove 15 hours to get him. Elijah overdosed on his first night home.
Anyways, the TV station CBC, in Canada, called The 5th Estate is doing a show on the entire situation. If you're in Canada, check it out. I'm not sure of the exact date yet, but I know it will be in March.

In more sad news (I am really bringing the sad today, right?), my brother in law and sister in law lost their baby at 12 weeks last week. She'd been having a lot of pain around 8 weeks, went in for a scan and everything looked okay. At her 12 week check they noticed the baby had stopped growing at 8 weeks. Her EDD was 9 days before mine. I can't imagine having to watch someone's pregnancy progress where yours should be. It's going to be a sensitive situation, for sure.

Anyways, what a smorgesbourg of a post! Note to self: work on train of thought.

You: Quit it! Me: I can't

2010-02-22T10:17:00.000-08:00

It is the following events that I am not proud of. But I am a believer in full disclosure. You've shared with me the ups, the downs, and now the nasty.

Today was a day that started out like any other. I got to work early this morning, around 7:30am. I made sure to come in early this morning so that I could leave early for an OB appointment at 3:00pm.

I want to interject on my own story to add some critical info... there is no skirting the subject. When you are taking vitamins with whorish amounts of iron there is a tendency to be... well... backed up. This isn't something you don't know. When you have been backed up for days, weeks, months (so it seems) in a row when you feel the urge for a Number Two you must take action, no matter when or where.

Anyways, I'm going about my daily... business (pun intended), when... I feel the urge. I run my ass to the Ladies only to realize... that... I have... not... made it... in time. I sharted myself. At work. One of my finer moments. Obviously.

I don't know if you've ever done this, shart yourself. I get that people do it accidentally now and then. Friends talk about it when they've had too many margarita's and laugh. But I have NEVER done it before today, which is something I've worn as a badge of honor.

Now, still at work, I'm like that one kid in high school that had no friends because he smelled like shit. I could name names, but this isn't the place for that. You know who you are. Sadly, I am now on that list.

And now I have to go commando to Dr. POC's office to have my lady business inspected in an hour. Your welcome, Dr. POC. Because it's times like this you're so glad you went to med school.

Sexy Valentine

2010-02-15T09:46:00.001-08:00

9w6d
It's funny, as IF'ers we're just dying for the double lines. I hallucinated the double line on more than one occasion. Actually, I think I have hallucinated the last 9 weeks. Anyhow, once we get that coveted BFP it's all smooth sailing from there, right? Wrong. It's like Mother Nature will take any opportunity possible to kick us in the crotch over and over. Ad nauseum.

I received a swift kick in the crotch from Mother Nature on Thursday (9w2d). When Mother Nature gently reminded me who the puppeteer was and that I'd better play by her rules. One word sentence: Spotting. Is unacceptable. Creates fear, panic, and general spazmosis.

It was a very small amount. And I did not freak out (I swearz!). I very rationally and in my right mind called my doctor: "AH HALP!!" She told me to leave work for the day and come in the next day for an ultrasound. This is a recipe for one long night filled with tears and inconsolable wife.

The next morning we went in and found out the little bug was carrying on fantastically. We even got to see her/him move! Like a little penguin dance. Obviously baby has husbands rythm... ahem. Heart rate is up to 180.

Super effing fantastic, right? Right-ish.

Dr. Piece of Cake: You have placenta previa.

Me: Is that a designer bag or something?

Dr. POC: No.

She's not super worried about it (for now). She said it is the culprit for the spotting, which may or may not continue depending if the placenta moves or not in the next couple of weeks. She said most move by 20 weeks, so she doesn't anticipate a problem, but she is going to keep an eye on it.

She said it's most likely from my super fun surgeries last year. Yay. She wanted me to have a Rhogam injection just in case. You see, I haz de negative blood type while my honey haz de positive= even more fun than you already thought we were having (said while smacking myself over the head with a blunt object).

Until and if the placenta moves it's no hokey pokey between the sheets for me and my Valentine. No funny business for 7 days from the last day of spotting. How very romantic.

Just in case you want to smack yourself in the face with a placenta by now... here is an updated pic. It's amazing how it went from a shrimp, to looking more human in just a matter of days. Two arms and one leg, I am hoping there is another leg in there somewhere;o) no worries, the second leg was spotted on the US.

Cocktail sauce anyone?

2010-02-08T13:45:00.000-08:00

It appears as if I am growing seafood. I'll bring the shrimp cocktail to the next girls night out.

We're up, we're down, we're all over the board. Our initial due date was 9/14, then they moved it up to 9/20, now today it's back to 9/17. They've changed it so many times, I'm SO confused! She said, "Oh yes, our dates are plus or minus 5 days." Oh, okay. bah!

Today the bug is measuring at 8w6d, heart rate ticking away at 174 bpms:).

I'm getting closer and closer to being able to stop taking the vagi vitamins, aka Prometrium. I'm not going to lie, I'm a little nervous about this. What if my body/placenta isn't producing progesterone on it's own? What if aliens take over the earth? What if Baby Gap stops carrying the preshus lady bug girl clothes before I find out if the bug is a girl or a transvestite drag queen lady bug dressing boy? Because my body has functioned so perfectly up until this point, right?

I'd love to know if any of you have been through the vagi vitamin detox, or know any one that has. Am I worrying for nothing? Or should I be worrying?

My vagina the slot machine

2010-02-02T06:10:00.000-08:00

I've always heard pregnant women complain about how tired and nauseous they are. Wah, wah, wah, right? Cry me an effing river.

And although I feel I may be hallucinating this entire gestational state, I can tell you that I have been asleep for, roughly, 3 1/2 of the last 4 weeks. My bewbies have reached pornographic proportions, which K isn't complaining about. If only I could stay awake beyond 7:30pm. The conscious portion of my existance has been spent in a state of perpetual seasickness. Don't even mention the word c.a.r.r.o.t. Got dry heaves?

That being said, I feel like a million bucks (when I am conscious, that is). Our appointment on Friday morning went great. We saw the little bug's heartbeat flickering away at 134 bpm. By far, the coolest thing I have seen in.my.life.period.

She pushed up my EDD to September 20th, which pushed me back to 7w1d today.

After we saw the heartbeat we decided to tell some of our extended family, which was fun. I think I am still going to wait quite a while before telling my work and casual friends.

I am still taking promtetrium, which also does wonders for our love life. Vagi vitamin = no horizontal tango. So it's either before the vagi vitamin (at 7:30pm) or not at all. It'll get better at some point, right? (who am I kidding?)

Between the vagi vitamin and the oral vitamins C.V.S ass raped me for $150. A small price to pay for maintaining this gestational hallucination, but I feel I may be better off inserting dollar bills into my vag. And If I hit the jackpot I may just deliver a real live baby in about 7 months.

Internets, how have you been doing? Let me know if you have any insight on how I may stave off the nausea. Or how I can manage to keep vertical while at work from 8-4:30?

I've crushed my luck

2010-01-21T11:01:00.000-08:00

You hear sports players talk a lot about luck. Not cutting their hair or beard during playoff season, not washing their jersey's. You get the idea. Maybe you were into sports one day and adhered to those same supersticions.

Going through IF, I think a lot of us cling to luck and supersticions as well. Unicorns, rainbows, rabbits foot, ladybugs, they're all good luck.

I have taken my luck and single footedly smashed it. Literally. My sweet little ladybug that I have seen every day in my bathroom since New Years is no longer with us. I'm thinking about not shaving my beard and wearing the same oatmeal colored turtleneck for the remainder of this pregnancy to try to ramp my luck back up to an acceptable level.

6w3d

Things have been going well. I continue to pinch myself daily and wonder when I will wake up from this pregnancy hallucination. I haven't really had many symptoms either (except sore bewbies), to look to for reassurance.

We did, however, today get to see the little bug. It's measuring spot on 6 weeks and 3 days. We got to see the gestational sac, yolk sac and the bug. Neither of us cried, I think we were in so much shock that it wasn't a shark or something swimming around in there.

We didn't get to try to look for a heartbeat today, which was disappointing. But the bright side of that is that we get to go back next Friday for a repeat ultrasound to check for it then. For whatever reason the u/s tech felt bad about us having to come back next week. Wah?

Oh, you want me to sit here for another 20 minutes next week to look at this precious bug we've been trying to create for over 3 years? Please, tell me when the torture treatment is over.

Give me a break lady, I could sit on your table with the vagi cam all day! Mkay?

-----
In other news, my Dad's stepson has passed. After 5 days on life support they decided to take him off the machines. It's total devastation. It really is. I know many of you know what intense grief is like, I just wish no one ever had to go through it. It's heartbreaking. It's going to be a long road for them.

----

Any advice on how to get my luck back? The dead ladybug is still sitting on the bathroom floor. Like I expect it to be resurrected or something.

The tribe has spoken

2010-01-11T11:19:00.000-08:00

HCG numbers today... well over 500:o) Our risk of another ectopic at this point is very minimal. We are having an ultrasound on the 21st at 9:30am just to rule it out (and hear the heartbeat!). Looks like now the bug is measuring 5 weeks, but that will be fine tuned after the first few ultrasounds. We are over the moon excited. I still just can't even believe it!

In other news... why is it that great news always comes on the back of tragedy? On Saturday my father's step son overdosed on heroine. His wife actually found him dead in his bed. The emergency room got his heart going again, but he is on a ventilator. There is no brain activity. They are doing another brain scan tomorrow, if there is no activity again they will have to think about taking him off the machines. Just utterly devastating for my father and his wife. It's just unimagineable. No parent should ever have to find their child like that. My heart is just broken for them. We are still holding on to faith and praying for a miracle.

In both situations we just continue to be thankful for every day. Even if we only get one more day, we are thankful for it. I am thankful for all of you, beyond words. I can't wait to hear when you have good news. Until then, I'll be waiting and supporting.

The bug

2010-01-07T09:12:00.000-08:00

As of today the bug is measuring 4 weeks:)

When I had the original blood work done on Tuesday the levels were 14. My doctor thought they were on the low side.

I had follow up blood work done this morning to ensure my hcg levels are doubling normally.

I'm happy to say that the numbers have more than doubled. They've gone up to 65:)

We're not out of the woods yet. I'm having another blood draw on Monday. If those come back normal we'll be looking good. She said I'd have an ultrasound at 6 weeks to completely rule out another ectopic.

I'm starting to allow myself to get a bit excited. At this point with the ectopic I was having bad bleeding and cramps. So far this time I haven't had any of either *knock on wood*

Thanks for the well wishes:) I wish I could bottle up my good luck lady bug and send it to each of you!

Infested

2010-01-06T12:18:00.000-08:00

What better way to start the new year than being infested with bugs? Not the bugs that might infest your Lady Curtains, thankyouverymuch, but insects. That fly, crawl, and are generally creepy.

My husband also noticed the insect one day, I begged and pleaded with him to leave it alone.

Under normal circumstances I am the first to smoosh a creepy crawly in the house. But this bug was different.

It was New Years day... and it was... a ladybug.

Now, if you are as supersticious as I am, killing a ladybug on New Years Day would be the equivalent of taking your 2010 karma and slapping the Dalai Lama in the face with it.

So the ladybug was left in her peace. Each day since New Years when I get out of the shower I have seen the bug on the wall in our bathroom. (Yes, I bathe daily, filthy whores. Sometimes I even shave too).

After years of ttc and a failed Clomid month I found out this morning from Dr. POC that I am infested with another bug. One that will hopefully be around for another 9 months. My levels are being checked again tomorrow and every couple of days after that to rule out another ectopic. But for now, we're cautiously optimistic and enjoying each day as the precious gift it is.

The ladybug has been in the house for 6 days now. I'm thinking about catching it to keep as a pet. What do lady bugs eat, I wonder?

