Yay!!!! It's been about a week since I've had K in bed with me.
He's had a minor cold and we decided to try to prevent me from getting it. We're really afraid of them cancelling the cycle if I show up sick at suppression check or something.
So he spent a couple of nights on the couch. When a few days went by and he didn't get horribly sick, we decided to move him back into the bedroom, but not the actual bed. We've had air mattresses set up below the foot of the bed and he's been sleeping on those.
It's confused the hell out of the cats, let me tell ya. But we've found that the 2 boy kitties will sleep with me and the 2 girl kitties will choose to sleep with him. Hmmmm, maybe I should reconsider this desperately wanting a girl thing.
He's feeling decent today and we're pretty sure that the period of contagion has passed. Yay! I'm gonna get some snuggles tonight! Among other things!
In other news, we're starting to get concerned that my depression might be coming back. It's really hard to tell since I've been hormoned up pretty constantly for the last 4 months or so. But I'm really feeling like a failure in life, a waste of space, hopeless, and here's the real signal - I'm having trouble thinking. It's like a cloud surrounding my brain making it difficult to concentrate, comprehend what's going on, or just generally being a smart person.
If this IVF round doesn't work, I think I'm going to take 2 months off to get the hormones out of my brain. Then I should be able to tell if my brain is coming back, or if the depression truly has set in. If it has, I'll need to call my shrink (whom I haven't spoken to in about 3 years now) and look at getting onto some meds that won't destroy a potential future fetus.
On the professional front, it looks like my piece work job might not work out. Now that I'm up to standard production speed, I've been crunching the numbers and it's just not adding up to even minimum wage. I have a meeting with my boss on Monday to reassess how this is working out and to see what we can do to make it beneficial for both parties to have me keep this job. But the more I crunch the numbers, the more I just can not make them work. I really like the boss, I really like the actual work itself, but unless she can pay about 3x what she's paying now, I simply have to leave this job and find something else. Maybe she knows something about what she's able to pay that I don't know and I'll be pleasantly surprised when we talk on Monday, but I'm fairly pessimistic.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 29, 2011
And I was having such a nice day
Met with a fellow blogger today for coffee.
Honestly, I only intended to hang out for about an hour because I've got work to do, but I don't get the opportunity to talk in person very often, so I kept her at the table slightly longer than that. I'm not sure she would choose to hang out with me again (though I hope she does) because, well, I'm not a very cheery person and I had a little trouble allowing her the time to get a word in edgewise. I have so many stresses from so many different directions right now, and the only person I talk most weeks is K, and it's kind of pointless to unload on him sometimes because he's in the middle of the same stresses I'm under. So when I suddenly had an audience, one that understands what my last couple of years have been like, I'm afraid she got buried in my verbal diarrhea.
I hope this is just my social anxiety talking and she enjoyed hanging out as much as I did. But just putting it out there that I recognize the reasons why she may not have.
So that was lovely.
I got some work done tonight, so that was nice.
K got home and was too tired to cook so we hit McDonalds. I got a milkshake with my big mac meal. Hey, my weigh-ins are over! Don't judge me! So that was fun.
Logged onto facebook. And suddenly, I'm not having a nice day anymore.
You see, a couple of girls in the classes behind me in high school (that were a part of my social group as fellow drama geeks), when I first got on facebook, I watched their first pregnancies progress into babies. But that's when we were only kind of starting to TTC so no big deal. One of them gave birth to her second (in a year!) a couple of weeks/months (I lose track) ago. And tonight, the first thing looking out at me on my facebook page is the ultrasound for the other girl.
I'm no longer just the last one on the track, I'm being lapped.
Dear high school buddy who had her tubes tied,
At this rate, you might be the only person left on my facebook wall when the time comes for me to post an ultrasound. Thanks in advance for never having any surprises that might make me feel like crap. You are now forgiven for having a better career in my chosen field than I do.
Sincerely,
Failing from all directions
Honestly, I only intended to hang out for about an hour because I've got work to do, but I don't get the opportunity to talk in person very often, so I kept her at the table slightly longer than that. I'm not sure she would choose to hang out with me again (though I hope she does) because, well, I'm not a very cheery person and I had a little trouble allowing her the time to get a word in edgewise. I have so many stresses from so many different directions right now, and the only person I talk most weeks is K, and it's kind of pointless to unload on him sometimes because he's in the middle of the same stresses I'm under. So when I suddenly had an audience, one that understands what my last couple of years have been like, I'm afraid she got buried in my verbal diarrhea.
I hope this is just my social anxiety talking and she enjoyed hanging out as much as I did. But just putting it out there that I recognize the reasons why she may not have.
So that was lovely.
I got some work done tonight, so that was nice.
K got home and was too tired to cook so we hit McDonalds. I got a milkshake with my big mac meal. Hey, my weigh-ins are over! Don't judge me! So that was fun.
Logged onto facebook. And suddenly, I'm not having a nice day anymore.
You see, a couple of girls in the classes behind me in high school (that were a part of my social group as fellow drama geeks), when I first got on facebook, I watched their first pregnancies progress into babies. But that's when we were only kind of starting to TTC so no big deal. One of them gave birth to her second (in a year!) a couple of weeks/months (I lose track) ago. And tonight, the first thing looking out at me on my facebook page is the ultrasound for the other girl.
I'm no longer just the last one on the track, I'm being lapped.
Dear high school buddy who had her tubes tied,
At this rate, you might be the only person left on my facebook wall when the time comes for me to post an ultrasound. Thanks in advance for never having any surprises that might make me feel like crap. You are now forgiven for having a better career in my chosen field than I do.
Sincerely,
Failing from all directions
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Glee - Don't You Dare
All right Glee, you're treading on some dangerous ice there.
Oh I know, you think that you're so supportive of everyone. So inclusive. So sensitive. So sticking up for the underdog.
Without even realizing it, you have thrown every infertile/potential adopter under the bus already. Wanna know how you did it? Here ya go.
At the end of season 1, you introduced the character Shelby, Rachels birth mother. They met, she realized that she wanted her baby and not this teenager so they decided not to become a part of each others lives, but rather enjoy a distant knowledge of each other. Fine. Really, that's fine. I have to imagine that when a birth parent comes into the life of an adopted child, that's pretty much how the adoptive parents would hope it would go. They could know each other, but there's no question as to who the childs parents really are.
