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Places to Go:
The boat has arrived. Captain is here.
I am a bit annoyed by how it arrived, or really I should say when. You see Captain Von Trapp and his seamen were not scheduled to arrive at this port until tomorrow morning. So imagine my surprise when Charlie and I went out to get the mail around 2pm and there, sitting at the front door was THE BOX. Heaven knows how long the little guys were sitting outside waiting. Grumble, grumble.
According to the enclosed directions I am not allowed to remove Captain Von Trapp’s submarine vessel from the box. This saddens me a bit as I had planned on dressing the submarine up in many outfits to inspire. Besides- who doesn’t want to dress up the tank?
And as is the way with planning, I am still not quite near ovulation and am fretting that it won’t happen within the 7 days that the Captain can survive. Oh the angst.
And here is me calmly pushing the anxiety out of my body. Breathe in calmness, breathe out worry lines. Breathe in fertility mojo, breathe out bricks of self doubt.
I have parked the submarine in the dining room for now- just for a quick show and tell for Mother. Later tonight I will bring him upstairs and whisper sweet nothings and talk a little dirty. You know, just to let him know what’s coming.
Let the countdown begin…
Love is in the world!
Operation “Get me my tartan boots!” is in the works. I will keep you all posted whether you want updates or not. This is seriously the coolest thing. I will try to dig up some old photos of me in my original tartan docs. I wore them EVERYWHERE. I even wore them to my high school graduation & was almost not allowed to march.
Some other good news- while I do not think that I am knocked up, I am pleased to report that I made it to 13 days past ovulation without a period. My average is 10 days so 13 is quite nice. It certainly means that the progesterone did its job. I’ll test for the last time tomorrow - but my gut tells me that it will -.
& now for some REALLY good news. Please go meet the newest addition to our blogosphere! The gals over at Insane Animals have an update!
(& for some interactive fun- we can play “consult the oracle of word verification“. Look deeply into the scrambled letters & see if it will give us any insight into what tomorrow’s test will be.)
Because I couldn’t wait…
I tested this morning. So instead of saying it was negative I will say that it did not yet indicate a positive.
I’m a bit early on the testing at just ten days past ovulation. But I did one of those dumb early morning negotiations: If my temperature was above 98.4 then I would test. It was below then screw it. So when the digital thing beeped & the reading was 98.62 I went all apeshit & optimistic.
Then I realized that I didn’t have to pee as I vaguely remembered getting up to pee around 3am. (after having the most fucked up dream about being a new student in a high school for gifted students. Been having fucked up dreams since I started progesterone - so I think it is no mystery on that.)
Then I realized that I only had one stick of one brand of test: First Response. Not a fan. Just because. But I pissed on the wick just the same.
I need to go out get some cheap-o tests for tomorrow’s early morning negotiations.
At least I had a great help with distractions yesterday. Dr. Molly & I went to a double feature. The first flick was The Lake House. I had high hopes as the script was by one of my favorite authors, David Auburn. It was a good chick flick. I’m sure it is destined to end up on the TnT movie rotation with You’ve Got Mail and Serendipity and I will end up watching it every time it comes on.
The 2nd movie was Prairie Home Companion. If you are not familiar with Robert Altman’s work then you may be a bit surprised. It is not so much a movie, but a character piece. There are some scenes that are genuinely lovely. But more often then not I was aware that I was watching CINEMA and a lot was just over the top.
But I tell you the previews in front of both movies looked good! The new Woody Allen looks to be a fun, zany caper. & The sundance movie, Little Miss Sunshine, just makes me wish I could fly to NYC to watch it at the Angelika and munch on their amazing natural popcorn.
(phantom) Symptom Roundup!
Ok all you cowgirls, cowboys & cowgrrrls- it is 7 days since I (hopefully) got knocked up. I have been sorta kinda not so crazily obsessed this go. The best thing was tossing my thermometer as the last thing I want to do is start my day with an “oh shit! My temperature is down!”