Definitions

2009-12-31T18:10:00.000-08:00

My top 5 resolutions (yes, there are more, less appropriate for the interwebs)::
1. Start smoking. I figure I need to ramp up to 4 packs per day to catch up to family and friends.
2. Swear more. Because there's nothing like telling your boss you need an effing raise to buy more coach bags and manolo blahniks.
3. Buy more fur. Who does PITA think they are anyways?
4. Spend more. Nothing says recession like coach bags and manolo blahniks.
5. Make an effort to stop exercising. Because 10 pounds on clomid, progesterone, and trigger injections is just never enough.

In the final hours of 2009 I'm left reflecting on the year, as many of you are. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

The ugly...

Tiger woods. Nuff said.
Octomom... Need I say more?
Kanye... Douche bag.
Failing 2nd cycle of clomid. (100mg was a bust)

The bad...

By far the fullest category this year. I would sooner have a lifelong case of pink eye before reliving 2009.

The heartbreak is as fresh today as it was 10 months ago. I know many of you know the heaviness of carrying a broken heart on a daily basis. I hope that 2010 brings a way for us to be at peace on many different levels.

The good...

It's a double edged sword for me to even think about any good that may have come out of the hurt we've felt this year. I think it's a readiness thing, and I'm just not there yet.

Definitions...

When I think back on this year the loss is the only thing I can think of. It's a defining life event. My life is becoming defined with the loss and infertility. I struggle with feeling connected to the loss through my ongoing hurt and making this defining piece of my life a positive.

I'm not sure how, but my goal for 2010 is to figure out what I can do to have a positive impact on others because of my life experiences.

I'm not saying I'm going to move to a 3rd world country and start going by Mother Kansas, but I'm not going to allow negativity to define me any longer.

What defines you for 2009? What's the good, the bad, and the ugly of you year?

I'm thinking of you all tonight and the things you've been through this year. I hope you all are enjoying some r&r over the holiday weekend.

I look forward to seeing where 2010 takes us.

Birth days

2009-12-17T14:01:00.001-08:00

Friends, the day of my birth was yesterday. Someone tell me please when the numbers start going in reverse... .... ... anyone? ...

Flo, at the DMV, kindly reminded me that the weight number never goes down either... thanks Flo. At least she's honest, right? Yes, she is an honest 65 year old woman with her tires slashed. Happy holidays Flo!

Let's be frank, getting older blows for many reasons. I know, you just blacked out from shock, right? I'll give you a minute if you need to get some paxil for the ingenuity of my most recent revelation.... Bring some back for me too...

There isn't really any stellar news to report this week. We've upped the Clomid to 100mg. 5 Follicles made, but on Day 14 they are still not ready to be triggered with an injection. WTF, right?

If I had a biography it would be titled "WTF." Because I love WTF, OMG, BFF. And, why not?

Double the clomid is double the fun. Because half the hot flashes is just never enough.

It was a whopping 18 degrees here in the northeast this morning as I was on my way in for the bazillionth vagi cam appointment this week, and having the hotflash of a lifetime. I rode all the way there with the sunroof open. No jacket. I shit you not. I can't wait to up the dose to 150mg next month.

If I can get this hotflash to last for another 4 months, this winter may not be so bad.

Clomid: Chaos, migraines & hot flashes predominate - my work here is done.

Me: whore.

This is the priceless information that would go in my book.

Holiday Cheer Hijacker

2009-12-07T12:40:00.000-08:00

Internets, it’s a BFN. I know, shock and awe… blah blah blah How can I be filled with The Christmas Cheer and not full of The Rage? The Hysteria? How can I not be telling people off in the grocery store in fits of crazy?

How can I be decking the halls with boughs of freaking holly when my ovaries have staged a walk out?

I’ll tell you friends…

It’s called, How to Turn a Sweet Christmas Miracle, into, Selfish Scheme to Give Kansas the Warm and Fuzzies. Because let me tell you… I am not about the warm and I am not about the fuzzy.

We’ve “adopted” a child from our local foster program to buy Christmas gifts for. His name is Sean and he’s 3 years old. When I got Sean’s Christmas list all it had on it was Lego’s. Cue the tears, and not the It’s A Wonderful Life, kind. Picture Marley & Me type hysteria.

Now, before you go soft on me, remember the scheme.

This is not about a child who might otherwise give up on his belief of Santa. Or learn about the cruelty of the world at much too young of an age. It is also not about his exhilaration on Christmas morning waking up to every type of Lego product available in the US. It’s not about the smile on his face, or the hope in his heart.

Okay? So get those dirty images out of your head. This is about me. And contrary to popular opinion, being hopped up on hormones does not give me the warm or the fuzzy. Unless you mean The Warm in a hot flash kind of way, and The Fuzzy in a blistering migraine kind of way. I just want to be clear.

In case you’re still following in a Christmas Shoes kind of way let me reiterate the selfish nature of this mission.

By doing this, seemingly selfless act, I am filling myself with the warm and the fuzzy (the non hormone flavor), thus easing the blow of the most recent flurry of bad news.

So, the next time you get 5 inches of snow in the beginning of December (or a BFN for the gazillionth time in a row, but who’s counting) and you feel like rapid firing 3 dozen sugar cookies up Kris Kringle’s jolly red ass, do something selfish, get some warm and get some fuzzy.

The secret

2009-12-02T09:28:00.000-08:00

Omg, quick somebody ask me what CD I'm on!!! ...because I have no idea! How can this be that every second of my life has not been devoted to CD's, minutes, seconds? Don't get me wrong, I still know the first day I can do an hpt.... (One week from today, ahem).... I guess it's because I have no hope, er... expectations for this month.

Note to reproductive self: like a knocked up high school drop out, you have screwed up so many times that I have ceased having any realistic expectations from you. You will not go to college and you will not marry your baby daddy.

So, there it is. The secret to mental bliss during the fight against if. Better yet, the secret to mental bliss during the 2WW. Try it out, maybe it'll work for you.

Okay, the truth is... I went in on CD11 for a follie check. There were 2 jumbo sized, ready to rock. Super.omg.getout. Much excitement over this cuz #1 the clomid worked, holy crickee. #2 it before day 20 (my "normal" ov day). #3 there were 2! Joy and joyness a Christmas miracle, double the chances!
That was a thurs, Dr. Poc said I'd ov that weekend...

That weekend came and went... No positive opk. For realz. Visualize balloon losing air.

On the Monday following I went in for blood work and did the trigger injection. This put ov to day 17. Less than stellar, but still acceptable.

Now... What day are we on? Who knows, who cares. I have a feeling it didn't work. That my hopped up on hormones self, hot flashes, and migraines were all for nothing. What's the plan for next month? I haven't the foggiest. Don't know, don't care.

Oh, and also, the onslaught of December has made me realize that I have ovulated a whopping grant total of 2 times all year.

Tell me, have you been through a Who Gives a Crap phase? And, how long can I look forward to it? Cause I am not minding the view from here.

Note: I do not think HS KU drop outs are worthless. If you are one, or are a recovering HS KU know that you are very worth-ful(?)... Example used for illustrative purposes only. Please don't send me hate mail. Kthxbye

Public Service Announcement

2009-11-15T06:15:00.000-08:00

WANTED
PREDICTABILITY

Predictability has been on the run in the Northeast US for approximately 15 years. Several attempts have been made to apprehend Predictability, including: BCP's, various hormone cocktails, and several hidden vagi-cam investigations. Current efforts include 50mg Clomid Days 5-9. Predictability has managed to allude all our efforts to date. If you have seen, or may know where Predictability may be hiding, you are urged to call our annonymous tip line.

Memoirs of a vagi-cam

2009-11-11T17:13:00.000-08:00

I casually made the suggestion to my vagi-tech that it may be time for me to invest in my very own vagi-cam. She said that would run me an easy 300k. An ice breaker. As if I need one with this woman, she's seen my vag more times than my wax lady at this point (mostly because, oh yeah, I don't have a wax lady).

She leads me into the room, tells me I know what to do. I agree that yes, I do know what to do, but... Today is Day 3... She says, "not to worry, it's just the same, except you'll want to take your tampon out." Right, because I don't want it to become a nose plug.

You guys were right it was nothing at all. Nothing to even give a second thought. Clomid starts Friday and goes through tuesday, days 5-9. Oh, and my fun cyst has doubled in size. Clomid should be like a nice jolt of steroids for it. Fun! Next vagi-cam: 1 week.

This is how we do it

2009-11-10T07:39:00.000-08:00

Friends, I am not going to dance around the uncomfortable nature of the question I need to ask. It’s not my style, plus, I think we’re beyond the sugar-coating.

I have a Day 3 vagi-ultrasound tomorrow. transvaginal, if you want to be grown up about it, which I don’t. Basically because I think “vagi” before anything makes it most hilarious. i.e. vagi-vitamin (aka progesterone), vagi-wipey (aka personal cleanliness products), you get the idea.

I am not a stranger to the vagi-ultrasound. On a scale of 1-10, vagi-modesty is easily at a 1. After so many miles on the IF highway, vagi-caution is thrown to the wind.

I have more concern over the Day 3 aspect of the appointment. You see, I’m worried that Day 3 will be the most ickticious day of my days.

The only time I have been… ahem… examined during this time was when I found out about the EP. They gave me vagi-wipey’s (see above) but it was a hot mess. I know these people are professionals and they deal with it all the time. Right? I mean, don’t they?

Internet bff’s, please tell me you’ve been there/done that and it’s not half as bad as I’m making it out to be. Please!!!

That's what she said

2009-10-29T10:53:00.001-07:00

No news is good news, right? Wrong! How is it that statement can be true everywhere but the IF community? Bunch of dysfunctional rejects that we are.

To boil it down to one sentence, I never got my period last week, as Dr. Piece of Cake thought I would. How did I know an appointment with the magical vagi wand would be in my future? Call it intuition. I went in this morning.

She called a little while ago to say that the “spot” on the ultrasound is still there. And my blood work shows I should be mid cycle. Impressive, for someone on CD21.

I’m supposed to call her on Nov. 9th, or on CD 1, which ever comes first. She also wants me to call if anything weird starts going on.

Me: “Weird? How exactly would you define “weird” at this point?”

Dr. POC: “Abdominal pain, etc.”

Me: “Oh, you mean the abdominal pain that I’ve been having for the last 2 weeks? The slip n’ slide CM I’ve had for the last 5 days? Or the toss my cookies onto a plate of cookies nausea I’ve had for the last two days?

Dr. POC: “Yes, but I can’t find any specific reason for those symptoms in your blood work or ultrasound. They must be coincidence.”

Me: “Right.”

I am a marvel of modern medicine. I should be encased in the Smithsonian and labeled as “Inexplicable, Unpredictable, Unreliable Bodily Functions.”

Let me ask you this: how does one’s body become so effed up in the first place?

This is a joke. Except I’m the only one laughing, the crazy person laugh.

The thought of seeing another doctor is not one that has escaped me. I worry about seeing another doctor though for insurance purposes. Dr. POC submits my insurance paperwork as “ovarian dysfunction,” which my insurance company is happy to write the checks for. 12 visits per month? No problem!

Should I go to a new doctor, go through the gamut of testing all over again, and they code my paperwork as “lame assed infertile,” my insurance company will tell me to turn around and grab my ankles. Is there an option for lube? I doubt it.

The next doctor we see will be an RE, which will be when we win the lottery. In the meantime, I’ll stick with weird.

My middle name is false alarm

2009-10-21T11:38:00.000-07:00

Would you like the Classic mind fuck? Or the Down & Dirty version?

I called Dr. POC on Friday to let her know I hadn't been feeling well for quite a few days. She didn't think it had anything to do with the last injection. We chaulked it up to bad Chinese Food, knowing that I had a follicle check scheduled for today, if there were any issues, she'd find it then.

