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Places to Go:
In 7 days I will get tanked.
Can you believe that I forgot to call the sperm bank yesterday? I even had a post-it note on the frame of my imac and I didn’t notice it until 5 minutes ago. Doh!
Well as a side note: yesterday was a bit crap. As is the norm here, sadly, the day after a great day is always a shitty day. It is probably a combination of fatigue and confusion from a change of routine, but the day after GM’s birthday was a mess. Luckily I feel very secure in one of the life lessons I am working on: let it go. There was once a day where, if GM was in a foul mood, I would go into this frantic hummingbird overdrive to FIX it. I would flit about offering love and fancy lunches and by the time GM was off to bed I would be empty.
Now I just let it be. Bad days fucking happen and it is unnatural to expect someone to be up all of the time. Seriously- this being ok with things is kind of thrilling. Suddenly I find myself not scolding my heart when it flits with hope and I am not as stressed about things in general. If GM needs to sit in her chair and be cranky at the universe then so be it.
So I called to order the delivery of Captain and it was a bit more comical than I would have imagined. For starters this bank is the only bank (out of the three that I have dealt with) that seems to ONLY have men answering the phone. Do you have any idea how freaky it is to talk sperm with a dude?
The first time I called (way back when I was scrambling to make something happen last cycle) I became accutely aware of how uncomfortable I was saying the word “sperm” to the person with a penis on the other end of the phone. This cycle I decided to just own it. I mean literally, I will be owning sperm, so why not own the word?
I wonder how many other women call and, upon hearing a decidedly male voice on the other end, get uncomfortable. So for all of those ladies I OVERused the word as much as I could.
You are welcome. Sperm!
Captain Von Trapp will be on a plane on August 20th and is set to arrive on August 22. (also known as cd12) I am a bit nervous about selecting this time, but I am just going to let it go. I’ve done the charting and based on that I feel ok about cd12. um. I hope.
Man in a can ordering
Today I am going to attempt (in between GM’s nap schedule) to order some man in a can. I have narrowed down my selection to two young donors and I am hoping that someone at the bank has some inside, wink, wink, input to help break the tie.
To be honest with you guys I don’t care about much any more when it comes to the donor. I know I should, & I know if I get knocked up I will care massively, but right now I am being so horribly ho-hum about it all. Don’t get me wrong, I still scour the donor profiles with a fine tooth comb. But maybe I am faster with my search as I have been through this process before. This will be my fifth sperm donor. I’m such a slut.
The deciding factors are coming down to two things: height vs eye color. Both are important to me in the most narcisistic way. I am tall and I have very blue eyes. I want my kid to have those traits as well since I kind of dig ‘em. But I haven’t found a great tall blue eyed donor. I have found a medium height blue eyed donor and a tall green eyed donor.
So what is more ‘meaningful’? I almost think I can get over height but I don’t know if I can get over blue eyes. When I look at my eyes I feel a link between myself and my GF. But what if my blue eyes are dominant- are they always? Then who cares about the perfect donor having green eyes. And are green eyes so bad? My Mother has them and they are stunning.
(Mother is, of course, totally pulling for Mr. Green.)
I’ll let you know what I decide at the end of the day.
UPDATE #1:
Holy Quarantine! Pick A and Pick B just went unavailable as they veg out in a cool, dark room awaiting disease checks. My back ups, Pick C and Pick D are also effing quarantined! Fuck. Just got a list e-mailed to me of all avail NOW donors with two cross referenced traits. Will spend some time mulling now.
UPDATE #2:
sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet! A donor that I had on my original list is actually available. As I am only ordering 3 vials I was able to get this guy. He is Pick C and has height and blue eyes. He was shafted to third place on the original list based on something random that is so silly that I feel I must share so you can see how nuts I can get when it comes to this stuff. You see, Pick C (who will now be known as Captain Von Trapp) has blue eyes and blond hair. And for some reason the idea of picking a blue eyed/ blond donor made me feel all ichy in a specific way. I know, ridiculous, but there you have it. I have nothing against blond/blue people, it just made me pause to even gravitate towards that. If you know what I mean.
So now let us all rejoice- Captain Von Trapp will soon be sailing my way with (hopefully) a fine crew of seamen. (because really, that is all that I give a shit about. )
It’s oh so quiet…
Ah…summertime lull in the blogosphere. Honestly I get a little sad when the lights on bloglines are dim.