But since I am going the progesterone rocket route I am loving all of the NEW (phantom) symptoms & I thought I would share them with you. (& I also want to hear yours of course)
1. I am so fucking hot! Sure it is summer in Alabama. But I’m a pale chick- I don’t do the great outdoors unless the sun has set or a cold front is blowing through town. So inside my house, where I keep the temperature at 70 degrees (remember- I have an old lady that needs to stay cool as well) I am BURNING UP. I can not cool the fuck down. I’m drinking ice water like I drank zima when I was a freshman. Gulp, gulp, gulp.
2. My skin has never looked better. I have cystic acne that likes to party down on my jaw line. The only thing that helps keep it at bay is a pill that would give my unborn extra digits and no internal organs. So I have been off the acne sauce for well over a year and my face has been a pizza pie. (& yes, I have heard that having adult acne in your 30’s bodes well later on: oily skin now = less wrinkles later on. I don’t care. I hate acne!) But the past week my skin has been pretty amazing. (but just to keep it real- pretty amazing on my face is like 3 zits when I usually have 10)
3. My coffee started to taste fucked up. This was a BIG deal. I pride myself on being a coffee snob. I drink at least 2 bowls of the stuff a day. & calm down- it’s decaff. I have been on decaff (or a 1/2 caff when I am on my period) for close to 6 months. I found a brand (St. Ives in Georgia) that has an amazing (you’d never know!) decaff. But three days ago it started tasting awful. I figured I must have made a bad batch. But the next day it was awful again. It tasted like I was drinking acid metal. I happened to find a coupon for a new brand of Folgers (ugh) that advertised itself as being smooth & good for “sensitive stomachs”. So I gave it a try this morning & wouldn’t you know- it tastes great. Me, the coffee snob, considered the folger’s cup amazing. Clearly something is wrong with me.
4. I just want to nap all the live long day. This morning I woke up tired.
I could go on with the sore boobs & sore back - but I’d say that 98% of my (phantom) symptoms are progesterone induced. But it has been kind of nice to feel something different this cycle. I’ve been at this trying phase for so damn long that anything that is off kilter makes me happy.
I’ll have my photo up tomorrow. I have a tomato pie in the oven. mmmmmmm!
Smelling Roses
As we all know the next two weeks here at Erstellen are going to be an insane roller coaster of emotions, hormones and heat indexes. I have decided to compile a very random list of things that I am going to savor for the next (hopefully) 13 days. I bitch & moan about a lot of things, but then I am amazed over the simple things that make me so happy. So in honor of those simple things I present you with:
Random List of Things that Make me Happy
- 1) I love the SMELL of the sprinkler running in my yard There is something so 1979 about the scent of pine trees, wet grass, & cold water being shot through the air. It immediately makes me want to drink out of the hose. Something I used to be quite fond of. mmmmmm… the taste of plastic in the summer.
- 2) I love Heluva Good Bodacious Onion Dip. It is, as the packaging often reminds you, bold & spicy.
- 3) I love buying artichokes & pineapple in this town as the check out girls ALWAYS say, “Wow. Nobody ever buys these things.” & then I feel hip.
- 4) I love the cd clubs. I am in two (I’m such a whore!). Seeing music in your mailbox is pretty thrilling. All the new bands! All the themes! I just love that somebody out there designed a mix exclusively for taking a bath to.
- 5) I love cold Fresca. I hate the new can design.
- 6) I love the fact that BBC America is airing all new shows this summer. I just watched the 2 hour premiere of HEX last night & am already hooked. Witchcraft, British Boarding School? Yes please.
- 7) I love that I have worn flip flops every day for well over the last month. But I do hate the funky flip flop jam that one must scrape out between the toes each night.
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I love A.M. Homes & I am (so far) loving her new book. But the reviews are not so fab. - 9) I love my new toys. ahem. yes, THAT kind of toy. How have I been surviving as a single gal this long without such a thing is beyond me. It’s like converting from 8-track to dolby surround 8-disk cd changer.
- 10) I love that Jenny McCarthy & Jim Carry are dating.
- 11) I love my new thermal curtains. They not only keep the across the street neighbors out of my bizness they are also keeping the temperature in my often too hot room nice & cool.
- 12) I love the smell of hot coffee & air conditioner. I also love the smell of my GM’s lingering perfume in a room.