After the ultrasound, I wait in the waiting room where there are 13 parenting magazines, and 1 Us Weekly. From said waiting room I can hear Dr. POC discussing with the ultrasound tech and the bloodwork girl. I hear one of them on the phone spelling my last name. I hear Dr. POC talking about blood type, rhogram (sp) shot, etc. etc. etc. I start flipping the hell out. Dr. POC calls me back and shows me ultrasound pics of what she thinks is a pregnancy, in the correct place. I ask her if she is tripping the hell out because I had my period 13 days ago. A normal one. And I haven't been taking my vagi vitamins, and I've been having bad right side pain. She assures me it is not another ectopic. They're going to draw blood, tests, tests, tests...

Two hours later I'm lying on my couch, letting my vagi vitamin digest, when Dr. POC calls. Uhm, yeah, remember when I said you were KU? Uhm, sorry for the confusion, but you're not.

The consolation prize? She's not 100% sure, but she thinks it could be either a collapsed cyst or a chemical pregnancy.

She wants us to skip trying this month. My blood work looks like I'm going to get my period again any day now anyways. When I get my period again she wants me to call and schedule another ultrasound to confirm whatever the hell is going on in there is resolved. Super. We'll throw the trigger injections into a meat grinder and go with clomid next cycle. More "predictability."

I'll give you something to predict. It's called my freaking nervous breakdown.

Now, to more important decisions... which crib set to pick out for my cyst? The Madison or the Gabriel?

Bad Chinese? Really? Cause I think I can tell the difference.

At this point, if I don't land in the hospital before the end of the year I'll consider it a great success (in by best Borat impression)!!!

Over the top

2009-10-19T14:12:00.000-07:00

Big thanks to AnxiousMummyto3 for the award:) Her blog is one of my favorites. Her writing is fluid and powerful. I savor each post with a deep hunger because I can identify with her so well. AnxiousMummyto3, thank you for writing with such a relatable honestly.

Here are the rules:
1. you can only use one word!
2. pass this along to 6 of your favorite bloggers
3. alert them that you have given them this award
4. have fun!

The Fun Part:
1. Where is your cell phone? charging
2. Your hair? mess
3. your mother? honest
4. Your father? handy
5. Your favorite food? fries
6. Your dream last night? work
7. Your favorite drink? cosmopolitan
8. Your dream/goal? BABY
9. What room are you in? study
10. Your hobby? yoga
11. Your fear? control
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? here
13. Where were you last night? home
14. something that you aren't? quiet
15. Muffins? blueberry
16. Wish list item? nada
17. Where did you grow up? northeast
18. Last thing you did? changed
19. What are you wearing? comfies
20. Your TV? asleep
Your pets? woof
Friends? fantastic
23. Your life? wonderful
24. Your mood? eh
25. Missing someone? k
26. Vehicle? jeep
27. Something you're not wearing? tiara
28. Your favorite store? banana
29. Your favorite color? pink
30. When was the last time you laughed? afternoon
31. Last time you cried? yesterday
32. Your best friend? bw
33. One place that I go to over and over? fridge
34. One person who emails me regularly? k
35. Favorite place to eat? whereever

I would have been due yesterday. There is just no other way to put it than directly. If I had stayed pregnant and if I had a healthy pregnancy... that coinciding with pregnancy and infant loss awareness month has been why the mood has been heavier in Kansas lately. I had originally written a post about my dead baby issues, but decided not to post it. For now.

It's a winding road. Grief. You just never know where it's going to take you. You're moving along just fine. But then you see something or hear something that brings back the new car smell. It's not as easy as asking for directions and getting back on track. Sometimes you just go around in circles, unsure of how to resume the journey. You take steps, even when you're sure you cannot possibly take another. Even when it would be easier to admit defeat and quit.

Baby steps. I hated the term when I was in the hospital, and even now. The irony drives the burning even deeper. I'm making small steps out of the dark and stormies, back to version Kansas Lite, I'm just not sure when I'll make it. I'll let you know when I get there.

Now... for the moment we've all been waiting for... (((drumroll)))

I'm passing the Over the Top award on to:
1. Maybe if you just relax
2. The Winding Road to Parenthood
3. Life and Love in the Petri Dish
4. I'm a Smart One
5. Take it One Gigantic Earth Shattering Crisis at a Time
6. If it's not one thing, it's your mother

I am a wing away from being a wing nut

2009-10-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

You know it’s unseasonably cold when you’re at work and the fire alarm goes off and you think, there is no way in hellz I am vacating this premises for a drill. It’s 46 degrees out today. It’s cold, even for us in the northeast, for October.

It was even colder this morning at 6:30am. Roughly 32 degrees. Imagine me, in my pajama’s, un-brushed teeth, bra-less, without my glasses, running around my neighborhood like a crazy person.

If you’re thinking I was sleepwalking, which would be very likely for me… As I have a pathological history of sleep walking and talking. We were on a cruise this past February when I ran out of our room into the hallways of the ship because I had a dream the ship was taking on water. I was well into the hallway before I woke up. I wish it weren’t true, okay. Don’t judge me.

So if you’re thinking that’s what’s happening here, you’re on the right track, but wrong train.

I got up this morning, like I do every morning, and let my dogs out. After I let the dogs out I feed the cats, fill up the dogs bowls, give everyone water, go pee, then let the dogs back in. 10 minute process, give or take.

This morning, though, I went to let the dogs back in and only Benson was standing there…

I let him in, called for Roxy, and went to do something else while she wrapped it up.

A few minutes later I went back, and she still wasn’t there…. Open the door, call her… nothing… Step outside… See the fence gate swinging wide open.

Now you have an accurate picture of me, in my pj’s, un-brushed teeth, bra-less, without my glasses, running around my neighborhood like a crazy person.

K was still in bed. I didn’t want to take the time to go back into the house to get him when she’d been out for nearly 10 minutes.

I didn’t know which direction to go. I started to panic. Hyperventilate. Anxiety attack. Tears. I’m imagining the worst. I’m imagining that I’ll never get to see my smoochy girl again and I get even more hysterical.

I see that my neighbors garage is open. I go over there thinking maybe she went in there. No luck. I turn around to go home and get K when I see my little miss come strolling up the road...

I carried all 62lbs of her home. And hugged her on the kitchen floor for 20 minutes.

It makes me realize how co-dependant I am on her. I’m conveying human emotion and need for a child onto my dog, I know it’s not healthy, but it’s the phase I’m at.

Since the loss, I have put my displaced feelings of hurt and failure into feelings of love and nurture for her. It’s a big task for a little girl to carry, but she does it well. It’s like she knows how much I need her.

If anything happened to her I would just fall apart. Plain and simple. She’s getting micro chipped on Saturday. And the fence is being fixed.

How about you? What are you co-dependant on?

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness

2009-10-15T10:08:00.000-07:00

I want to take a moment to acknowledge Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day. And recognize each of you that have been through a pregnancy or infant loss. I know how hard it is. And I know that even though there is an “awareness” day that people who have not been through it would prefer to be unaware (with the exception of the IF community;o).

Did you know that JFK and Jackie suffered multiple losses? Jackie had a miscarriage in 1955, and a still birth in 1956. In 1963 their son, Patrick, was born 5 weeks premature and passed away when he was 39 days old due to complications. He passed just a couple of months before the assassination. I can’t imagine the hurt that Jackie must have felt.

For those that have experienced a loss, my thoughts are with you today. Know that I know your pain. I know that you learn how to be functional again in the wake of a loss, but the true raw ache never really goes away.

If you want to take a moment to remember a loss, please feel free to do so here. No emotion is off limits here, ever.

Warning: Flagrant Profanity

2009-10-08T11:23:00.000-07:00

There is always some sick and twisted son of a bitch flaunting it in my face! I work in sales for a fortune 500 insurance company. I received an email today sent to my office and a neighboring office with the following message...

CONGRATULATIONS TO
CHRIS AND HIS WIFE, BECKY
NUMBER 5 ON THE WAY!!!

Really? There is a dumbass that exists that thought this email would be appropriate to send to 75 people in a professional setting? Why stop with our 2 offices, why not send it to the entire goddamn company? Because jesus christ, we are all just beaming with joy for Chris, Becky, and Cinco.
And why wouldn't we be gloriously happy for Chris, Becky, and Cinco? They have been blessed with the fertility of bunnies and I am just a cranky infertile. So please, continue sending out the most ghey images of sparkling teddy bears, and don't mind me while I go out on Mental & Nervous claim.

I just threw up in my mouth.

My response: Please remove me from your distribution list, you fucking retard.

Crazy is as crazy does

2009-10-02T08:34:00.000-07:00

Things I google at work for which one day I will be fired:

Difference between progesterone cream, patches and suppositories
-because contrary to popular opinion, no I do not love shoving pea sized vagi-vitamins into my lady business, all the while trying not to poke myself in the ass with my other fingers. Tasty image, right?

Can progesterone suppositories cause constipation?
-because there’s nothing better than being bound up while on vagi-vitamins. Come to think if it… if I did “accidentally” poke myself in the ass it might get things moving in the bum department. Although, I am absolutely unwilling to experiment with this method.

Are stool softeners safe to take during pregnancy?
-because I am one of those dumb hopefuls that thinks she might… just might… be preggo every single 2WW. Although, I never am.

This brings to mind the definition of insanity. Repeating the same action and expecting a different result. This makes me, by definition, insane. As if I didn’t know this before, but I need Webster to point it out to me before I can commit to swallowing it whole.

We try month after month after month… expecting a different result.

We experience heartbreak month after month after month… expecting a different result.

We spend hundreds in treatments month after month after month… expecting a different result.

We have ultrasounds, injections and blood tests month after month after month… expecting a different result.

We search online for baby furniture month after month after month… expecting a different result.

We are disappointed month after month after month… expecting a different result.

Are we really crazy? Are we gluttons for hurt and disappointment? Why do we expect a different result when the past has been so reliable?

Bud Light Presents: Mr. Baking Aisle Trash Talker

2009-09-22T07:38:00.000-07:00

Lately my blog material has been downright non existent. I’ve been thinking that I’ve been stuck in a funk and unable to see the world through my hilarious rose colored glasses. Things that would normally strike me as funny and blog worthy have come and gone without so much as a flinch.

I don’t know if it has to do with the 6 month anniversary of the loss, another failed month, or the false hope that was built up last month. Whatever the reason, maybe a combination of the three, I don’t think it matters.

I think there is light at the end of the tunnel. I believe the fog is lifting. Maybe we are making forward motion. Just maybe.

Yesterday I went to the grocery store by my work to pick up a few things for dinner (holy hot mother of god best shepherds pie recipe eva).

I hate going to this grocery store because it’s not my regular. I don’t know where anything is. It’s a 45 minute ordeal to try to find cheese and gravy (both delicious ingredients to my wanna smack myself good shepherds pie).

Visualize this:

I am coming out of the baking aisle, as another gentleman is coming into the baking aisle. In an effort not to do the right/left, left/right dance, I stop to allow him to go around me, right? I smile, and say, “I’m sorry, excuse me.”

After he walks by me I hear, “Excuse YOU!”

At this point I can’t believe what I’ve just heard and am nearly pissing my pants with laughter. I can’t wait to tell my coworkers about this. Excuse YOU! Lmao, what?!

Then, as I walk back by the aisle again, to go check out, I hear, “That’s right just KEEP ON WALKING!”

Uhm, do I know you? Did I tease you in high school or something?

I say, “EXCUSE me?!”

Crazy man says, “YOU HEARD ME!”

Oh no you di’int. Listen you crazy sonofabitch, you can’t just run around the grocery store telling people off!

But at this point I think, Wait… if this man is crazy enough to yell at complete stranger in the baking aisle, then what else is he capable of? Am I having an encounter with the un.abomber?

I decide to walk away when I hear him shouting at me 2 aisles over, “That’s right, you just KEEP ON WALKING.”

How is it that wherever I go the crazies just hone in on me? They must know I am one of them.

Bu.d L.ight Presents: Here’s to you Mr. Baking Aisle Trash Talker. I’m sorry that your life sucks so bad that you have to tell off a total stranger.