But that's not all. You had Shelby give a passing comment about how she can't have anymore kids. Within 1 episode of her deciding that she wants to raise a baby, Quinn gives birth and hands her daughter over to Shelby.
SLAP!!!!!!
That's not how it works!
Seriously? Quinn hadn't thought about WHO should she would hand her child to until she was in labor? WTF? And Shelby couldn't have done a home study because as soon as she had the kid, she ran off to be an actress in New York. Seriously, what adoption agency is going to say "here failed actress who's going to run off to another state to try to be a failed actress again without anyone to assist with raising the baby while you try auditioning in the most competitive job market known to man, have this baby!"
But okey dokey fine. You give us this bullshit happy resolution. Quinn fits back into sexy clothes, a competitor of the glee club takes the baby away, and everyone is happy.
And here we are, beginning of season 3. Shelby is back in town with the baby and seeks out the parents so they can be a part of her life. Pshhhhh. Yeah, I highly doubt that, but fine, we'll go with it.
The way you're handling Puck is actually pretty awesome. I mean, we had to jump through a lot of suspension of disbelief to get to this scenario, but once we're here, yes, I do believe that's how a father would act when faced with figuring out how to keep enough arms length so as to not spook the mom, but still get as much of the baby as possible.
But what you're doing with Quinn. Writers, fuck you. Seriously, from the heart. Fuck you with every rusty cheese crater found in the fields of Wisconsin.
Quinn is one of the heroes so I'm pretty certain you intend for us to root for her. And what do you do? You have her tell the mom of her child that she isn't Beth's mom, that Quinn will always be.
To reiterate, fuck you.
And then, you have her clean up her act as a rouse so that she and Puck can sue to regain custody of their daughter. And because these are the characters we've been watching for a couple of seasons, there's reason to believe that they are actually going to succeed at some point. And even if not, they are going to put Shelby through complete hell.
DON'T.........DO........THAT.
It takes years to get someone who is about to give birth to choose you to be the parent. And every adoptive parents worst fear is that someone is going to come and take their baby away and they will be absolutely powerless to stop it. Quinn is not that baby's mom, Shelby is. And if you even DARE to try to send the message that that's not the case, once again, cheese graters, I will gather them and deliver them myself.
You've smacked the infertiles once. Twice when we realize that you did it because it wasn't even on your radar enough to consider that maybe you should be somewhat sensitive to the issue. So we're both slapped, and invisible.
I'm not an adoptive mom. You wanna know why? Because anyone who would put themselves through the hell of the adoption process in this country is fucking extraordinary. I'm not that extraordinary. I'm putting myself through an entirely different hell because I fear that the adoption hell is 1000 times worse than this. Maybe one day I will be that extraordinary.
But if you smack every one of those extraordinary parents in the face by writing a story where their worst fear in life comes true and then they are just written off the show, la dee da, never to be thought of again with the audience cheering for their tormentors, FUCK YOU.
Oh I know, you think that you're so supportive of everyone. So inclusive. So sensitive. So sticking up for the underdog.
Without even realizing it, you have thrown every infertile/potential adopter under the bus already. Wanna know how you did it? Here ya go.
At the end of season 1, you introduced the character Shelby, Rachels birth mother. They met, she realized that she wanted her baby and not this teenager so they decided not to become a part of each others lives, but rather enjoy a distant knowledge of each other. Fine. Really, that's fine. I have to imagine that when a birth parent comes into the life of an adopted child, that's pretty much how the adoptive parents would hope it would go. They could know each other, but there's no question as to who the childs parents really are.
But that's not all. You had Shelby give a passing comment about how she can't have anymore kids. Within 1 episode of her deciding that she wants to raise a baby, Quinn gives birth and hands her daughter over to Shelby.
SLAP!!!!!!
That's not how it works!
Seriously? Quinn hadn't thought about WHO should she would hand her child to until she was in labor? WTF? And Shelby couldn't have done a home study because as soon as she had the kid, she ran off to be an actress in New York. Seriously, what adoption agency is going to say "here failed actress who's going to run off to another state to try to be a failed actress again without anyone to assist with raising the baby while you try auditioning in the most competitive job market known to man, have this baby!"
But okey dokey fine. You give us this bullshit happy resolution. Quinn fits back into sexy clothes, a competitor of the glee club takes the baby away, and everyone is happy.
And here we are, beginning of season 3. Shelby is back in town with the baby and seeks out the parents so they can be a part of her life. Pshhhhh. Yeah, I highly doubt that, but fine, we'll go with it.
The way you're handling Puck is actually pretty awesome. I mean, we had to jump through a lot of suspension of disbelief to get to this scenario, but once we're here, yes, I do believe that's how a father would act when faced with figuring out how to keep enough arms length so as to not spook the mom, but still get as much of the baby as possible.
But what you're doing with Quinn. Writers, fuck you. Seriously, from the heart. Fuck you with every rusty cheese crater found in the fields of Wisconsin.
Quinn is one of the heroes so I'm pretty certain you intend for us to root for her. And what do you do? You have her tell the mom of her child that she isn't Beth's mom, that Quinn will always be.
To reiterate, fuck you.
And then, you have her clean up her act as a rouse so that she and Puck can sue to regain custody of their daughter. And because these are the characters we've been watching for a couple of seasons, there's reason to believe that they are actually going to succeed at some point. And even if not, they are going to put Shelby through complete hell.
DON'T.........DO........THAT.
It takes years to get someone who is about to give birth to choose you to be the parent. And every adoptive parents worst fear is that someone is going to come and take their baby away and they will be absolutely powerless to stop it. Quinn is not that baby's mom, Shelby is. And if you even DARE to try to send the message that that's not the case, once again, cheese graters, I will gather them and deliver them myself.
You've smacked the infertiles once. Twice when we realize that you did it because it wasn't even on your radar enough to consider that maybe you should be somewhat sensitive to the issue. So we're both slapped, and invisible.
I'm not an adoptive mom. You wanna know why? Because anyone who would put themselves through the hell of the adoption process in this country is fucking extraordinary. I'm not that extraordinary. I'm putting myself through an entirely different hell because I fear that the adoption hell is 1000 times worse than this. Maybe one day I will be that extraordinary.