- 13) I love that, on a whim, my Mother planted a tiny eucalyptus plant in my front yard & now it is TALLER than the house.
- 14) I love taking cool showers at the end of the day.
- 15) I love netflix. I am now in the middle of Tales of the City & it is making me wish I lived at 28 Barbary lane.
Bloat Bonanza! (updated)
In a little over 5 hours I will be getting knocked up. (how’s that for positive thinking?)
However, the amount of current discomfort I am in is insane. I’ve bitched about bloating before, but in comparison I was being a wimp. Now, today, right this very minute, I have the biggest most bloated gut ever.
So the big dilemma is what the fuck can I wear today??? I can get into my fat jeans but buttoning them up hurts like a mofo. (I’m the genius who decided to do the trigger shot right under the belly button.) It’s looking like I may have to wear the lounge pants. Yes, the ones that so famously turned my ass & toilet seat blue.
Of course I have since washed the lounge pants, but I have not yet tested them for dye transfer issues. So my question is comfort vs. Potential smurf?
Oh hell, I’m going to wear them. I honestly don’t think I can wear anything else until this bloat goes away.
Hopefully Churchill is having a nice, forward motility, wash and getting ready to get to work. It’s almost showtime!
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Just got back home from the clinic. I think I ovulated on the way up there, either that or I didn’t take enough gas-x this morning. It could go either way…
Tomorrow I will share with you the most bizarre satellite radio playlist ever- very apropos for the day. But once again it completely freaks me out that Sirius radio is so in tune with me. I finally did see that commercial about Sirius and the girl who thinks they are beaming into her head. There may be some truth in that. Let’s just say when have you EVER heard Paul Anka’s “Having my Baby” on the radio within the last 20 years?? & then today, just as I was pulling into the parking deck for the clinic it starts to play.
Everything went as well as one could hope for. Churchill did great. 37 million post wash and they managed to get 80% forward motility. Atta boy. My champ. I am, as my gals in Oz say, all squirtie up the clacker.
I was officially the last IUI for my soon to be graduating RE so there was a small crowd in the room with us. He got to use all of his new material on me:
Me: man, 12th IUI. It’s like I am graduating. You should get me a diploma.
RE: well let’s get you a certificate (wait for it) a BIRTH certificate.
ha. Coming soon to Nevada, my very clever RE. I’m sure he’ll clean up in Reno.
So now it is just the fucking wait. Hopefully, thanks to my black market progesteroni, I will actually have a two week wait as opposed to the 10 day wait.
it has started
That obsessive listening for something, anything that will reveal the answer to a question. THE question. You know, the, “am I knocked up or what?” question.
I’m trying to distract myself. I baked a fabulous loaf of banana bread. I created a photo book for Mom to take on her trip. I burned a road trip cd for her. I pledged every wood surface in the house.
But really, all that is rumbling around in my brain is that question.
That fucking question.
I have been hitting this site as if it was crack. Not that I smoke crack. Anymore. ok, ever. But you know what I mean. I have that restless leg syndrome, except it’s in my head. Restless head.
And I am having a bit of Sad Eve. The day before I get extremely, punch to the gut, ugly cry sad. Mom leaves tomorrow, people. In less than 24 hours I will be all alone in a house with a woman who tells the same four stories over and over. This is truly new & scary territory for me. No take backs on this, I will be a true, and full time care-giver. Me.
Where did my life go?
And am I pregnant?
Do you think one glass of wine (or two) would be ok?
My Anniversary
Yesterday, as I helped my Mother pack, she asked me how I was feeling. It took me a minute (literally, a full minute) to understand what she was asking. We’ve been so caught up with her move and related family drama that I hadn’t spent an enormous amount of time vocalizing a minute by minute account of every sensation in my uterus region.
I told her, in an all too familiar speech, that I didn’t think it had worked. That I didn’t feel any different. That my morning temperatures weren’t as pretty as they could be. & besides, didn’t she see me eat half a bag of ruffles? Clearly a PMS sign.
We continued packing for a while, a James Taylor cd crooning from her bedroom & ripped packing tape the only sound.