I am thankful that I am not yet that flavor of crazy.

Putting a face to the name

2009-09-14T12:26:00.000-07:00

I hate infertility this much. :::insert arms open wide::: And I am such a juvenile imbecile that it helps me hate IF even more if I assign it an evil identity.

Like the Grim Reaper. Or Jason with his freaky hockey mask. Basically, someone’s ass I wouldn’t mind kicking.

But in my version of childish imagery IF doesn’t hide behind a cloak or a hockey mask.

In my mind, it looks something like the gigantic snot aiming to get people to purchase hoards of Muc.inex because they have gobs of snot and phlem running down their face.

You know who I mean. That sick SOB that wants to take up residence in your sinus cavity. Imagine him hunkering down for the long haul, duct taping his crap down, so that when you try to hock a lugey he will remain comfy and cozy.

Well, in my minds eye IF looks something like that, but instead of snot, it’s a shrively dried up ovary. She has hunkered down and downright refuses to blink first.

Yes, putting a face to it really helps my anger issues. Obviously.

A friend ever so gently, in a “dealing with a crazy person” kind of way, suggested I go back to my crazy doctor. I opted to go back to bikram yoga this weekend instead. Because I got on the scale on Saturday and it literally read, “FAT COW.” So. That always comes as a surprise.

Suffice it to say, the injection and progesterone supplements did not work. I had to wait 5… count them with me… 1.2.3.4.5. days for the blood test results. Because, really? Why isn’t that reasonable? To wait 5 days for results that take a maximum of 4 hours to obtain. Gah!

I actually called the Office Manager to complain. Little did I know the “Office Manager” is Dr. piece of cake’s husband.

You: You’re kidding me, right?

Me: I wouldn’t do it to ya.

Next round is TBD. That is, if I can get Mr. POC to call me back. Damn. Why do I get the feeling I will soon be shopping for a new dr.?

Flaunting it

2009-09-02T13:34:00.000-07:00

I don’t even dare mention the last name of the people expecting their 18th, 19th, 20th , … whatever they’re up to, child. I really don’t give a flying crap what they choose to do, or how many lives they choose to populate their cult clan with. But they’ve been flaunting their fertility for 16 kids now. They are rubbing my nose in the turd of their fertility. Really, just rubbing it in. Then whacking me with a newspaper and throwing me out in the rain until I’ve learned my lesson.

With this in mind, I’ve decided to petition the D%**@!$ for their 18th, 19th, 20th, … whatever, child.

Here’s what I have so far:

Dear D%**@!$,

May I puhlease have your 18th, 19th, 20th, … whatever, child?

Thank you kindly, Kansas

What do you think? Too direct? As if they would even notice if one or two were missing from the herd.

Anyways…

As predicted I broke down and tested yesterday and today (day 8 & 9). I know this is bad for many reasons. But I wanted to see if the hcg was still in my system to give a false positive. I am happy (?) to report I got a bfn yesterday and today. But I won’t fully trust them until Tuesday of next week… So, my status at the Early Test Club has been restored.
Regardless, I’m in a bad place today. What exactly does that mean? Honestly, I’m a little fuzzy on the details. But my brother and SIL use it to define when my nephew is having a bad day. They say, he’s “in a bad place.” Is that like cutting a tooth? Or like picking blueberries on an island when your kayak floats away? Or like playing football at the beach and you lose your wedding ring? Either way, I don’t have a great feeling that the injection worked. Like when you get fried dough at the beach, even though you know what fried dough does to you, and the only bathroom around is a porter potty a half mile away. Or like when you start spotting on day 27 of your cycle even though you have your fingers, toes, legs, eyes crossed that this is the month for you. Yeah, it’s like that.

At any rate, progesterone testing is tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll have to feign some emergency on Friday to get the results. “Yes Dr. piece of cake, my ute is actually falling out right now, I think I need to come in.” I know all of you internets will be waiting with titillating anticipation.

Can someone wipe the turd off my nose?

Pins and needles

2009-08-25T06:31:00.000-07:00

6:15am - Beep… Beep… Beep…

6:20am - Kitchen counter covered with syringes, alcohol prep pads, hcg, diluting solution. I am like a crack fiend looking for their next high.

6:25am – Fertility monitor reads High. Omg, ute?! You decided to cooperate!?

6:30am – Boxer (See Below) looks at me quizzically, “What the h are you doing Ma?” Nothing to see here, move it along!

6:45am – The deed is done… with 1 casualty… Pain, tears, hysterics over accidentally sticking myself in the thumb. Holy hot mother of god, that shit hurts. But it made sticking myself in the stomach seem like a piece of cake.

Progesterone testing is next. Not sure when that will be since I have officially worn out my welcome at my doctors office. They are screening my calls and have a restraining order against me.

I recognize that I must wait the full 2 weeks to get an accurate test reading, which will be torturous. Since I am not just a member of the Early Test Club, I am also the President. I hope they don’t revoke my membership, and my title, because who am I kidding? We all know I will be testing from 8 dpo on out.

The waiting game

2009-08-24T07:58:00.000-07:00

I like games. We had great fun playing games this past weekend; Gin Rummy, 21. Who doesn’t have fun playing some games with friends? Games generally have rules, participants, some type of contest, a strategy, a timeframe, fun“ness.”

This waiting game does not fit into that criteria whatsoever.

Who came up with this “game?” Some joker with a seriously messed up idea of fun. Let me clue you in on a key ingredient for games… they have to be FUN. So you can take you, yourself, and your messed up games and get the hells out of here.

I know what you’re thinking… “Kansas, you dummy, it’s a phrase! Stop being so literal!”

Thanks, I needed that pistol whip this morning. Really, because this game has been going on since Thursday. I went in for the injection, but lo and behold my follicle was not big enough. They checked estrodiol and told me to come back in my next lifetime when it would be at sufficient levels for the injection.

This morning, bright and peppy 8am, I went back in. The follicle is sooper doper perfect size, lining is lovely, but fertility monitor is still on low. Wah? How can dis be? My short bus ute failing me again? Fer realz kids.

I have been instructed to carry around my injection supplies with me at all times… you know, just in case my eckstra speshul ute decides to cooperate at a moments notice.

Imagine me… at an offsite work function… at the beach… out to dinner… hanging out with friends… and back at work. With my doggie bag, because I've been carrying it around since Thursday.

My coworkers can’t figure out why I won’t just throw away my seriously stale nachos from last week. I get separation anxiety, ok? Gahd.

So here I am at work. And I can’t decide, IF I get the greenlight today, where exactly I would like to look like a crackhead and shoot myself up. In our uber nasty bathroom? Kitchen that hasn’t been cleaned in the 2 years that I’ve been working here? Conference room that leaks toilet water from the upstairs bathrooms?

So many choices, I may just put them all in a hat and draw one out.

I should find out in an hour if the estridiol is good to go.

Nomination? For Moi?

2009-08-14T11:56:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Miss Tori for Nominating me for the Lovely Blogger Award!

I would like to thank Dan.non Light & Fit blueberry yogurt for helping me maintain souper duper mental clarity, my friends, my fans, oh I know I am forgetting someone, but I'm just so nervous. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

I'm passing it on to

Bella

I've been stalking her blog for a while. So happy that things are falling into place for her.

Secret Lovers: Me & Chip

2009-08-13T07:43:00.001-07:00

I feel like I can be frank with you, internet bff’s, all 7 of you. 6 of who accidentally stumbled here by Googling “Cadillac.” That was a fatal error. Now I will never let you leave. Muuahhh haaa haaa. (that’s my evil laugh, it’s scary, huh?)

I have officially stopped seeing my crazy doctor. Actually, it’s unofficial. I had an appointment scheduled, I cancelled it, and then never rescheduled. (what a cop out, she would be so disappointed in me)

I started feeling stressed out when I knew I was going to see her because I didn’t know what to talk about. That was my first clue.

I actually do miss her though, on a personal level, rather than a psychological one. She’s really sweet and nice. I thought about sending her a card and asking if we could be friends. My first thought is that might be a bit too Fatal Attraction for my style. And my second thought is that I don’t pay any of my other friends $205 an hour to hang out with me. So, the cord has been cut (terribly inappropriate phrasing). Unless I have a spastic episode in the future, in which case, I reserve the right to resume my psychological friendship with her.

Until then, she has left some pretty big shoes to fill. At this time I’d like to introduce my new friend Chip.

Internets: meet Chip.

Chip: meet Internets.

He’s waving. He’s kind of sneering though, because that’s how he rolls. He’s taken up residence on my shoulder. And he’s got mongoose like reflexes when he thinks I’ve been dissed, or someone has one upped my fucked up emotional state. Because duh, no one in the history of the world could possibly be as devastated as I am. Joan of Arc? That bitch better not dare say she had it worse off than me or Chip will wind one up with her name on it. Gawd.

Chip is always there in the clutch though. Like when my mom gave me the “Life is hard, choose God’s way” speech this weekend. Wait, Chip just thought he heard you compare my devastation and impending fertility treatments to buying a house, divorce, and difficult pregnancies. Did he get that right? Then… BAM, right in the kisser. She didn’t even see it coming. Poor mom. She should know that Chip is all business.

I’m not sure how long Chip will stick around. Hopefully not too long, he crowds my space a bit. I doubt Dr. Crazy would care for him. It’s okay, we’ll be secret lovers.

Prepare for the worst

2009-08-10T09:38:00.001-07:00

What do cramming 7 drunks and 1 DD into a Chevy Blazer, jello shots, penis cakes, sore ass feet, and Pin the Macho on the Man have in common? I know, you could have guessed after the first clue. The festivus de Bachelorette!

I must say the bachelorette parties have thinned out in the last year. Mostly due to the fact that the majority (if not all) of my friends are married by now. This one was for my cousin, which was how I knew it was going to be a raving good time. My other cousins (one from out of state) also came, which made the trouble factor rise significantly. But it was so much fun to catch up, and party with them.

Chaz, our Pin the Macho on the Man sleazebag whore, was great fun. We hid his bizarrely decorated penises all around my house for my husband to find. It was great when I hear him shout from our room yesterday:

“Why is there a zebra print penis in my sock drawer?”

Me: “Huh, wah? Can’t hear you…”

It will be excellent this winter when he finds one in the fireplace.

The party was perfect in theory. Girls night out! What could go wrong?! But after an hour my incisions were throbbing and I thought my guts might fall out at any minute. I thought to myself: “Self, what the hell is your 27 year old going through IF treatments ass doing out here?” I sat on a bar stool for 15 minutes and rallied to finish out the night.

Despite my moment of weakness, it was a good night filled with bachelorette debauchery fun. Chaz, love you. Miss you. Hope you’re not getting salmonella on the bottom of my trash can.

In other wildly exciting news, my hcg injection is scheduled for the 20th at 9am. And we found out our insurance company is going to cover it.

Me: “What you’re going to cover a treatment for something that is medically wrong with me?”

I almost fell down the stairs ass over tea kettle when they told me. My motto with them is: Prepare for the worst. I think if I said, “Wait, let me get this straight…” one more time they would have shaken the Magic 8 ball again on me and changed their minds. So I let it go.

Internets: any advice on how to get my dh to produce his jizz sample would be hugely appreciated. I brought home a 1 pager of directions filled with "masterbation," "ejaculation," etc. They know how to turn a dude on, right? I offered to give a "hand" but how do I know when the time is right? The sample has to be provided between 8am and 3pm.

Me (from work): "Hey honey, how about we run home for lunch for a quick hand job?"

Him: "... ... ...."

Not so much.

Step right up please and get your tickets!

2009-08-06T13:18:00.000-07:00

Omg, LPD, OPP, TGIF, HCG! WTF?! I wonder if I could write a post made up entirely of acronyms. I looove the acronyms. I hope acronyms take over the entire English language.
Moving on, as acronyms have nothing to do with anything at all, I just wanted to interrupt your regularly scheduled program to profess my love for dat crap.