But if you smack every one of those extraordinary parents in the face by writing a story where their worst fear in life comes true and then they are just written off the show, la dee da, never to be thought of again with the audience cheering for their tormentors, FUCK YOU.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Growing list of snarky comebacks
We all hear the rude comments. We all wish we had just the right come back in mind when those comments are said to us.
So now, I present to you:
The Growing list of Snarky Comebacks!
You tell me a comment (email me or in the comments of this post) you heard that you want a really snarky comeback for and I'll write you that comeback. You score 5 internet points for every comeback that you actually have the balls to say in person! Check back often for more comments and comebacks! I'll get us started.
Have you ever thought about adopting?
Comeback 1) OMG! You mean that's actually an option???? My life problems are solved! Thank the heavens you thought of that!
Comeback 2) I called Babies R Us, but they were out of stock this month.
Comeback 3) You mean people actually give away children that they don't want? I can't believe I wasn't given away before I hit the age of 3!
Just relax and it will happen.
Comeback 1) I can not believe that my team of doctors who went to medical school for a decade and has been studying how to make babies for several more decades never recommended that. I don't know why they would open a fertility clinic if they could have just been giving out massages all this time for the same results.
It's all a part of God's plan.
Comeback 1) Any god that would drain the resources of someone who wants to provide for a child while giving a child to people like the cast of Teen Mom, that my friend, is one sick son of a bitch!
Comeback 2) Apparently the plan is to ensure that every human being experiences a whole lot of misery.
Comeback 3) Anyone who would mastermind this kind of misery sounds like those abusers on Jerry Springer with a bunch of bitches whining "But I luuuuuuuurrrves hee-um!"
Comeback 4) Thank you. I'm officially converted to Atheism now.
Just have more sex!
Comeback 1) You are so right. I'm such a prude.
Comeback 2) Is that an offer?
You've been married a while now, shouldn't you be having children already? Tick Tock you know!
Comeback 1) How far up does your tampon go? Oh, I'm sorry. I had assumed by your question about my plans for my crotch that all crotches were appropriate dinner conversation.
Comeback 2) Well, so far, I've had 2 dead babies, 3 embryos that didn't take, 1 embryo sitting in a freezer, and my body is currently being injected with hormones on a daily basis to create more embryos and potentially more pregnancies. But I'll see what I can do to hurry things up for you!
*Courtesy of Eggsinarow* Are you guys thinking about kids? It's pretty much time!
Comeback 1 as provided by EIAR) No, we can't. We have white carpeting, and clean up is a bitch.
Well, maybe your miscarriage was a blessing in disguise.
Comeback 1) Scariest Halloween disguise EVER!
Comeback 2) Very true. Nothing says "blessed" like a dead baby. Oh wait, I have 2! Lucky, lucky me!
Get over it already! It happens to a lot of people.
Comeback 1) So does cancer. I really wish those bald whiners would shut the hell up already!
So sound off in the comments everyone. What is your most hated yet common line? We'll keep populating this list until it's huge!
So now, I present to you:
The Growing list of Snarky Comebacks!
You tell me a comment (email me or in the comments of this post) you heard that you want a really snarky comeback for and I'll write you that comeback. You score 5 internet points for every comeback that you actually have the balls to say in person! Check back often for more comments and comebacks! I'll get us started.
Have you ever thought about adopting?
Comeback 1) OMG! You mean that's actually an option???? My life problems are solved! Thank the heavens you thought of that!
Comeback 2) I called Babies R Us, but they were out of stock this month.
Comeback 3) You mean people actually give away children that they don't want? I can't believe I wasn't given away before I hit the age of 3!
Just relax and it will happen.
Comeback 1) I can not believe that my team of doctors who went to medical school for a decade and has been studying how to make babies for several more decades never recommended that. I don't know why they would open a fertility clinic if they could have just been giving out massages all this time for the same results.
It's all a part of God's plan.
Comeback 1) Any god that would drain the resources of someone who wants to provide for a child while giving a child to people like the cast of Teen Mom, that my friend, is one sick son of a bitch!
Comeback 2) Apparently the plan is to ensure that every human being experiences a whole lot of misery.
Comeback 3) Anyone who would mastermind this kind of misery sounds like those abusers on Jerry Springer with a bunch of bitches whining "But I luuuuuuuurrrves hee-um!"
Comeback 4) Thank you. I'm officially converted to Atheism now.
Just have more sex!
Comeback 1) You are so right. I'm such a prude.
Comeback 2) Is that an offer?
You've been married a while now, shouldn't you be having children already? Tick Tock you know!
Comeback 1) How far up does your tampon go? Oh, I'm sorry. I had assumed by your question about my plans for my crotch that all crotches were appropriate dinner conversation.
Comeback 2) Well, so far, I've had 2 dead babies, 3 embryos that didn't take, 1 embryo sitting in a freezer, and my body is currently being injected with hormones on a daily basis to create more embryos and potentially more pregnancies. But I'll see what I can do to hurry things up for you!
*Courtesy of Eggsinarow* Are you guys thinking about kids? It's pretty much time!
Comeback 1 as provided by EIAR) No, we can't. We have white carpeting, and clean up is a bitch.
Well, maybe your miscarriage was a blessing in disguise.
Comeback 1) Scariest Halloween disguise EVER!
Comeback 2) Very true. Nothing says "blessed" like a dead baby. Oh wait, I have 2! Lucky, lucky me!
Get over it already! It happens to a lot of people.
Comeback 1) So does cancer. I really wish those bald whiners would shut the hell up already!
So sound off in the comments everyone. What is your most hated yet common line? We'll keep populating this list until it's huge!
Chili-getti and Frango Pie!
I got it! Yes! I have it in writing that I have officially made the weight for egg retrieval, they will not weigh me again, and they will move forward with this IVF cycle regardless of whatever bloat pounds the meds put on my frame during the attempt! Here it is, what I have received in writing:
Hi Alex
You have been approved with proceeding with the Egg Retrieval occurring in our *fertility clinic* Surgery Center with your current weight at the start of an IVF cycle being 39.5 per our Medical Director
It is to be expected that you might gain weight during the stimulation and our Medical Director is going to clarify with anesthesia to make sure that if your weight does bump up as a result of the hormones that they will proceed with your Retrieval.