Then she said, “I hope you don’t give up.”
I said, ” Well there is nothing more I can do for this cycle & I figured I should call it quits for a while.” I then went into my prepared speech about how I was sick of my body looking the way it did. How I was hating feeling like a person who was only the sum of her female parts. How so many people had started being vocal about how my not getting pregnant must be some sort of sign.
She listened to me and nodded as if she was agreeing and maybe understanding. The she said, “That’s bull shit you know. You aren’t getting pregnant because you aren’t getting pregnant. That is all. There is no sign in that. Do you really want to quit? Because I don’t think you do.”
Damn that woman can see right through me.
I don’t want to quit. Fuck, I don’t even want to take a break. I just figured I would have to. I want to keep on trying until it happens. I want to be a Mom. & if I give up it’ll never happen.
I spent a good part of last evening looking over new potential donors. I’m not going to quit.
So bet you are wondering where the anniversary comes in to play. One year ago I had my first meeting with my 1st RE. I would have seen her sooner but I had to make sure this fancy water parasite I had picked up in Africa was really out of my system.
In honor of my anniversary I am going to share with you my journal entry from a year ago. This was a journal I had started with the idea that I would give it to my child when they got older. I stopped writing in it after my sixth failed cycle as no kid needs to see how angry and bitter their Mom is capable of getting. However, I am hoping to get some of that wide eyed enthusiasm that I had in those first few months back.
April 20, 2005
9:02am
I’m in an exam room waiting to meet Dr. D and begin this process. I am such a nervous wreck! But I am trying to look busy and nonchalant. You know, like I do this sort of thing every day.
8:35pm
I’m still processing the day so I better start writing it all down.
For starters I had no idea what to wear. I know it is a silly thing to dwell on, but I just didn’t know what sort of environment I was going to be entering & I wanted to project something (not sure what that is!). I considered my hot pink sundress, but then didn’t know if that would look too flippy. Jeans were ruled out as I didn’t want to look too casual. I finally settled on some navy gaberdine trousers and a white, short sleeved linen shirt. And of course my black Chucks. Wait, I must have had on my black trousers as I doubt I would have risked a navy pant/black shoe scenario. As for jewelry I had on the ruby cross, clip on earrings that belonged to M [great-grandmother] 0 the silver squares with turquoise bits. Yes your Mommy really does invest this much energy on how she looks. But I promise never to take so much time getting ready that you are late for school.
Your Grandmother (she is still debating what you should call her) dropped me off while she went to park. I was a bundle of nerves. After all of our family’s various health needs I had become familiar with every floor and almost every department of the clinic. But this department- the fertility one- was one I had never been in.
Now I will confess, and I am not exaggerating about this, as soon as I walked through the doors this beautiful sense of calm swept through me. My nerves were replaced with excitement. Then the seriousness of the moment overwhelmed me and I could barely steady my heart.
Your Grandmother finally joined me and she kept trying to make jokes to calm me down. Dr. D walked in and at first seemed so professional. We went through my cycles and my history. She looked at the many months I had been charting. We talked about starting immediately or waiting a month to run some blood work and genetic tests. Well I am NOT in a rush. I will take every test I need to. I just know when you are ready everything will fall into place.
I had a quick physical exam with a routine female exam then it was to the lab where I had 8 vials of blood drawn. And that was it for the appointment.
But I must tell you I was very afraid of being judged by the doctors today. But Dr. D. made me feel so normal and welcome. I even cried a little when we all talked about how tall you will be.
For the rest of the month I have to pee on these little sticks in the morning to see if I am ovulating. When I start to surge I will call a nurse and then I will go in for another exam.
Next May, if all my tests come back normal, then we will begin conception. I can’t wait for that. Just thinking about it makes me so happy. My brain is full thinking about all the things to come: thinking about your name, what you will look like, if you will be a boy or a girl. You will be born into such a great family. And do me a favor, don’t ever ever (EVER!) think that you were not wanted and planned, prayed for, and hoped for. There are so many people that are waiting to meet you.