I know that quite a few of you are going through some stuff: there is sadness, and birthdays, and first insems, and important scans, and injectable meds, and road trip IVF’s and waiting to test and waiting to ovulate and waiting for the kids to go back to school. I am thinking of you all…even those of you choosing not to post about it.
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Things are quiet in my neck of the woods. I just finished reading book 6 and am about to begin book 7. I don’t know how you guys find the private time to read. Just rereading book 6 was tough. I didn’t want to read during the day when GM was awake because it felt like I was shutting off from her. I didn’t want to read once GM was in bed as then I would be shutting off from time with Mother. So that leaves sneaking in thirty minutes here and fifteen minutes there. The only relationship that is suffering is the one I have with Jon Stewart. Seriously- why couldn’t I have decided to reread book 6 last week when Jon was on vacation?
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Speaking of timing…I got my official notice from the sperm bank that my paperwork is officially going through their official system and that I would get an official call when I was officially able to purchase official sperm from them. It will officially be at least a week before I should call them to place an order. sheesh.
I am actually glad to have some time to plan for my F.H.I. (frivolous home insemination). And when I say “plan” what I really mean is not stress. I am all about zen and the art of home insemination. There is a massive part of me that wants this to work so that I can stick it to the (R.E.) man. I don’t need your stinking clinics! I don’t want your injectable meds and dildo cams. I’m taking charge and doing it myself. The 8 year old stubborn girl is really surfacing now.
(& of course I know full well that it won’t work and that I will ultimately need to have IVF…but it’s nice to pretend that I could be lucky)
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Does anyone watch Miss Marple on PBS? They just had 2 awesome episodes on Mystery and I can not recommend them enough.
Is anyone watching Top Chef on Bravo? I can’t figure out who I am rooting for.
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Is anyone watching the dramas on Lifetime? Side Order of Life and State of Mind? I’m a total sucker for female driven stories and am pleasantly surprised by both shows. I will confess that I had very low expectations for both so perhaps my enjoyment was easily had.
Side Order of Life was advertised as a show about a woman stressing out about her upcoming wedding. It is really a show about a woman dealing with her best friend being diagnosed with cancer. State of Mind was advertised as a silly show about how your shrink is crazier than you are. It is really a show about a woman who loses herself once she finds out her husband is cheating on her.
I will not say that these are awesome shows. I will simply say that if you find yourself gravitating towards the chick-lit section of your local public library then you will probably find something to amuse yourself within these shows. I really am glad that Lili Taylor has a job. But I wish it was on a network show with network writers. Side Order of Life just touched on some fertility issues and my stomach turned…but I am hoping they don’t go there again.
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Am I the only one thinks that nightclubs need to be held responsible for some of the out of control drinking going on with young celebs? Not saying that the girls aren’t responsible for their own crimes…but seriously, stop allowing and celebrating underage drinking. It freaks me out. Someone needs to read Postcards From the Edge and Little Girl Lost.
Freaks
Lesson learned of the day: do NOT attempt to find a source of sperm on the internet that is not from a reputable sperm bank. I am actually embarrassed to tell you all of the things I did today on line all for some free man juice. Honestly it would make you blush. But just so you know I did turn down the sweet offer from a crazy, stunted man in the pacific northwest. His offer? If I would deflower him I could keep the sperm. um, no thanks.
I have a sort of silly reason for being a bit on the verge right now: I want to be able to say that I did and tried it all. So there. I’m a delusional Pollyanna. I know it, so no need to get smarmy about how doing anything other than IVF at this point is a complete waste of time and funds. I know. I effing know.
And to tell the truth I hesitate to even tell you this next bit. I desperately want you all to think I am a great clever girl, and there is a huge risk that once you find out something you will think I am quite, quite stupid.
So here goes: if I were to magically have some sperm cha cha with my egg/s and if they somehow managed to mingle in a way that got me knocked up my due date would be April 23rd.
ok. ok. ok. stop yelling at me. It is riDICulous to get so sentimental about frickin due dates. But it just so happens that this little estimated due date discovery is on the heels of months of fidgeting and spazzing. I mean you guys have seen it- I am all over the place with planning back burner options. I know in my gut that if I am ever going to get pregnant that IVF is going to be the route for me. Let’s be real- I’ve had 13 failed IUI’s. I need some medical intervention.
But people it is going to be ages until I can afford it. Ages. And I am tired of just twiddling the thumbs.
And so after a day of doing ridiculous searches for something that should not be searched for in a flippant way (fresh sperm) I have decided to go out on a limb and try this month with frozen.