Do you all know what this means? This means it's time to share the recipes for Chili-getti and Frango Pie! If you want to be a hit at your next potluck, serve either of these. And if you need to put on weight for any reason, this is your new diet.
Due to my own laziness, you can just print this image.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Wow, and he still married me
So I'm in the birth control phase of IVF and I don't know what the hell is happening to me.
I'm emotionally all over the place! I know that Lupron kicks my ass, but I'm not going to be taking that this time. All I'm on is the pill. I don't remember ever being this emotional with such a small amount of fake hormone.
I left the TV on a Frasier marathon while I was working in the pottery studio. It's a season I didn't actually see when first run, so the episodes are new to me. Niles has heart surgery and there are vignettes of different time periods showing what has happened in a hospital in the characters lives. And my brain starts rerunning the episode of my own hospital experience. It doesn't help that this TV station is sponsored by whatever company makes those damned "A baby changes everything" commercials.
All sorts of crying as my mind pictures the various sites of being in that hospital bed and then getting butterfly tummy at the thought that I might ACTUALLY be bathing and cooing at a baby some day.
Bear in mind that I'm in the pottery studio all day because I'm doing piece work. I'm still trying to get up to speed as I'm still only earning about half minimum wage per hour. It's doing something I love, but still....
So K comes home and I follow him into the house and he's obviously irritated at the sink full of dishes. He does the majority of the housework so he has a right to be annoyed that I'm not doing my fair share. He doesn't say a thing about it to me but I still perceive him as being irritated so I say something about it. And again, I start crying.
Why you might ask? Because quite frankly, I'm really embarrassed. When we got together, I was working 30 hours a week and earning $40k per year doing it. And I put in a 9 hour day today and didn't even earn $40. I'm doing my best. I'm determined not to be a lazy housewife. Not to be someone who "works" from home, who puts in about an hour of work and then cruises the internet all day. My boss is currently behind in inventory and has said that she will take as many of these pots as I can produce. So I'm putting in 8 or 9 hour days regardless of how little money it actually brings in. At least it's SOMETHING. But I'm still completely embarrassed by what a useless waste of space I've become and I can't figure out how to change it. And I used to be really smart. I could learn anything. Now, when I try to learn something, my brain feels like mush.
So what the hell birth control pill!? You've never done this to me before.
And here's the weird thing.... I was on BCP when K and I met (trying to regulate my period). I was on BCP until we got married and started TTC. Good lord, is this what I was like that entire time???? And he married me anyway????
I'm emotionally all over the place! I know that Lupron kicks my ass, but I'm not going to be taking that this time. All I'm on is the pill. I don't remember ever being this emotional with such a small amount of fake hormone.
I left the TV on a Frasier marathon while I was working in the pottery studio. It's a season I didn't actually see when first run, so the episodes are new to me. Niles has heart surgery and there are vignettes of different time periods showing what has happened in a hospital in the characters lives. And my brain starts rerunning the episode of my own hospital experience. It doesn't help that this TV station is sponsored by whatever company makes those damned "A baby changes everything" commercials.
All sorts of crying as my mind pictures the various sites of being in that hospital bed and then getting butterfly tummy at the thought that I might ACTUALLY be bathing and cooing at a baby some day.
Bear in mind that I'm in the pottery studio all day because I'm doing piece work. I'm still trying to get up to speed as I'm still only earning about half minimum wage per hour. It's doing something I love, but still....
So K comes home and I follow him into the house and he's obviously irritated at the sink full of dishes. He does the majority of the housework so he has a right to be annoyed that I'm not doing my fair share. He doesn't say a thing about it to me but I still perceive him as being irritated so I say something about it. And again, I start crying.
Why you might ask? Because quite frankly, I'm really embarrassed. When we got together, I was working 30 hours a week and earning $40k per year doing it. And I put in a 9 hour day today and didn't even earn $40. I'm doing my best. I'm determined not to be a lazy housewife. Not to be someone who "works" from home, who puts in about an hour of work and then cruises the internet all day. My boss is currently behind in inventory and has said that she will take as many of these pots as I can produce. So I'm putting in 8 or 9 hour days regardless of how little money it actually brings in. At least it's SOMETHING. But I'm still completely embarrassed by what a useless waste of space I've become and I can't figure out how to change it. And I used to be really smart. I could learn anything. Now, when I try to learn something, my brain feels like mush.
So what the hell birth control pill!? You've never done this to me before.
And here's the weird thing.... I was on BCP when K and I met (trying to regulate my period). I was on BCP until we got married and started TTC. Good lord, is this what I was like that entire time???? And he married me anyway????
I be bill payin
This doesn't have to do much with IVF. Ok, I guess in a roundabout way it does since we didn't have a dime of debt on credit cards until we started fertility treatments.
I just paid the monthly bills. All of our accounts are getting down to small numbers and we don't have a whole lot of income on the horizon.
Having a little moment of panic.
I know that money is considered a taboo subject, but I'm gonna talk about it anyway.
Keeping up with the credit card payments every month is a struggle. I don't want to have a single late payment because we have really low interest rates (we took out several credit cards back in the day of no debt and amazing credit score). One delayed payment and our interest rate can triple meaning we'll never cut that debt down. We took out a loan from my bank (with my car as collateral) to ensure that we could keep up with all of the minimum payments for several months and now that has pretty much run out.
I've been looking at trying to get another job, but that's hardly possible when I keep expecting to be pregnant in a few weeks. How can I go into an interview and say "oh by the way, I'm going to need a few days off during my first couple of weeks for medical procedures and if those are successful, I'm going to be a total germaphobe, won't lift a damned thing for months, and will require maternity leave next year"?
Ya know, if we weren't infertile, our children would be born into a household with a modest income, but that covers the needs with a few of the wants, and a college fund. But no. Because we are infertile, our babies will be born into a household that has more debt than annual income.
Anyone know of some place where I can sell my hair or something?
I just paid the monthly bills. All of our accounts are getting down to small numbers and we don't have a whole lot of income on the horizon.
Having a little moment of panic.
I know that money is considered a taboo subject, but I'm gonna talk about it anyway.