Photo Friday & the 11th IUI
The above photo was an attempt to take an arty farty picture of my dark eye shadows. They are naturally dark, but this look had some help from some left over eye makeup. So goth.
The deed is done. My 11th IUI. Now all I need to do is sit back, relax, and get knocked up.
ha!
Today’s RE visit was different. For starters it was the first time I had ever gone without my Mom. (today is a DAR day so somebody had to get GM ready and to the meeting on time.) I was feeling kind of blue about going alone, but then my phone rang & I had company!
[Thank you Sarah for sharing your good news with me, and for being a friendly voice on a day when I needed support.]
So I got to the clinic twenty minutes early and sat in the waiting room with a bunch of men. Weird. They all looked sheepish & uncomfortable. Poor dudes. I plopped down next to the least shrinking of the shrinking violets and dug into my latest Entertainment Weekly magazine. Suddenly the guy next to me says, “cool shirt.”
Well yes, I know that. My shirt does rock. I found the vintage Guy Smiley shirt on line last month & was saving it special for today. But I was getting a bit freaked by the idea of conversation with the random guy in the repro endo waiting room. After thanking him for liking my shirt he then scooted over so he could read what the magazine had to say about the new Superman.
um…this is my dance space & that is your dance space. back off.
I scooted further away from him hoping he would get the very clear, “I don’t want to talk to you” mojo I was sending out.
But no. He really wanted to chat.
“How long have you & your husband been coming to the clinic? My wife & I just started.”
I didn’t think he needed the “I’m a single gal” discussion, so I gave him just a simple answer: one year. (HOLY FUCK!)
I could tell he really wanted to talk but then (luckily) my name was called. Now I actually feel badly for the guy. I hadn’t put much thought into how taxing this process could be for a man.
But enough about the waiting room. You want to know about how the IUI went down. oh yes you do!
For starters the numbers were shit. My donors have never had anything below 25 million. Not that you really need more than that one sperm, but for cripes sake, I had really taken those high numbers for granted. Today’s vial had just 12 million. It was low enough that the nurse said if I had had another vial at the clinic that they would have added it to the mix.
Then there was the drama with my cervix. She SO did not want to be messed with today. When she finally did show herself she was in a tilted position. Silly cervix. After a change in speculum and a tilting of my hips into some sort of kinky yoga pose the catheter easily went in.
& while I appreciated the nurse going slowly I did not appreciate her saying, “we better make sure we get every last drop.” You just hush about Guy Smiley. He did the best he could.
Luckily I didn’t have an audience today. Thank you holiday weekend. & luckily I could stay in the room as long as I wanted without feeling guilty that I was hogging it from other people waiting for their IUI’s.
I tried really hard to focus on fertile thoughts but my mind kept wandering. Each time I would try to visualize my getting preggers some random thought like, “I wonder if Publix is selling hot cross buns today?” would pop into my head. I really missed not having my Mom with me holding my hand. I never had a problem keeping baby on the brain with Mom around. But leave me alone in a room & it might has well have been a dental appointment.
So please send whatever fertile vibes you have to spare to my female parts. I think I may really need them.
Photo Friday: Get your Snack On
I must confess that this new snack obsession is a new one. I have done a Folger’s swap & switched all my horrible (meaning really good, but bad for me) snacks with gum. I figured if I stuffed enough gum in my mouth that it would eventually retrain me.
Or something like that.
Plus I would have been kind of embarrassed to share with you photos of my true favorite snack. I can deny attachments to the South all day long, but when you get one look at scoop fritos covered in pimento cheese spread…well the jig is up. I might as well whistle Dixie.
Fritos are one of the most truly satisfying things ever. I will confess to even eating them accompanied with a fabulous and expensive glass of wine. As if they were on par with Northern California grapes.
I also have this thing for wheat thins. I could eat an entire box & not even know it.
& it is that very thing that has forced me to get a grip on my snack issues.
Not sure if watermelon gum is the solution, but for now it’ll do.
As for the uterus update- well I am at 9 days past ovulation / IUI and my temp dropped. I don’t believe in the concept of an “implantation dip” so I am getting ready for the inevitable: my period. fucking shit damn crapalation.
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