Suddenly I feel like a fricken newbie. I’ve never done a home insem. I haven’t used an OPK in almost a year, forget about temperature charting. I am going to fly by the seat of my ovaries and just spend some mad cash on a chance. This has like 1 - 2 percent chance of working. I am nuts for doing it. But I just am.
I’m buying a lottery ticket here and I am fully aware of the odds, but silly me is allowing herself to be just a smidge hopeful. It won’t work. We all know it won’t.
Here is how I am really looking at it: in a year (or so) as I am nursing my blue eyed baby and working on the book about getting knocked up I will now be able to write a chapter on home insemination. Not saying aforementioned blue eyed baby would be a result of a home insem, but I’ll know that I went into IVF having tried almost everything. There is odd satisfaction in that.
Just a hypothetical…
If you were going to post an ad looking for a fresh sperm donor what would your ad say?
#4: The Chosen One
It is with great excitement and ridiculous enthusiasm that I announce that I have found lucky donor #4.
After days of searching banks all over the world (no joke) I found my ideal candidate sitting in a bank one state over. To my shock the people at the bank could actually tell me stuff about the donor. My previous bank kept the money & the vials separate so whenever I would coyly ask, “So his donor #___ handsome?” I would get this canned, “I wouldn’t know ma’am. We are not in the same building. Will that be paid with a Visa?” For many reasons I had started to not be a fan of my original bank. The free toaster had begun to loose its gleam and well, none of their guys seemed to work for me.
The new bank, so far, seems so eager to help. So invested in my success. Not only were they able to tell me detailed info about the donor (well detailed in my asking what part of the nation he was from) but they were able to give me so much more. I was told how many births (very different from how many pregnancies) and of those births how many were boys & how many were girls. I was told how sweet he was. & in a whisper I heard the words I really needed to hear, “We all think he is hot!”
Thank you very much, I will take 3 vials.
Without further ado I present Churchill, my new donor. So named because of #4’s expressed interest in Politics and journalism. & because as much as I wanted to name him Beaker, I just couldn’t.
Sperm Mate + Poll + Theme
When it comes to men I have eras of being extremely picky and times when I was pretty foolish. I will confess that I have never been in adult love. I have been infatuated, obsessed, turned on, & hopeful - but never the full on deal. I’ve never been swept off my feet. A few have tried, but I’m a big gal & it isn’t so easy to hoist me up. I am an Amazon female in all senses. Not only do I walk the earth six feet above the ground, not only do I have feet bigger than the average man, not only are my jeans larger than most men that I have dated, but I am loud, outspoken, opinionated. I was raised a feminist by a feminist and the man that will be my partner will be just that: a partner. Co in everything. I am only submissive when I want to be.
My dating resume includes, but is not limited to:
1) Making out with anonymous boys in the church parking lot
2) Making out with anonymous boys on road trips
3) Having awful crushes on ugly boys
4) Having intense crushes on gay boys
5) Having an affair with a woman
6) Having sex at the Turkish Bath house
7) Dating a semi-famous musician 
On-line dating
9) Googling an ex, contacting ex, having sex with ex
10) Things too embarrassing to mention
So to put it mildly- I am a bit of a dating disaster. When I had a great (but abused) body I lacked the self esteem to go on the prowl. Now I have self esteem but lack the body. But I still consider myself a sexual being. Even though it has been two years since I last had sex. (awful on-line dating disaster) I wish with all of my might that I was in a happy, healthy relationship. But I have this vague notion of the kind of love I want & it isn’t something you troll a bar for. It isn’t something that you rush.
I know you are wondering what all of this has to do with how I select a sperm donor, but I get so many e-mails from polite strangers asking why I have given up on men. Why I would want to start a family alone. Well I don’t. But I am, if nothing else, basically pragmatic. For all of my lofty ideas & silly talk - I am, to the core - realistic. The reality is that I don’t know where my mate is. I don’t know when I will find that person. I’m ready to have a family now.
I have used three different donors & am currently looking for lucky number four.
I started looking online for donors about two years ago. I approached it almost in the exact same way that I approached on-line dating. I went strictly by the notes in the staff impressions. If it was noted that the donor was attractive or had a specific attractive feature I wrote down his profile number. That first round I had a list of ten. From there I started weeding out by ethnic background. I am Irish, English & German & that first round it was very important to have a donor with that makeup. I figured if anything I would be able to paint a background of the donor that emulated mine. There was some sort of odd security in that.