Keeping up with the credit card payments every month is a struggle. I don't want to have a single late payment because we have really low interest rates (we took out several credit cards back in the day of no debt and amazing credit score). One delayed payment and our interest rate can triple meaning we'll never cut that debt down. We took out a loan from my bank (with my car as collateral) to ensure that we could keep up with all of the minimum payments for several months and now that has pretty much run out.
I've been looking at trying to get another job, but that's hardly possible when I keep expecting to be pregnant in a few weeks. How can I go into an interview and say "oh by the way, I'm going to need a few days off during my first couple of weeks for medical procedures and if those are successful, I'm going to be a total germaphobe, won't lift a damned thing for months, and will require maternity leave next year"?
Ya know, if we weren't infertile, our children would be born into a household with a modest income, but that covers the needs with a few of the wants, and a college fund. But no. Because we are infertile, our babies will be born into a household that has more debt than annual income.
Anyone know of some place where I can sell my hair or something?
Thursday, September 22, 2011
What do you want to talk about?
So far, I seem to not be sick. Yay!
So, I'm doing IVF again and I'm sure a lot of people browsing infertility blogs are looking for other peoples experiences. However, since I've already done this a couple of times, I just don't have a whole lot more to say about it as I go through it.
Having strangers stick a wand up my bits just isn't news anymore. Getting stuck with a needle is no longer a strange day for me. And I won't be surprised if offered a bed pan after transfer because they don't want me to sit up for a while.
So what would you guys like to know? To all of the people just finding me now as you start your own journey, what questions are you hoping to have answered? Can I offer advice to anyone, on anything? I'm a TMI kinda gal so no question is too squicky icky for me to answer!
So, I'm doing IVF again and I'm sure a lot of people browsing infertility blogs are looking for other peoples experiences. However, since I've already done this a couple of times, I just don't have a whole lot more to say about it as I go through it.
Having strangers stick a wand up my bits just isn't news anymore. Getting stuck with a needle is no longer a strange day for me. And I won't be surprised if offered a bed pan after transfer because they don't want me to sit up for a while.
So what would you guys like to know? To all of the people just finding me now as you start your own journey, what questions are you hoping to have answered? Can I offer advice to anyone, on anything? I'm a TMI kinda gal so no question is too squicky icky for me to answer!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Germaphobia
Well, I knew that once I got pregnant, I was going to become a total germaphobe. I was a good girl during the last pregnancy, but I wasn't totally anal about it. Since I lost that pregnancy due to infection, which we don't know if it was a viral infection or what, I'm going completely and totally over the top with my next pregnancy.
But I'm not pregnant yet. But K spent most of today in bed because he felt like crap, sore throat, a nose that couldn't decide between running and stuffing. We don't know if this is a one day kind of sick, or a 3 week kind of sick. Either way, if patterns hold true, I should expect to get sick about 36-48 hours after he shows his first symptoms.
If this is a 3 week thing, that means that I'll still have it when we get to suppression check. The last time I showed up at suppression check with a cold, the doc said that maybe we should put the procedure off another month.
Ok, so that's a whole lot of if's happening there. And I'm going to do whatever I can NOT to deal with them!
We've Lysoled the hell out of the bedroom and K is banished to the baby room where we still have the guest bed set up from when we expected his mother to visit. He is instructed to Purel his hands before touching anything around here and I'm washing my hands a lot. And we're not sharing popcorn while watching TV tonight like we usually do.
I DON'T WANT TO GET SICK AND HAVE THIS CYCLE DELAYED!
So yeah, I'm now in full Pre-Pregnancy Princess mode.
But I'm not pregnant yet. But K spent most of today in bed because he felt like crap, sore throat, a nose that couldn't decide between running and stuffing. We don't know if this is a one day kind of sick, or a 3 week kind of sick. Either way, if patterns hold true, I should expect to get sick about 36-48 hours after he shows his first symptoms.
If this is a 3 week thing, that means that I'll still have it when we get to suppression check. The last time I showed up at suppression check with a cold, the doc said that maybe we should put the procedure off another month.
Ok, so that's a whole lot of if's happening there. And I'm going to do whatever I can NOT to deal with them!
We've Lysoled the hell out of the bedroom and K is banished to the baby room where we still have the guest bed set up from when we expected his mother to visit. He is instructed to Purel his hands before touching anything around here and I'm washing my hands a lot. And we're not sharing popcorn while watching TV tonight like we usually do.
I DON'T WANT TO GET SICK AND HAVE THIS CYCLE DELAYED!
So yeah, I'm now in full Pre-Pregnancy Princess mode.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
ICLW Intro
Hello ICLW'ers! For those who don't know me or where I'm at, here's the run down.
A little about me - I'm 36, and a videographer/potter in Washington State. I was making a decent living as a videographer for a while, but the jobs have slowed to a painfully slow trickle. And I feel like I can't really put any effort into my business because of the constant anticipation of either being pregnant or undergoing IVF treatments which always seem to be 6 weeks into my future. Pottery was a hobby for a while, but I've recently gotten a job doing piece work as a production potter. While it ain't bringin in the big bucks, it allows me to at least earn something, and it's completely on my own schedule.
I'm kind, but I'm not particularly nice. When it comes right down to it, I'm going to go out of my way for people, but on the surface, I often say those things that people would rather I not say.
My goal with this blog was to say all those things that for some reason people don't actually say out loud. So that one person can google an awful thought they may be having, find me, and be able to say "Oh good, someone else is as a big a jerk as I feel like I am for thinking this!"
The history:
My Early 20's - finally learn why I don't have any kind of regular cycle. I have PCOS. My fear is confirmed, it's unlikely I will get pregnant without medical assistance.
Feb 2002 - meet my husband K on Match.com. Early while we're dating, I tell him that if his own genetic babies are important to him, I'm not the girl to fall in love with because I will intend to adopt since a happy accident is unlikely. He fell in love with me anyway.
May 2005 - marry K. Toss birth control and depression medications away.
June 2005 - Sink into misery. Decide that there's only a 1% chance of me ever getting pregnant but a 100% chance that I can't really function without the bipolar meds. Continue pregnancy testing every 2 months regardless of period status so I can stop meds as early in a pregnancy as possible. This never became an issue.