I saw dr. ‘wonderful, everything is a piece of cake’ yesterday. She has always been this way; through my ep, both surgeries, getting pg in general, almost to the point of getting on my nerves. Everything seems so simple in her book. Maybe it is I who complicates everything? I’m not really going to ponder that, since I’ve stopped seeing my crazy dr., who knows what might send me hurling over the edge these days.

Moving on, again. ADHD, there’s an acronym for you. … After another ridiculously long wait in the waiting room (were talking 45 minutes here) I got in for my 15 minutes of fame. It was scheduled to be my annual, but I morphed it into another IF session. Listen, I’ll milk the woman for whatever I can after 45 minutes in the waiting room, mkay?

I told her how after last months sonogram & estrodial tests I never got a positive OPK (which I acknowledge in hindsight). And how I spent a retarded fortune on the Cadillac and it has said I’ve been on “high” fertility for the last 11 days (shocked? Mmm, me too). Through this new round of blessed information she was able to whittle the IF culprits down to 1! Now we know with complete certainty where the problem lies. OMG, GTFO! I know, it’s so exciting!

I prepare the follicle normally, estrodial rises normally… but… then… nothing. I’m not producing the LH surge to trigger ov. She has thought that I do not ov all along, but wasn’t sure why. Well now we know. Arentyousosmart.

We’re going to bypass Clomid altogether. There’s no point wasting months of that if we know if won’t work for. I’m thankful for the saved months of frustration. (I should deposit those into my frustration savings account, they might come in handy later.)

We’re going to have a sonogram on/around the 21st. If a good follicle is developing we’re going straight for the HCG injections. A few days later we will do a progesterone test, and do supplements as necessary. I must say I am a total dummy when it comes to this. And dr. piece of cake did not do the best job of explaining the steps. Like, how many injections are there? 1 per month? Does my insurance cover it? Clueless. Like Alicia Silverstone meets IF.

Ohyeah.btw.honey? you must haz your jizz tested. Did I forget to mention that? Mkay, cause you do. So.stepuptotheplate.makeithappen.

Must.stay.on.topic. I’m feeling really positive about the next steps now that we’ve finally narrowed down the problem. (which I must say explains a lot because I’ve had irregular cycles my entire life). But I am concerned about the odds of multiples (not bad though)/cost/insurance/side effects/etc. Any insights/experiences you fab internets have to share with my dirty whore blog would be very welcomed.

Hot diggity dogs

2009-08-04T11:34:00.001-07:00

Since I have nothing to post related to my disfunctional self I thought I'd post a pic of my dogs, Benson & Roxy. Benson is in the foreground, Roxy is taking a snooze in the background.

They make me laugh literally every day.

In other news, I have an appointment with my dr. tmo. I'm thinking of giving Clomid a whirl since the Cadillac has confirmed that I have not ov'd. High fertility period for 11 days? I don't think so.

Does that blow your mind?

2009-07-21T06:13:00.000-07:00

Someone on a message board (for ep’s trying to get pg) had some pretty bitch slap comments for me this morning that I feel the need to address in case some others feel that I am a pathetic, overanalyzing, obsessed, controlling piece of shit .

(which I am all of the above. But god, I feel the need to save face, mkay?!)

I was being my fun self (as if I could be any other kind of self) and asking the girls about what types of fertility monitors they’ve used (see post below).

We are laughing and discussing the contraptions I’ve discovered and seeing who’s tried what.

And I get a note from Mrs. Not Fun Wants to Spoil Everyone Else’s Fun (how on earth does she sign that? I’d shorten it to Mrs. NFWSEEF).

Anyways, Mrs. NFWSEEF says to stop drinking and eat right to prepare for another pregnancy. Thank GOD she has told me this because I have been drunk since 2007 eating burritos and chili dogs. Damn it, if I had only known.

Then she says you have to chill out, because it won’t happen if you try too hard. Guilty, but that is such a bull shit statement. AND what about the people that don’t try at all? What about those mother….. ? AND what about people with ACTUAL MEDICAL diagnoses contributing to their IF, what about that Mrs. Smartypants, I mean, Mrs. NFWSEEF?

She does not do OPK’s or anything of the nature because someone told her it adds too much pressure. Who is this “someone” and what the flying fuck do they know about anything? I wouldn’t trust where they think you should buy salami from, never mind take their dumb ass opinion on fertility. Cease and desist taking advice from this person. Immediately.

In summary, Mrs. NFWSEEF, thank you for bitch slapping me up one side and down the other because you clearly have so much experience and good luck with getting knocked up that I would obviously want to give a rip about your advice. And I find the suggestive nature of your comments to be really annoying.

(in reality, my note back to her said something along the lines of: You raise some very good points. I’m going to give them some strong consideration.) That’s BS, I will do no such thing. End of story. I don't think I need to elaborate anymore on this.

It ain't right. And you know who you are...

2009-07-20T12:48:00.001-07:00

Can I have the floor for a minute (or maybe 60? You dirty wannabe therapist whore of a blog)? I am in a fit of psychosis today over the amount of products marketed to infertiles. These filthy two timing bitches know that the infertile community will buy hoards of their ridiculously overpriced products based on promises of conception. I’m sure you’ve seen them. They market everything from lubes and vitamins to microscopes and digital monitors. You can basically spend a fortune. But it’s worth it, right? I mean, if it works. That’s what we tell ourselves anyways to rationalize the expenditure.
Uhm yes Uncle Sam, I spent $10,327 last year trying to get knocked up and I cannot see why that is not a tax write off. Someone.give.me.something.to.work.with.here. Fer real.
Wait a tick… did you say microscope?! What am I a freaking scientist!? That’s right kids. For a lovely $49.99 you too can buy a fertility microscope (because you are not NEARLY obsessive enough as it is) so that you can overanalyze saliva. Believe it or not, the microscope has received excellent reviews. And this device does not require you to purchase test strips! It tests SALIVA, not blood, or urine or even delicious cervical mucus. I just threw up in my mouth with the image of sticking a microscope up into the lady business. We need to move on.
Just as I am considering spending the ridiculous $49.99 on the microscope (because let’s face it, if I get the microscope I have to dig out my pocket protector and my retainer and nobody wants that) I find something even more expensive to blow my hard earned dollars out the window on, a digital fertility monitor. This contraption is on SALE for $142.99. Non sale prices range from $185-$250. And these prices do not include the test strips which will run you $45 for a 30 day supply. Bend over and grab your ankles because you are about to take it in the heiny. But this genius of modern technology detects 2 forms of ov hormones (LH & estrodial), where others only detect 1 (LH). When I find myself actually considering spending this ghastly amount of money on my very own “Cadillac of fertility monitors” I know I have officially lost it. In an attempt for redemption I look on craigslist. Maybe I can find a used one for less? And I do!!! Oh my, it is my lucky day because I found a used contraption for $50!!! Then it strikes me that the thought of inserting MY pee stick into a device that someone else has put THEIR pee stick into is infinitely disgusting. And the vag microscope is suddenly looking more appealing. (okay okay, it’s not for the vag, but I like calling it that).
I will be proceeding myself directly to CVS after work to charge my Cadillac on my credit card, because it’s worth it, right? I mean, if it works;o)

I'm going to need an old priest and a young priest

2009-07-09T07:57:00.000-07:00

AF got word that I hate her and want her dead, now she is trying to kill me.

Send morphine, send vicodin, send percocet!!!

Countdown to ov: 20 days.

X + Y = Z

2009-07-07T05:53:00.000-07:00

AF + BFN = I am a dumb whore who wasted an $8 hpt to test even though I’ve started to get AF.

AF + BFN = Cookie dough for breakfast

Cookie dough for breakfast + Godiva chocolaty flower goodness = It’s going to be a 5,000 calorie day friends, and I’m going to enjoy every bite of it.

Can I just say...

2009-06-29T15:30:00.001-07:00

I am sick and tired of people telling me not to worry that I'll have another baby someday. It's not about my ability to have a baby. It's about how the loss of my first pregnancy is affecting my life. Don't reduce what I've been through because you have no idea what it's like. Like having a baby will suddenly make it all okay? Guess what? No matter how many children I go on to have someday I will never forget what I have lost. Ever. Having a baby is not the magical cure for babyloss. Having a baby will not make my heart hurt any less for what I have lost. It's like telling someone that's newly divorced "don't worry, you'll get married again someday." how dumb is that? Seriously.

Oh, you didn't get the memo?

2009-06-29T07:27:00.001-07:00

You know that feeling when you have just taken a kung fu shot to the gut? Allow me to explain…
My brother calls last night. When I didn’t answer (I was in my garden) he called Keith’s phone. Didn’t leave messages on either phones. Weird. I call him back we catch up on weekend and general life goings on for about 20 minutes. Semi strange. He asks about my dr. appointment this week. We talked about that and fertility in general for about another 15 minutes. Also, strange. Finally, he says he called because he wanted to tell me something. Long pause. He gets emotional, starts crying. I’m thinking, aw, my brother wants to tell me how much he loves me and how he doesn’t say it often enough, but the things I’ve been through have made him think about how thankful he is for having such a wonderful sister. Right. Then… KAPOW (insert kung fu shot to the gut). My SIL is pregnant. He didn’t know how I’d react. (wait I’m still gasping for air). He hopes I’m not too upset. (clearly not what I was expecting). Obviously they didn’t get the memo that no one in the world is allowed to get pregnant until I finally am able to produce offspring. Inconsiderate jerks. As I’m choking back tears I tell him how deliriously happy I am for them, of course I’m not upset, I’m sure it won’t be easy for me, but I am certainly not upset. Next time read your memo and we can avoid a situation like this happening in the first place.

The reality is, of course I’m happy for them. I am so happy that they don’t have to go through what I’ve been though. I would never want that for anyone. No one should ever know what it’s like to have trouble conceiving, or to know what’s like to experience a loss. It’s indescribable. Because of our differing realities with conception I feel like it makes it harder and harder for me to relate to them. I feel like I roll my eyes at people a lot and think, if you felt an ounce of the hurt I feel, then you would have a glimpse into the heartbreak that I live every day.
When we hung up the phone I exploded into tears. I’m happy that they don’t know the pain that I know. But I’m sad that I don’t know the joy that they know.
It’s not about “ever” getting pregnant. I’m not worried about that. I’m confident that someday we’ll get to be parents too. It’s the excitement and happiness around that inevitable day that I’m already missing, even though it hasn’t come yet. I know it will be filled with stress and worry, and I wish it didn’t have to be that way. Once you feel that hurt the fear that you will feel it again lingers. I hope in time that fear can fade.

In other, brighter, news, I definitely ov’d this weekend! So glad to be done with those OPK’s for a while. I definitely pee’d on multiple sticks Thursday and Friday to compare the intensity and darkness of the test line to the reference line. I stopped short of getting my microscope out because, oh yeah, I don’t have one. Seriously, you need a Harvard MD to be able to interpret those things.
To put it blunt, we did it like teenagers this weekend. Seriously. I won’t go into any more detail than that. Sunday morning though I had the smallest amount of spotting with my first morning pee (yeah yeah, tmi, I know). If it had been a week later I would’ve been all excited thinking it was implantation spotting. But I know it’s way too soon for that. It worried me a little bit, so I tried to lay low for the rest of the day and I didn’t have any more.
Stay tuned the two week wait is on and it won’t be pretty.

Questions and Answers

2009-06-25T12:55:00.001-07:00

I saw my doctor yesterday. She explained the surgery to me in really good detail and it really makes sense with what happened with the EP. Basically, an endo adhesion was pulling my left ovary away from my left tube, thereby when I ov’d the follicle went into my uterus and was fertilized there, instead of the left tube where it should have been. It needed a place to hunker down and get cozy for a while so it pulled into the only other logical place. My right tube. So I feel good that what my dr. thought happened is actually what did happen. Props to her! Damn, she’s good.