So of the ten three made the 2nd cut. Then it was time to be very, very picky. I wanted a donor with my eye color, I wanted a donor with some height. In a sense - I wanted me.
In the end I wasn’t able to get the donor I first wanted. So I went with my second choice and convinced myself I was really excited about it. He didn’t have blue eyes, but he had red hair! I would have a red headed child for sure. & in his baby picture he looked just like GM!
Well donor #1 didn’t pan out. Three cycles later & I was ready to move on. & to be honest I never felt that enthused about him.
The selection for donor #2 was a lot easier. I maneuvered through the donor search engines with amazing speed. Give me height, give me blue eyes. No whammies! Immediately a donor attracted my attention & it was the first time I paid any attention to things other than physical characteristics. (shame, shame on me.) He had a science background but also expressed interest in the arts. His donor essay was clever and funny and he wrote well about his family. His baby picture was adorable & he got nicknamed Leif. Leif had rock-star numbers. Each IUI day the sperm techs would comment on how amazing his count was. I had a lot of faith in Leif. So much so that I used him for tries 4 through 8. Ironically the musician for which he was nicknamed after had a falling from grace around the same time as my affections with the donor waned.
Finding donor #3 was emotional. One of my best friends, after much soul searching, had offered to be my donor. This would have been my ideal. It was something that R. & I had joked about at University all the time. We fantasized sharing a townhouse in Park Slope. He would live on the first floor & I on the second. He would be free to date any boy he wished & I would be free to date anybody that offered. We would eventually use a doctor to have kids and raise them to be the most wonderful peace, love & harmony babies you could ever imagine. We were going to be Will & Grace before NBC had ever heard of them.
Unfortunately the dream of having R. be my donor ended with his HIV diagnosis several years ago. R was always stoic about how the disease had changed his life. But he mourned Fatherhood deeply. When I was just thinking about getting a new donor R called me with insane excitement. He had met a doctor that promised he could “wash the HIV from his sperm”. I was wary, but I will admit that my heart fluttered at the idea. I even called my RE to inquire about the process. (My poor RE who tries so hard to handle my outspoken ways had an audible gasp when I asked about the HIV wash.) Turns out such a wash is considered illegal in the states. It is only currently being performed in France but exclusively for straight, married couples. I then got the speech about how Gay Men were not allowed to be donors unless they were celibate. yadda, yadda, yadda
Breaking the news to R was devastating. But I know that it was the right thing. Even if we had been able to wash his sperm I don’t think I would have been ok with subjecting R to the emotional anguish of each new cycle. It is hard for me, a healthy woman, it would be cruel for him.
It was with R in mind that I went in search of donor #3. Instead of looking for someone like me I restarted my search looking for someone like him. R is of nordic decent with dimples and thick blonde hair. He also has an insane obsession with Game Shows. I found a donor that matched him physically & then almost peed in my pants when I read in his donor essay about how he was on the same game show that R was on when he was a child.
So #3 was a tribute donor. R and I nicknamed him Guy Smiley and talked about the future kid’s life of cash and prizes.
But I lost my love for Guy after his counts were consistently sub par. I felt that I had picked him for the wrong reasons. It would have been great if it worked, but each time it didn’t I questioned why I was using him.
Now I am on a quest for #4. I am employing all new search criteria. In other words I am going to look at the whole package. But first - I will only look at donors with my blood type. I know that may have nothing to do with compatibility: people with different blood types fuck & have babies every day. But I need to have something different to give me renewed hope. I’m also going to ease up on the height standards. Hell, I’ve got enough height to hook the kid up if it wants to be a super model or basketball champ.
One thing I find myself being adamant on is blue eyes. This is where my true narcissism shines. For my entire life I have gotten complements on my eyes. They are the exact same shade as my Grandfather’s. There was always something about being able to see myself in them & him in me. I really want that with my kid. I want her to be able to see herself in me so that there is no doubt that we belong together.
I have three donors in mind & I will decide within the week who the lucky champ will be. I need to look closely for that special ingredient that shines. The thing that whispers to me, “This is what the Universe was waiting for.”
& yes, I am quite guilty of romanticizing my sperm donors. Not in a pervy way. & not in a way that I imagine us together.
It is much like how I hope for a soul mate. I am also hoping for a sperm mate. The charmed one that will have all the right ingredients to help me create my child.