Oct 2008 - jaw surgery to cure sleep apnea.
second half of 2009 - Meet with an adoption lawyer, apply to an adoption agency. We are turned down, probably because we check marked the box about requesting information about financial assistance with the adoption process. Narrow it down to 2 more agencies and drag feet on paperwork. Decide to go to the fertility clinic and finally determine once and for all what the medical situation really is rather than making assumptions I might regret.
Dec 2009 -March 2010 - all testing is done. K fails the acumen reaction test, I have plenty of decent eggs, but with the PCOS, they just aren't going to function on their own. Major relief - we are good candidates for IVF, and it's an equal problem on both halves of the equation. It's not just me. Feel bad that K has an issue too, but really, very relieved that the problem is a combination of both of us.
Go off the bipolar medications and prepare to be miserable again. But I'm fine. After several months, it's determined that the surgery that solved my sleep apnea problem also solved the root problem of the bipolar issues I had been dealing with for 2 decades. I was chronically sleep deprived. Have not had the need to go back on medications.
May 2010 - first IVF attempt. We do the first menapur injection while at my best friends baby shower that I was throwing because irony decided to time things that way. My body ejects the eggs about 24 hours prematurely and we don't make it to egg retrieval.
August 2010 - Second IVF attempt. Success! Twins!
October 2010 - firmly believe that I'm going to be a twin mom, start blogging the twin mom experience thinking it would be cool to have a blog out there that started practically from day 1.
November 2010 - near the end o my first trimester, the aforementioned best friend decides that I'm not acting happy enough about my pregnancy, that I'm not being proactive enough about my birthing plan (um, still not sure it's gonna stick bitch), that I shouldn't be a mother and ends our friendship of 4 years making sure to take as many cruel potshots as she can stab me with on her way out the door.
December 22, 2010 - Lost the girls due to a random infection and join the club of the miscarriage mamas.
January 2011 - my IVF Clinic of Pure Awesome is merged with IVF Clinic of Bureaucratic Bullshit (ICBB). Same doctor and nurse, but what used to be a team effort now feels like an adversarial relationship.
March 2011 - start an FET cycle. It's halted prematurely because my prolactin levels are elevated. This sends me to various doctors to determine whether or not I might have a brain tumor. Still not sure about that, but the medications that I'm on to reduce the prolactin levels seem to be working so either it was never there to begin with, or it's there, but managed just fine with the meds. Decide not to investigate further for the time being.
First week of May 2011 - Hell week. Anniversary on May 1, my birthday on May 2 (congratulations! You just lost 5 success rate percentage points!), we had hoped the twins would be born around midnight of May 3/4, K's birthday on May 5, day we would have induced if that girls had not already been born on May 7, Mother's Day May 8.
May/June 2011 - Complete FET cycle. We thaw 2 of our 3 "maybes", they look fantastic. Looks were deceiving. BFN.
July 2011 - begin fresh IVF attempt. ICBB decides that they can't do egg retrievals on fat girls. So even though I've lost about 20lbs since I underwent IVF the prior year, suddenly it's dangerous. They determine that I'm 5'5" despite my protests that I am in fact 5'4" and say that I'm only 7.5lbs over the weight limit. If I can get that down below 240lbs before suppression check, we can move forward. Thus I begin the diet from hell. All while on BCP and getting bloated from those mind you, I still manage to lose 11lbs in 20 days. I show up for the consultation before we start stim meds (the day before suppression check), weigh in at 236.5lbs and they decide that oh gee, you are 5'4" and you actually have to be below 232lbs. Son of a bitch!
August/September 2011 - diet like a normal person (though still cranky that my babies are being held hostage until I lose weight as I get older and older and older).
September 20, 2011 - cycle day 5, baseline day. I weigh in officially at 230lbs. YES!!! Nurse thinks I can scrap the diet now, but it's the anesthesiology department that has the final say. Now when I talked to them 6 weeks ago, they said I had to be below 232 at suppression check. That's still 2 weeks away. My nurse should be calling me any minute to tell me if it's official, my weight is recorded and they won't try to get me on a scale again or if I need to keep up some diligence to make sure I don't bloat up over that weight limit in the next 2 weeks.
Here I go. Fresh IVF attempt. This is attempt, what would it be now, number 6? Number 3 since I've only complete 2 previous attempts? This is probably the last fresh attempt we can afford to do so the goal is to get as many embryos on ice (after they transfer a couple) for either future attempts or a sibling for the child we hope we're creating right now. We're in the boring part of IVF, nothing to do but take BCP every night.
Wheee!!!!!!!
For all other IVF'ers out there, here's the song I've had in my head for over a month now. Thinking of singing it myself and making a music video to it. Yeah, go ahead, tell me it doesn't fit. This should be our friggin theme song!
A little about me - I'm 36, and a videographer/potter in Washington State. I was making a decent living as a videographer for a while, but the jobs have slowed to a painfully slow trickle. And I feel like I can't really put any effort into my business because of the constant anticipation of either being pregnant or undergoing IVF treatments which always seem to be 6 weeks into my future. Pottery was a hobby for a while, but I've recently gotten a job doing piece work as a production potter. While it ain't bringin in the big bucks, it allows me to at least earn something, and it's completely on my own schedule.
I'm kind, but I'm not particularly nice. When it comes right down to it, I'm going to go out of my way for people, but on the surface, I often say those things that people would rather I not say.
My goal with this blog was to say all those things that for some reason people don't actually say out loud. So that one person can google an awful thought they may be having, find me, and be able to say "Oh good, someone else is as a big a jerk as I feel like I am for thinking this!"
The history:
My Early 20's - finally learn why I don't have any kind of regular cycle. I have PCOS. My fear is confirmed, it's unlikely I will get pregnant without medical assistance.
Feb 2002 - meet my husband K on Match.com. Early while we're dating, I tell him that if his own genetic babies are important to him, I'm not the girl to fall in love with because I will intend to adopt since a happy accident is unlikely. He fell in love with me anyway.
May 2005 - marry K. Toss birth control and depression medications away.
June 2005 - Sink into misery. Decide that there's only a 1% chance of me ever getting pregnant but a 100% chance that I can't really function without the bipolar meds. Continue pregnancy testing every 2 months regardless of period status so I can stop meds as early in a pregnancy as possible. This never became an issue.