While I was there we figured we could nail 2 birds with one stone…. Actually 3 birds with one stone. I had a trans vag sonogram to see which side I will ov from this month (if I ov at all). Turns out that I have a dominant follicle on the right side (goddamnit). I had blood drawn yesterday to see if I will ov at all this month.

I was really stressed out yesterday about the prospect of ov’ing from the right side. The left tube is definitely in much better shape than the right. I was (and still kinda am) worried that because the right tube is slightly damaged that I might have another ep. Keith says that if my dr. isn’t worried about it then I shouldn’t be worried about it. My dr. said she has no worries that the right tube will function correctly. The ultrasound tech also said the right side looked good. So, I guess I’m going to try not to worry about it. Although I have to be honest, the scary reality of having another ep is staring me right in the face and freaking me the fuck out. Almost to the point of wanting to wait until next month, but there’s no guarantee that I’ll ov from the left side next month. I could ov from the right side again. There’s no telling. And I certainly can’t go back to my dr. every month for a sonogram and blood work (although I joke with her staff about it, I don’t think they think it’s funny).

Finally, I just got a call from her office… turns out my estrodiol shows that I will ov in the next day or two!!!! Even though I’m worried, I’m still very exciting to know that I am ov’ing ON MY OWN! Without fertility drugs! Thanksyouverymuch! So, that is great news.

I just peed on an OPK stick… at work. Gross, I know! But today is our anniversaryJ and we’re going right out to dinner from work, so basically there was no other time to take it. Getoverit. I’m staring at a pee stick at my desk as I type (I put it in my glasses case, clever, right?!). The line is MUCH darker than previous days. I think tomorrow is going to be the positive day, and I’ll ov on Saturday. That is my google MD estimate.

Anyways, happy anniversary to us!

Tales from the OR

2009-06-22T13:35:00.000-07:00

Safe to say that I was, ahem, anxious about the surgery. Well, it went well. Way better than I expected. It was a walk in the park compared to the last surgery.
On a scale of 1 – 10 the first surgery was a 10 and the second was a 0. People kept saying to me, “oh but the emotional aspect of the first surgery is what made is so much worse.” Uh, no people, I don’t think you’re getting it. Yes, the “emotional aspect” of the first surgery was a nightmare. But physically, the first surgery was so much worse. I couldn’t shower by myself or go up and down the stairs in my house for the first 2 weeks after the first surgery. I couldn’t lift my legs onto the bed to lie down. I would sit on the edge and Keith would have to swing my legs around. The pain was ridiculous. It’s made me realize how close to dying I really was before that first surgery. Scary.
Anyways…. I made lots of new friends after this surgery. Particularly my friend nurse Joanne, you know who you are, never shy with the morphine, you hold a special place in my heart!
Speaking of morphine. Thank the LOHD that it’s not sold on the street, because I would be one happy addict if it was. Those few morphine induced euphoric hours were bliss, the best time of my life.
From what I hear I was a real riot. Keith said I kept saying “vag” and “lady business” in front of my mom. Wonderful. Thankfully, she hasn’t mentioned it.
At any rate, when I am president everyone will have access to as much morphine as they want whenever they want it. Period. I’ll make bumper stickers: Got Morphine?
In all seriousness, the surgery went well. The endo was removed, (I even got pictures!), and the dye test went pretty well. The left tube is clear as a bell, the dye flowed right through, no problems. The right tube was a little “windy.” as Dr. R put it. She said the dye flowed through, but not as well as the left side. She said the windyness was where the pregnancy was. She said there could be small amounts of endo there (too small for her to remove). This all makes me wonder if her original theory of the EP is wrong. She originally thought the left tube ovulated, egg was fertilized, then couldn’t implant in uterus because of too much endo, so it was sucked up into the right tube. After seeing pictures of the surgery, it really doesn’t look like there was a whole lot of endo in there. I wonder if it was fertilized in the right tube, but the little bugger never made it out of the windyness. I was too out of it to think of these obvious questions right after the surgery. But I’m going to ask on Wednesday when I have my 2 week follow up. She said the windyness (I hate that word) of the right tube is no cause for concern and she isn’t worried about it in the least bit. Basically, we can start doing it like animals.
I’ve stocked up on OPK’s (hella expensive), I’m on CD 14 and no ov yet. I’m trying to coax it along through meditation. Ha, we’ll see how that goes! I’ll try anything! Maybe acupuncture?
What a smorguesborgue of a post! Topic to topic to topic….
I got proactiv last week. I’ve been using for a little over a week and my skin is supah dry, but I think it’s working. I still have some breakouts on my jawline, but it’s getting better.

I am not okay

2009-06-10T06:11:00.000-07:00

As in breathing into a paper bag. Not.okay. I am on the fast track to a fairyland place of communal living, where the inhabitants are constantly in a dream like state from the excessive amounts of meds that are shoved down their throats. This place, I lovingly refer to, is the mental institution which I am convinced I am about to be committed to.
I blame my continued anxiety on Google. What have you done for me lately Google? Why do I put myself through this sadistic mental torture?
Last night I was tempted, like you don’t want to know about, to sneak a happy little vicodin and forget about my troubles. Who needs Calgon? Vicodin, take me away!
I came in to work this morning to news that a coworker in another office had passed away over the weekend during childbirth. Apparently she hemorrhaged, the baby survived. This is so upsetting to me, I think it’s what started the anxiety this morning.
Also, one of my girlfriends is in labor today. I can’t even go there. Let’s not. We’ll “parking lot” that one.
Finally, I called my Dr.’s office and talked with her nurse about a Resident doing my surgery. I told her, in so many words, I realize that Dr. R has a medical degree from Tufts and I respect her medical knowledge, BUT my Google M.D. has better qualified me to make the call on how a Resident will play a role in my surgery. Yes I do realize that Dr. R was at one point a Resident herself. And I’d like to thank all those guinea pigs that let her practice cutting on them so I could have a fabulous physician and surgeon. thanksforyourcoorperationbuhbye. She’s going to run it by my Dr. and see if I need to sign a new waiver.
As if being this much of a spaz isn’t fun enough by itself, I get to have lunch with my boss and her boss today. Mm hm, that’s right kids. Can we go somewhere that is handing out prozac at the door? Puhlease?
As a very random side note, I have just learned that 8 people have viewed my blog! I find this hilarious because I treat this blog as my dirty mistress. Listen blog, let’s lay down the rules, I want to use you and abuse you with my filthy range of emotions, but if you ever go public on me I’ll deny it all. I do not pay you child support, I am not your baby daddy.
Omg, I have reached a new level of crazy. I have to stop myself. Clearly no one else will. It’s going to be a long day.
Keith is taking me out for dinner tonight. Hopefully I’ll have my marbles together by then!

Yes, that's right. I did it again.

2009-06-09T13:55:00.000-07:00

My name is S-P-A-Z. But I am trying not to be. Seriously.trying.not.to.be.a.spaz. All efforts are futile. The sensible side of me is powerless against the crazy side. The more I try NOT to think about the surgery = the more I DO think about the surgery. It’s like a psychological bitch slap. You know you’re circling the drain when you wind up on Google. Google is the beginning of the end. When you find yourself making a Google search you know you have crossed the line, you’ve gone too far. You will regret it when you are on the floor crying in the fetal position in the corner of your office. Your co-workers walk by and say, Uh oh, she did it again. Yes friends, yes she did.
Reading statistics on pregnancy post endo surgery, complications from endo surgery, the reasons why endo can cause infertility, and why those reasons may not be corrected with surgery.
Basically, as eager as I was to put my uterus on display again, I am now having tormented second thoughts. I want them to look into my uterus, obtain a full report on what is going on in there, then allow me to wake up and make a sane educated decision on the future of my uterus. Because after all, my Google, M.D. has given me the knowledge to make such decisions.
I don’t want to get myself started on a Resident doing my surgery, but I digress. I’m already there, circling the drain again. I’m pretty sure I’m going to throw a fit in the hospital and demand that the Resident be there for instructional viewing purposes only. This said Resident will not play an instrumental role. Period. I should bring my Googled literature with highlighted segments about how complex the surgery can be. I will absolutely not have someone with training wheels on be removing adhesions from my still suffering from post traumatic stress disorder uterus. Uhnothankyouma’am.
I’ve got myself all nerved up. ithinki’mgoingtocrapmypants.

the 411

2009-06-02T10:41:00.001-07:00

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. I’ve been trying to contain my psychosis. I think I’ve been doing pretty well at that… most of the time. I had my pre-consultation with my doctor this morning. I love her, I love her staff, but they are never on time. Ever. I was with her for 15 minutes, but I was out of work for an hour and a half. How exactly does that work?
The surgery will be about an hour and a half. She will try to use the same incisions, but she’s not sure if she’ll be able to. I mentioned I still have quite a bit of soreness. She said she thought it might be from the endo. I disagree, but we’ll see after the surgery. She said it wouldn’t be as bad as the last surgery because of the amount of blood I lost in that surgery. After this one I should be feeling remarkably better immediately following the surgery. She said I’d be in recovery for 2-4 hours. She said a resident dr. would be doing the surgery, but that she would be there to do the “major” stuff. Um, not sure how I feel about that, but I don’t think I get a say in it. She’s also going to do an HSG dye test while she’s in there to ensure the tubes aren’t blocked.
Anyways, she gave me a prescription for vicodin after the surgery. She said we could start TTC again immediately. As in day after surgery? That would be correct. She said as soon as I was feeling up to it. Time to stock up on OPK’s! She said whenever I get pregnant again we’ll test hormones every couple of days to ensure they are doubling normally, and have a scan as soon as the hormones are high enough for an image to be detectable. I feel good about that. She said it does not mean that the entire pregnancy would be considered high risk. She said if we try clomid that would not make the endo come back faster. Although we’ve talked about it and decided to hold off on trying clomid for 3-6 months.
I mentioned to her that my skin has been a borderline nightmare since all the hormone fluctuations. She suggested proactive. I’m going to get that this week. Hopefully it will work.
I’ve got the beginning of a sinus cold coming on, she said if it wasn’t gone by Friday to call and she’d prescribe antibiotics so the surgery doesn’t get rescheduled. Also, I had blood drawn today to test my hormones: thyroid and prolactin (?, I think). I want to make sure there isn’t any other issue going on. I would hate to start TTC again and then months down the road find out there was something else wrong too.
Overall it was a good appointment. But the place is crawling with pregnant women and babies/toddlers. And there’s a daycare on the first floor of the building. Super. One of the exam rooms actually has a picture of a woman breastfeeding. There are pictures of bare stomachs every where you turn, on pamphlets, magazines, and posters. As if it’s not bad enough for me to go back to “the scene of the crime.” But I have to be accosted by preggos and children everywhere. Coming from someone with fertility issues, the place is an absolute nightmare to go to. If I didn’t love my doctor so much I’d look for a new one. Really, it’s that bad.
I just can’t wait to get the surgery over with. I know I’m going to be an anxiety attack mess until then. I’m going to a relaxation class at the hospital the day before the surgery. Better late than never, right? It’s only offered 1 day per week. I can’t go this week because I’m seeing my psych dr. at the same time the class is offered.
In fun news, we got a boat yesterday. I am very much looking forward to going to the lake for the weekend for some fun before the surgery!