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Next week’s theme will be: reflections - could be literal reflections in mirrors or puddles or ponds or metaphoric - a photo that reflects on something
This theme is courtesy of last week’s winner, Art-Sweet.
grover is blue too
grover
Originally uploaded by Calliope1.
So I am still down in the doldrums, can’t put myself in a “happy place” to save my life. Whatever. You know sometimes you just have to feel it and live it to get through it.
Shit. I sound like a running shoe commercial.
But that makes sense, right? Forcing myself to cheer up and be positive would be dangerous and unfair. So I refuse to do it. I’ve got my cell phone turned off and the shades pulled down. Time for decompressing.
& For those of you hanging on the edge of your seat regarding this cycle, well you can take a break. My morning temperatures have taken a three day nose dive. [For all you nonchart types, you know the ones thinking, "huh? Temperature?" Allow me to translate: I am not preggers.]
It is time to switch donors. I wonder if this is why I never could keep a boyfriend - the moment the dude disappoints he is replaced. But I resent Guy Smiley donor for not coming through. I don’t care if it is my deviled eggs that are to blame, I’m still blaming him.
So now the hunt is on for a new donor. I have three in mind but no clear champ. This is way more nerve wracking than doing match dot com, but I am just as ruthless. Maybe tomorrow I will walk you through my process. Or maybe not.
In the meantime I will share with you something my Mother e-mailed me that has continuously made me laugh. Except when the clip is over I go back to being sad. Go figure.
There is a new link on the right that says ‘Grover says hello’. It is an audio link, but it isn’t pervy. (Grover could never, ever be pervy.) But it is Grover saying hello to you and I dare you not to smile. I double dog dare you.
Shhhh…Do you hear that?
That is the sound of 58 million sperm rushing to the golden egg(s).
This morning I had the smoothest IUI ever. No wait in the waiting room. No wait in the IUI room. And Nurse P. did the honors and was in & out before I even realized it. sha-zam!
The traffic on the way home was sparse and the Big 80’s station I listen to played all the songs that I like.
I am, once again, a passenger on the S.S. Optimism and hope to stay there for a good long while.
Expensive Day in Vagina-ville
This day has been way more nuts than I ever intended for it to be.
For starters I had major fax issues & had all sorts of problems getting the prescription for my new meds faxed to me. What worked? I smacked the shit out of the machine & threatened to pull the plug. And wouldn’t you know the machine began to churn to life.
Of course I let things get too far down the wire and wasn’t able to take advantage of ordering meds from overseas. (I need to start injectables on Saturday & the overseas place couldn’t get me the juice until Monday.)
After shopping around at 8 different mail order places I found the best deal…a whopping $714 for my stuff. Shit fuck holy crap that is a lot of cash. I’m still at the age where I automatically equate the cost of things to rent money. So even though I don’t currently pay rent it is easy to look at the cost of injectable medications & exclaim, “Damn! That is two months of rent for a 1 bedroom apartment in Park Slope circa 1997!”
The drug of choice, for those of you with you interested, is repronex: a follicle stimulating hormone extracted from the urine of postmenopausal women. So I may get a bit pissy. (bwah ha ha!) In all it will be 14 vials of 75IU. I’ve always been curious about the life of a junky…
In other breaking news: I have a new potential baby daddy. I was going to use a different bank, but after somebody I know had issues with low sperm count I figured why chance it when I know my bank has such good guarantees? Since I am going for unwashed this time (will let my clinic do their fancy washing for me) I actually had more options at way lower costs.
I felt very drawn to one donor but he wasn’t an ethnic match at all. I think he would have made a good boy fling for me though. & then suddenly there he was: My guy! I’d never seen his info before as he was only available unwashed (ok, seriously giggling about some of this terminology) but he so made sense for me.
We are similar in background as far as ethnicity - but he brings a French card to the table. He is into all the standard things these guys say they are…but I tell you what cinched the deal for me was his answer on the questionnaire to the question: What is the funniest thing that ever happened to you? He basically revealed that, as a child, he & his family were on double dare. YES! That crazy kid oriented game show where families have to sit in goop or answer trivia. I tell you my game show loving heart just warmed. Plus the staff impression said he looked like ‘Brad Hamilton’*.
So the lines are now open for Name that Donor!
I am currently toying with Guy Smiley…but that makes me kind of feel like I am cheating on my main muppet, Grover.
*FYI- If you know who I mean by that keep it to yourself. It’ll be our little secret.
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