Oct 2008 - jaw surgery to cure sleep apnea.
second half of 2009 - Meet with an adoption lawyer, apply to an adoption agency. We are turned down, probably because we check marked the box about requesting information about financial assistance with the adoption process. Narrow it down to 2 more agencies and drag feet on paperwork. Decide to go to the fertility clinic and finally determine once and for all what the medical situation really is rather than making assumptions I might regret.
Dec 2009 -March 2010 - all testing is done. K fails the acumen reaction test, I have plenty of decent eggs, but with the PCOS, they just aren't going to function on their own. Major relief - we are good candidates for IVF, and it's an equal problem on both halves of the equation. It's not just me. Feel bad that K has an issue too, but really, very relieved that the problem is a combination of both of us.
Go off the bipolar medications and prepare to be miserable again. But I'm fine. After several months, it's determined that the surgery that solved my sleep apnea problem also solved the root problem of the bipolar issues I had been dealing with for 2 decades. I was chronically sleep deprived. Have not had the need to go back on medications.
May 2010 - first IVF attempt. We do the first menapur injection while at my best friends baby shower that I was throwing because irony decided to time things that way. My body ejects the eggs about 24 hours prematurely and we don't make it to egg retrieval.
August 2010 - Second IVF attempt. Success! Twins!
October 2010 - firmly believe that I'm going to be a twin mom, start blogging the twin mom experience thinking it would be cool to have a blog out there that started practically from day 1.
November 2010 - near the end o my first trimester, the aforementioned best friend decides that I'm not acting happy enough about my pregnancy, that I'm not being proactive enough about my birthing plan (um, still not sure it's gonna stick bitch), that I shouldn't be a mother and ends our friendship of 4 years making sure to take as many cruel potshots as she can stab me with on her way out the door.
December 22, 2010 - Lost the girls due to a random infection and join the club of the miscarriage mamas.
January 2011 - my IVF Clinic of Pure Awesome is merged with IVF Clinic of Bureaucratic Bullshit (ICBB). Same doctor and nurse, but what used to be a team effort now feels like an adversarial relationship.
March 2011 - start an FET cycle. It's halted prematurely because my prolactin levels are elevated. This sends me to various doctors to determine whether or not I might have a brain tumor. Still not sure about that, but the medications that I'm on to reduce the prolactin levels seem to be working so either it was never there to begin with, or it's there, but managed just fine with the meds. Decide not to investigate further for the time being.
First week of May 2011 - Hell week. Anniversary on May 1, my birthday on May 2 (congratulations! You just lost 5 success rate percentage points!), we had hoped the twins would be born around midnight of May 3/4, K's birthday on May 5, day we would have induced if that girls had not already been born on May 7, Mother's Day May 8.
May/June 2011 - Complete FET cycle. We thaw 2 of our 3 "maybes", they look fantastic. Looks were deceiving. BFN.
July 2011 - begin fresh IVF attempt. ICBB decides that they can't do egg retrievals on fat girls. So even though I've lost about 20lbs since I underwent IVF the prior year, suddenly it's dangerous. They determine that I'm 5'5" despite my protests that I am in fact 5'4" and say that I'm only 7.5lbs over the weight limit. If I can get that down below 240lbs before suppression check, we can move forward. Thus I begin the diet from hell. All while on BCP and getting bloated from those mind you, I still manage to lose 11lbs in 20 days. I show up for the consultation before we start stim meds (the day before suppression check), weigh in at 236.5lbs and they decide that oh gee, you are 5'4" and you actually have to be below 232lbs. Son of a bitch!
August/September 2011 - diet like a normal person (though still cranky that my babies are being held hostage until I lose weight as I get older and older and older).
September 20, 2011 - cycle day 5, baseline day. I weigh in officially at 230lbs. YES!!! Nurse thinks I can scrap the diet now, but it's the anesthesiology department that has the final say. Now when I talked to them 6 weeks ago, they said I had to be below 232 at suppression check. That's still 2 weeks away. My nurse should be calling me any minute to tell me if it's official, my weight is recorded and they won't try to get me on a scale again or if I need to keep up some diligence to make sure I don't bloat up over that weight limit in the next 2 weeks.
Here I go. Fresh IVF attempt. This is attempt, what would it be now, number 6? Number 3 since I've only complete 2 previous attempts? This is probably the last fresh attempt we can afford to do so the goal is to get as many embryos on ice (after they transfer a couple) for either future attempts or a sibling for the child we hope we're creating right now. We're in the boring part of IVF, nothing to do but take BCP every night.
Wheee!!!!!!!
For all other IVF'ers out there, here's the song I've had in my head for over a month now. Thinking of singing it myself and making a music video to it. Yeah, go ahead, tell me it doesn't fit. This should be our friggin theme song!
Good to go
Had my baseline this morning. 9 follicles on each side. Blood pressure is perfect. And I weighed in at 230! Yes! 2.5lbs BELOW the weight required by anesthesia!
Now my nurse said that we're good to go. No more weigh-ins, this was it, I'm moving forward.
You'll excuse me if I don't quite take her word for it yet. When I checked in with anesthesia 6 weeks ago, they said I had to be below 232 at suppression check. That's still a little over 2 weeks, and several weight gaining BCP from now. She's double checking with anesthesia and every body that could possibly have a say in this and she'll call me back with the final answer later today or tomorrow.
It's possible that my diet is officially over today. It's possible that I have to keep it going another 16 days or so.
Tell ya what, when I finally get the official, legally binding, no they can't change their minds declaration that my diet is over, I will post the recipes for Chili-getti and Frango pie. Because that's what I intend to eat! There is nothing virtuous about this meal. It's not vegan, it's not low calorie, it's not low fat, it's probably not organic. One has a whole lotta cheese and the other has a whole lotta butter and sugar. I'm going to assume that suppression check will be the final word on my weight.
Let the countdown to Chili-getti begin! 16 days and counting.
Now my nurse said that we're good to go. No more weigh-ins, this was it, I'm moving forward.
You'll excuse me if I don't quite take her word for it yet. When I checked in with anesthesia 6 weeks ago, they said I had to be below 232 at suppression check. That's still a little over 2 weeks, and several weight gaining BCP from now. She's double checking with anesthesia and every body that could possibly have a say in this and she'll call me back with the final answer later today or tomorrow.