Mourning sickness

2009-05-19T12:50:00.000-07:00

The surgery is officially in 23 days. I’ve gone through a gamut of feelings about it. I went from dreading it, to being excited about the possibility of ttc again, to now, where I am a mixture of the two.
On the one hand I feel excited about the future and ttc again. The possibility of getting pregnant again is exciting.
On the other hand I feel terrified. I feel terrified of another surgery possibly causing damage to my already defunct uterus. I feel terrified of feeling out of control about the future. I feel terrified of being pregnant and not being in control of my health and being a neurotic mess about doing things “right”. I feel terrified of not knowing when to trust my instincts. I feel terrified of the fertility decisions that lay ahead of us and the amount of time remaining to make those decisions.
The decision is how aggressively we want to pursue fertility intervention. Specifically, clomid (which isn't that "agressive" really). My gut says not to resort to it for at least a few months to give us time to try “naturally.” But I know that we will be most fertile in the first 6 months after the surgery. So the dilemma is to make the most of our most fertile time or not? My doctor is advising us to start clomid immediately after the surgery. I just don’t know. Keith and I haven’t talked about it yet. We still have a few weeks to make a decision and I don’t want to beat the topic to death with him. I’m thinking about it, but I don’t feel pressured to make a decision.
I’m leaning to having a consultation with a magic 8 ball.

The surgery consult is June 2nd, two weeks away. We’ll be able to ask some questions then.

I'll take potpourri for $200

2009-05-11T13:15:00.000-07:00

I had another appointment with my psychologist last week. I went alone this time. It was good. She really helped me understand that my lack of control over what happened and my lack of control over the future is what is giving me so much anxiety. I’m not exactly sure how to fix that yet, but I’m sure she’ll help me. She suggested setting aside time for myself each day. I haven’t done it yet, but I’d like to.

I finished the garden…

The peonies are my favorite. Keith brought me the biggest most brilliant bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen yesterday with peonies. He is so sweet, the most wonderful husband in the world.
Also, Saturday my ectopic pregnancy trust box came (great timing!). I got a couple t-shirts, pins and cell phone charms. I wore one of my t-shirts all day yesterday.

Un-mother's day

2009-05-11T12:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was an emotional day for me, as I’m sure it was for many. I stumbled across a great poem another blogger wrote. To all the sweet, precious, delicate petals our flowers have lost:

Not just today.
Not just during daylight.
Not just during night time.
Always and every day.
Absent and yet so present.
Missed and so deeply loved.

1 month until my next surgery.

You can hate it or love it

2009-05-04T13:53:00.001-07:00

I got blindsided at an open house I was doing yesterday. I never even saw it coming. Allow me to set the scene… A couple in their 70’s came to see the house. They thought the main house might be perfect for their son and his family and the in law apartment for themselves. As I was taking them through the house they were telling me about their children and grandchildren. After about 20 minutes they decided that the house had too many stairs for them. Since they had been talking about their family when they left I wished the wife a happy mothers day next weekend. I should have seen it coming… her sweet little old husband turned to me and asked if I was a mother. I was so shocked that I didn’t know what to say. I said no. He smiled and said that someday I would be. And I’m sure he’s right. But in the meantime, this mother’s day sucks. I just want to hide. I don’t want to see mother’s day advertisements or commercials. I’m taking my mother to a Best of Broadway performance on Saturday night. I’m hoping to just be alone on Sunday. It’s going to be a hard week. But I hope that the mere recognition will make it easier.

It’s like I’m stuck. But I have to make progress. I can’t stay this way forever. The countdown to the next surgery is 38 days. I hope that by the time that it’s here I’ll be doing better. But I’m afraid. What if I am this way forever? We’re seeing our psychologist on Wednesday in a positive effort not to remain lunatics forever. I shouldn’t speak for Keith. He’s not a lunatic.

In positive news, we made a new garden this weekend. I love it. It came out so nice. I love gardening so much, even though I got stung by a wasp this weekend. Ouch! It was worth it. We still have some more planting to do, which I’m hoping we’ll be able to do tonight before dark.

Confessions of a babyloss shopaholic

2009-04-27T13:38:00.000-07:00

Does it make me crazy that I was looking at cribs on craigslist.com today? Probably not. Does it make me crazy that I was looking at cribs on craigslist.com today and actually considering purchasing a crib and changing table? Probably. It was a nice set and a good deal. So commit me already. I can’t help but think that it would be “jinxing” to get a crib set at this point. And Keith would probably think that I’d completely lost my marbles. Maybe I have, haha.
My cousin came over last night and we were knitting and crocheting baby blankets. Mostly because they’re easier and quicker to complete. And I know a couple women about to have babies in the next couple months and the thought of going to Baby’s R Us to get them gifts literally makes me want to gag. So, I’m going to make them little blankets, which is fun for me and keeps me busy.
I’ve finally emerged from the fog I was in last week. I haven’t had much abdominal pain in the last couple of days, so that has helped morale. I was supposed to get my 4th week (aka rag) on 4/23 and I haven’t thus far. I’m not too worried about it being late. I’m sure it’ll just take time to get back on track. But I’m sure that’s why I’ve been having so much pain, especially last week. Really better in the last few days though which is a welcomed relief.
I went to the lake on Saturday with my Dad. It was gorgeous, in the 80’s. We had a great time and I even took the kayak out for a few minutes which was so nice. We had a blast, I can’t wait to go again.
I’m thinking about getting a treadmill to help with my feelings of inactivity. I’m scaling back on the yoga for a while, unsure if it contributed to my soreness. And I’m nervous about causing internal damage the parts that are still healing. I figure I’ll be able to use a treadmill at least until my next surgery, and then for a few months after the next surgery too. So, if I get a used one I won’t feel so bad about spending a fortune on a brand new one. I emailed a lady on craigslist on Saturday. Still waiting for her to respond.

The funk continues...

2009-04-22T11:27:00.001-07:00

This ridiculous dreary mood I’ve been in has not lifted. Little light has been shed on why I feel this way. But I’ve still been trying to feel my way through it. I’m just so frustrated with my restrictions and limitations. I hate that I can’t go jogging or play tennis. I can’t even fully participate in yoga. It’s frustrating beyond words. I realized yesterday that exercising has always been a coping mechanism for me, and a stress reliever. When I’m working out I don’t think about anything else. Nothing. My mind is totally clear and focused on the task at hand. Now, even when I try to do yoga I wonder if I’m pushing myself too hard or if I’m injuring myself internally. But not doing anything keeps me painfully aware of reality 24/7. I feel like so much of who I am is confused right now and I can’t even do the one thing I’ve been good at my entire life. Exercising makes me feel good, not being able to is having such an affect on my mood. Just about the time I’ll hopefully be bouncing back I’ll have to have the next surgery. It gives me little to look forward to. I hate it and I hate myself for it. Rationally thinking I know this is counterproductive towards the route I am trying to take to self acceptance. I know that I can punish myself for eternity but the gaping hurt in my heart will still ache.
I recently found out the statistics on getting pregnant again after having an EP. After having an EP my odds are 15% of having another one. I read on Ectopic.org that 65% of women get pregnant again within 18 months, and 85% get pregnant again within 2 years. Doesn’t sound bad, right? Except the underlying disturbance for these statistics is that they do not show what percentage of those pregnancies resulted in live births. How many of those pregnancies resulted in another EP? Miscarriage? Stillbirth?
At first glance they don’t seem so bad, but I don’t think they tell the whole story, which is disappointing.
I’m nervous about the next surgery. What if it wasn’t endo that caused the EP? What if there is something else I should have known about?

When you're dreaming with a broken heart...

2009-04-20T07:26:00.001-07:00

For some reason I feel like I’ve been in a funk for the last few days. I’m just feeling down and mopey. Call it self loathing, I really don’t care. We went to Lowe’s this weekend and got some flowers for a new garden I want to start. We got a couple peonies and a blueberry. We got some geraniums for a hanging planter. It all overwhelmed me pretty quickly. I don’t know why I’ve been so down and easily overwhelmed the last couple of days. I think a lot of it has to do with constant pain in my left side. It’s like a constant reminder. And I don’t know why the pain is there. Is it scar tissue? An infection? I have no idea. The surgery was 6 ½ weeks ago. Shouldn’t the pain be getting better? And it was the right tube that the surgery was on, why is the left side hurting? It’s a constant ache. I saw people out jogging and playing tennis this weekend and I hate that I can’t do any of that. Exercising used to be such a release for me. Even yoga is borderline too much for me. I told my doctor’s nurse that it was making my side sore and she told me I should back off from it for a while. I cut down to 1 class a week. It was so nice out this weekend I wanted to go outside for a walk so bad, but I didn’t know if it would make my side hurt worse.
I hate it. And I hate myself. I know I’m supposed to be on this path to self acceptance but I just hate this so much. Will I be able to wear high heels or exercise before my next surgery? The next surgery is just looming over my head. Knowing that by the time I’ve healed from this I’ll have to undergo surgery again. It does not help me to feel optimistic. Like I can make all the progress in the world from now until June 11, only to be brought back to ground zero. And it seems like an eternity away. I feel like I’m stuck in limbo until then.
Since my last appointment with my crazy doctor I’ve been trying to think of why I’m so angry with myself, why do I feel so guilty, why do I feel like such a failure? Thinking rationally I know that hating myself won’t help anything, and I know that it wasn’t my fault. So why do I feel this way?
I did try painting a few days ago. It went well. I am by no means an artist, but it was nice to give my brain a break from myself for a few hours. I’m thinking about going to visit my grandmother this weekend so she can give me some pointers.
Here’s a picture of my painting…

It supposed to be nice this weekend, in the 70’s. I’d really like to get up to the lake to take my kayak out. It would be good to get away for a couple of days.
I saw the first cardinal of the season on one of my feeders this weekend. It was nice.

Chicken Soup for the Babyloss Soul

2009-04-14T13:46:00.001-07:00

It's been official for quite some time, but I have to take a moment and brag that I have the most wonderful husband in the world. He is my parter and support. He is my biggest fan, and I'm his:)
I got this email from him this afternoon...

I just heard this song…and couldn’t have said it better myself. I love you!

“Then” – Brad Paisley

I remember, trying not to stare the night that I first met you. You had me mesmerized.And three weeks later in the front porch light, taking forty five minutes to kiss goodnight.I hadn’t told you yet, but I thought I loved you then.
Now you’re my whole life, now you’re my whole world. And I just can’t believe, the way I feel about you girl.Like a river meets the sea, stronger than it’s ever been. We’ve come so far since that day.And I thought I loved you then.
I remember, taking you back to right where I first met you. You were so surprised.There people around but I didn’t care. I got down on one knee right there.And once again, I thought I loved you then.
Now you’re my whole life, now you’re my whole world. And I just can’t believe, the way I feel about you girl.Like a river meets the sea, stronger than it’s ever been. We’ve come so far since that day.And I thought I loved you then.
I can just see you, with a baby on the way. I can just see you, when your hair is turning grey.What I can’t see is how I’m ever going to love you more. But I’ve said that before.
Now you’re my whole life, now you’re my whole world. And I just can’t believe the way I feel about you girl.We’ll look back someday, at this moment that we’re in and I’ll look at you and say, “And I thought I loved you then.”And I thought I loved you then.

T-shirts, charms, pins, OH MY!

2009-04-13T14:03:00.000-07:00

I finally got some good news today. My blood work is back to normal. It brings mixed emotions. It’s good because it means that my body has and is returning to normal. It makes me feel bad though because I feel more removed from what happened.

A coworker just emailed me 121 pictures of his 8 week old baby. It was great at first. I’m so happy for him. But by about picture 87 my heart started to hurt.

Speaking of babies and newborns, I finally got to see my girlfriend’s brand new baby. He was 1 week old this weekend. I got to see her and him for a few hours on Saturday and most of the day on Sunday. He is absolutely precious. I had the best time helping her take care of him, and being there for her emotionally. It made me feel useful, which was such a good feeling.

This past weekend I decided to make an order on Ectopic Pregnancy Trust website. I was looking at their online shop, they don’t have a great selection, but it’s better than nothing! And all the proceeds go to the Trust. I’m going to get a couple of t-shirts, a few cell phone charms and a bunch of pins to put on my jackets. When I first saw them I thought to myself, “Who would wear those, it’s like an EP advertisement.” Well, I’m going to wear one. I’m going to be a walking EP advertisement. This is a part of my life and who I am and I’m not going to be afraid to talk about it. I’m not judging or criticizing anyone that would choose not to, I can certainly understand how it may be too painful for some. EP threatens women’s lives everyday. EP is the #1 cause of maternal death in the first trimester, and accounts for 10% of all pregnancy related deaths! I realize that pregnancy loss and infant death are taboo. People don’t like to talk about it because it hurts them, and it can make other people uncomfortable. EP is real and it affects people whether people acknowledge it or not. It’s real, it happened to me and it will NOT be a taboo part of my life. I will not forget it and I want everyone around me to know that. Even if I don’t talk about it everyday I haven’t forgotten about it, and I don’t want other people to forget about it either. So, I’m wearing my t-shirts, charms, and pins proudly!

Resolutions

2009-04-09T13:27:00.000-07:00

Great news I realized today, I haven’t had a severe panic attack in a week, I’ve never had them in my life, but after the surgery I started having them quite a lot, maybe due to hormones. Crazy dr. (aka my psychologist) says it’s my body’s way of saying it’s being overloaded.

Speaking of the crazy dr., our appointment yesterday went well. I told her about the difficulty with coming back to work, my spending, my need to occupy myself, my fear of trying to paint because I’m afraid I’ll be a failure and my painting will suck. I told her about my bird pole/feeder debacle where I tried to put it in the ground and I broke it, and I ended up crying because I felt like I’d failed. She thinks I need to do some reflecting on why I feel like a failure and why I am so critical of myself. I know that the EP wasn’t my fault, so I’m not sure where that’s coming from. She thinks I should take up painting. But she thinks I should tell myself that it’s okay if my painting doesn’t come out okay.
I told her about my fear of forgetting about it. She said it’s because it’s too soon and I’m not ready to “let go of it” yet, not that I ever will. But I want to get to a place where I’m at peace with it.

I went to yoga again today. This class is the hardest of the 3 classes I signed up for. I was feeling sore before I went in from wearing heels today. I should’ve left the class early because it was really too hard for me but I didn’t. Now I’m really sore. In the last 5 minutes of class though we were laying in chavasana and reflecting. I was thinking about my appointment with my psychologist and I was thinking about something someone on an EP support group board shared with me about what she had learned after her EP, 3 years ago…
“I found peace by learning to love the new person EP made me, tragedy can make us stronger and more caring, and once I let go of wishing to go back to what I was before, I found I was happy to move on as I am.” Donna
After reading her comment I had a light bulb moment. I’ve so been wishing in the last several weeks that I could “click my heels together” and have this whole thing never happen, to be who I was. Reading her comment brought tears to my eyes because it is so insightful. I have to let go of wishing I could be who I was before and accept myself as I am now.
Fast forward to chavasana and reflecting, when out of nowhere my New Year’s resolution hit me like a ton of bricks. My New Year’s resolution for this year was self acceptance. I wanted to learn to accept the things about myself, and in my life, that I cannot control. The connection between my resolution and Donna’s comment is clear. In the last 5 weeks I’ve been struggling with trying to figure out why this would happen to me. To make me more caring, understanding or empathetic? Maybe all of these things, but I truly feel that going through this tragic and devastating experience of ectopic pregnancy will help me on my path to self acceptance. It gives me a small amount of comfort knowing that I haven’t gone through this in vain. I know that I won’t miraculously accept myself overnight, but at least it’s a start.
So, I’m going to get myself a canvas and paint set this weekend. So what if my painting turns out a little on the abstract side, it won’t be the end of the world.

No, we’re not in Kansas anymore, but someday that might just be okay.

Kansas?

2009-04-08T06:17:00.000-07:00

I've never actually been to Kansas. But it's the first phrase that I thought of when I came out of the fog, about a week after surgery, and started writing my thoughts.

Can't I click my heels together three times and be transported back to 5 weeks and 1 day ago? I read a series of questions on Glow in the Woods yesterday. One of them really got me thinking... Imagine being able to step back in time and whisper into the ear of your past self the day after your baby died. What would you say?

I don't really know how to answer that question yet, but it's got my mind turning for now.

In less heavy matters (or maybe more heavy!)... I went to my new yoga class last night. I should have known this wasn't going to be my typical power yoga session when I walked in and the room was filled with middle aged overweight women. Ding Ding Ding, Collect your mat and proceed to the treadmill!!! But I didn't, I stayed thinking maybe with the recent surgery this would be more my pace now.... We breathed for 25 minutes. I'm all about breathing and connecting breath with movement, but there was more breathing and very little movement. I'm going to need to get my heartrate above 75 BPM in order to feel like I've actually done something.

I thought about cancelling out of the class, but I think the change of pace might not be a bad thing for me. It might force me, for an hour a week, to just let go. Plus, when I have my next surgery, I'll need something at a much slower pace again. So, inhaling and exhaling I go, all the way down the yellow brick road.

We're seeing our psychologist again today. We've seen her once, 3 weeks after the surgery. We both liked her. I'm looking forward to the session today. A lot has gone on in the last 2 weeks, from going back to work, my best friend having her baby, and my FIL moving back to town. They should each have their own post!

I also want to talk to the psychologist about my spending, which has drastically increased since the surgery. Some people over eat, some people are alcoholics, I've been shopping. I know my bank account does not have an endless balance, so it can't last forever, right? Funny thing is that when I buy something it only makes me happy for a few minutes. But at this rate I'll take what I can get. A little is better than none. I am interested to see what the psychologist has to say about it though.

I did have a ring custom made. I just got it a few days ago. It's aquamarine (March's birthstone). I figured it would be more reliable than planting a tree (hello, what if the tree died? or we move?). As if a piece of jewelry could replace a baby. Anyways, it came out great, I love it, and it makes my heart happy.

I feel like I need a hobby. I was thinking about taking up painting. But then I think, what if I suck at it? And I can't take the risk of failure. The price is too high right now. We'll see. Maybe something else.

I'm also having my blood drawn again today. The pregnancy hormone should be back down to zero by now, which is what they've told me the last 2 times I've had it done. It's okay though, anything to avoid the methotrexate injection.

Sometimes it all feels like a dream. Like it couldn't have really happened. I think that feeling has to do with being at work and around people that don't know about it all. I find myself continually replaying it in my head so that I don't forget. Like if I don't focus on it all the time I'll forget about it all together. Needless to say, I've been having a hard time focusing on work. I didn't sleep well last night. I haven't been sleeping well for quite a while. I'm exhausted and unmotivated today. I talked to my mom on the way in to work this morning. She called to see how I was doing. Before we hung up she said she wanted me to know that she hasn't forgotten. I started to cry. I'm starting to cry now thinking about it.

We get our own day!

2009-04-07T13:43:00.000-07:00

I found out today Congress has given a day to Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness, October 15th.

I'm headed to yoga. I just started back up again yesterday. So far so good. I may post more later...

Playing catch up

2009-04-07T13:39:00.000-07:00

Never in a million years would I have imagined the chain of events that have happened in my life in the last couple months. I'm sure some of you can identify.

Here is my story...

DH and I started seriously TTC in October 2008 - We began doing BBT's to try to track ovulation.
January 23, 2009 - Saw my Dr. Her advice was to begin taking Clomid. Took the perscription home, but needed more time to think about it.
January 26, 2009 - I began having break through bleeding, which actually is pretty normal for me. I didn't think much of it. until it lasted for weeks. It would get bad every few days, and then slow back down again. This should have been my first warning sign that something was wrong.

February 7-14, 2009 - DH and I go on a much needed cruise to the caribbean. It was so nice to get away. Still having heavy spotting on and off through this time.

February 18, 2009 - At work I had severe pain in my right side. Just to the right of my belly button. I thought I ate something that didn't agree with me. But it was a pain I'd never had before. It lasted about 30 minutes and went away.A couple of days later I had the pain again. It lasted for about 30 minutes again, then went away. This continued every couple of days for about a week. The bleeding still continuing.The next week the pain was increasing in intensity and in frequency. By this time I was having pain every other day that would last for approx. 4 hours at a time. Nothing would make it go away. It was excruciating. But I had no pain scale to compare it to. I've never broken a bone, stitches, or even a cavity. The bleeding still continuing.

February 27, 2009 - By this time I was having pain all day everyday. At this point I KNOW something is wrong. But I think it's intenstinal because the pain is so high in my abdomen. I thought for sure I had picked up a bacteria or something from my vacation.

March 2, 2009 - My grandmother passed away. She lives 90 minutes from my home. I knew there was no way I could travel that far away from my home for the week without knowing what was going on. But I'm not sure if I should call my regular dr. for intestinal problems, or my gyn for the bleeding.

March 3, 2009 - I decide to call my gyn, because I know that the bleeding is not normal by this point. I never should have let it go on this long. My gyn tells me to come in the next day at 11am.

March 4, 2009 11am - I go to my gyn appointment by myself. I'm thinking maybe she'll put me on an estrogen supplement to get the break through bleeding under control? Maybe the pain in my side is my appendix? I'm clueless. She takes down all my symptoms and does a pelvic exam. The pelvic exam has me in complete agony from pain. With my feet still in the stirrups her nurse taps on the door. My urine test came back positive for pregnancy. I immediately become hysterical because I know something is wrong. She tells me we'll do an ultrasound and figure out what's going on. I call my husband and he comes right over.He didn't make it in time for the ultrasound. I went in a hysterical mess. This isn't how I was supposed to find out I was pregnant. This isn't how my first ultrasound was supposed to be. This isn't how my first pregnancy was supposed to happen.My biggest regret is that I didn't look at the ultrasound. I was too hysterical. Now I wished I had. The ultrasound showed that the baby was 6cm, that the tube was on the verge of rupturing, and that there was a blood cyst next to the baby. I was between 7 and 8 weeks.
12:00pm - My husband arrives after the ultrasound and we go into my dr.'s partner's office. She said that my Dr. is at the hospital and I had to meet her there to have emergency surgery. I'm still hysterical. She explains everything to us, but it's like I'm in a haze and I have no idea what's going on. She says that I shouldn't even be walking around. And I'm signing waivers for pregnancy termination, tube removal (if necessary), ovary removal (if necessary), blood transfusions, etc. It was all so surreal. I couldn't even process it.

1:00pm- We arrive at the hospital, get brought to a private room, and prepped for surgery. My parent's arrived shortly after. I am still hysterical, DH is terrified. They give me the maximum amount of morphine that I can take, it doesn't even touch the physical or emotional pain. They give me antianxiety meds for the surgery. By that time, I'm only coherent enough to know things are bad. And I wonder if I'll die. And I wonder if I die, if I'll know that I'm dead. And what would it be like.
A few hours later I wake up in the recovery room and find out the surgery went as well as it could have. She did not have to take my tube or my ovary. She chose not do a blood transfusion because of the risk associated with it. I was run down, severely anemic, and exhausted.

My doctor explained that I had ovulated normally out of the left tube. When it was fertilized it couldn't implant in my uterus because of the endometriosis. She said that it became too heavy to impant and was pulled up into the right side where it implanted in my right tube. I have no idea how she could tell all of this from the surgery.She said there was so much blood in my pelvis that she couldn't do anything about the endometriosis in that surgery. I will have to have another surgery before TTC again to remove the endometriosis. That surgery is scheduled for June 11, 2009. I have so many worries and anxiety about TTC again. But I know that is a bridge we won't be able to cross until we get to it.

Let's get it started

2009-04-07T13:33:00.000-07:00

It's been 1 month and 3 days since my world turned upside down. I'm starting this blog with the intent that it will be theraputic for me.

In being what I've been through I've become so frustrated with trying to find people who share similar experiences. It's been so difficult. I hope someday someone who needs to find someone like I do will stumble across this blog.

But even if no one reads this, at least I'll get my thoughts out. It will be sort of a journal for me, hopefully a record of progress someday.

The first page in my 3 ring spiral notebook, my makeshift journal of sorts, was a list of things I'm grateful for. I made this list on March 11, 2009.