It's possible that my diet is officially over today. It's possible that I have to keep it going another 16 days or so.
Tell ya what, when I finally get the official, legally binding, no they can't change their minds declaration that my diet is over, I will post the recipes for Chili-getti and Frango pie. Because that's what I intend to eat! There is nothing virtuous about this meal. It's not vegan, it's not low calorie, it's not low fat, it's probably not organic. One has a whole lotta cheese and the other has a whole lotta butter and sugar. I'm going to assume that suppression check will be the final word on my weight.
Let the countdown to Chili-getti begin! 16 days and counting.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Aunt Flow that Fickle Foe
Guess who came for a visit today!
Yes, my body has once again shunned all schedules and logic and decided to bleed in the middle of a provera regime designed to induce said period.
But I'm actually excited. It's weird. Maybe I just had too much caffeine this morning, but as soon as I discovered that my cycle had started, I got butterflies in my stomach and an actual "this is gonna happen!" feeling.
With my history, I'm afraid to express any hope or positive feelings out loud so I won't, cuz every time I actually feel like I'm finally going to have a family, it's taken away from me again. So.......I'm completely pessimistic about this cycle *squee!*, not gonna happen *hehe!*, no really, this is gonna be a total bust *OMG!*
I'm also nervous that for some reason, since I was only on day 4 of provera, for some reason AF showing up at the wrong time will prevent this from actually happening somehow. Half expecting a phone call tomorrow saying "nope, the provera is a bad start so we'll have to wait another cycle."
Approximate final date of weigh-in (at suppression check) - October 4
Weight today - 233.9lbs
Goal weight - 232.5
This can so happen! Oh wait, can't have hope, that jinxes it. Scratch that. This is totally gonna suck!
Yes, my body has once again shunned all schedules and logic and decided to bleed in the middle of a provera regime designed to induce said period.
But I'm actually excited. It's weird. Maybe I just had too much caffeine this morning, but as soon as I discovered that my cycle had started, I got butterflies in my stomach and an actual "this is gonna happen!" feeling.
With my history, I'm afraid to express any hope or positive feelings out loud so I won't, cuz every time I actually feel like I'm finally going to have a family, it's taken away from me again. So.......I'm completely pessimistic about this cycle *squee!*, not gonna happen *hehe!*, no really, this is gonna be a total bust *OMG!*
I'm also nervous that for some reason, since I was only on day 4 of provera, for some reason AF showing up at the wrong time will prevent this from actually happening somehow. Half expecting a phone call tomorrow saying "nope, the provera is a bad start so we'll have to wait another cycle."
Approximate final date of weigh-in (at suppression check) - October 4
Weight today - 233.9lbs
Goal weight - 232.5
This can so happen! Oh wait, can't have hope, that jinxes it. Scratch that. This is totally gonna suck!
Thursday, September 15, 2011
How I look at children
If you knew me in real life, you would probably be really shocked that I want kids so badly.
I've never been one to goo-goo over babies. When out in public, I'm the person who's annoyed by all of the annoying things that kids do rather than finding it cute. My eyes roll pretty hard when a parent can't keep a kid quiet at a restaurant. And really, I haven't been around really young children a whole lot. I'm not the person who is stretching out my arms to grab a baby relative at every family gathering.
So I can understand why some people might wonder why my day to day life is pretty much the opposite of what I really want in life.
Here's how I see it.
To me, a child is the same thing as a brownie is to someone on a strict diet. That dieter knows that ultimately, they are not allowed to eat the brownie. They will not taste its chocolaty goodness. So when they pass by the bakery window, they might glance at it and think "I'd really like to taste one of those some day." and then they quickly scuttle pass that window and they don't linger on this wonderful confection that they really, REALLY want to eat, but ultimately can not have.
And if they are forced to stand there for a moment (I dunno, maybe a friend they are with stops at the window), they will not think about all of the wonderful brownie fudginess, instead they will focus on the fact that some idiot decided to put walnuts in it (who does that? Who messes up a big square of fudgy goodness with this bitter, tooth breaking thing?), or how it looks pretty dried out. They will concentrate on all of the reasons why they don't really want that particular brownie anyway.
What a dieter certainly does NOT do is go inside that bakery, hold that brownie in their hands, take a deep lungful of all of the bakery smells, and suck in every bit of the bakery experience they can without actually eating anything.
Would they enjoy the smells of the bakery if they allowed themselves that experience? Oh absolutely. But it would make the fact that they can't eat the brownie all the more heartbreaking.
And since I've known since I was a teenager that I was destined to be an infertile, I've never gone inside the bakery and taken a good strong whiff. I have kept myself on the outside of that glass, noticing the walnuts, and the dried edges. Occasionally I will allow myself to acknowledge that yeah, I do want that brownie, but no, I won't indulge in the partial experience of going inside without actually being able to purchase.
Until I'm certain that I will be someone who will get to eat the whole brownie, I will continue to roll my eyes at bratty kids in the grocery store, focus on all the diapers I don't have to change, and smugly indulge in sleeping a solid 8 hours.
And when my own kid is in my arms, I'm sure my entire persona will change and I'll be scarfing down every brownie in sight (both literally and metaphorically).
I've never been one to goo-goo over babies. When out in public, I'm the person who's annoyed by all of the annoying things that kids do rather than finding it cute. My eyes roll pretty hard when a parent can't keep a kid quiet at a restaurant. And really, I haven't been around really young children a whole lot. I'm not the person who is stretching out my arms to grab a baby relative at every family gathering.
So I can understand why some people might wonder why my day to day life is pretty much the opposite of what I really want in life.
Here's how I see it.
To me, a child is the same thing as a brownie is to someone on a strict diet. That dieter knows that ultimately, they are not allowed to eat the brownie. They will not taste its chocolaty goodness. So when they pass by the bakery window, they might glance at it and think "I'd really like to taste one of those some day." and then they quickly scuttle pass that window and they don't linger on this wonderful confection that they really, REALLY want to eat, but ultimately can not have.
And if they are forced to stand there for a moment (I dunno, maybe a friend they are with stops at the window), they will not think about all of the wonderful brownie fudginess, instead they will focus on the fact that some idiot decided to put walnuts in it (who does that? Who messes up a big square of fudgy goodness with this bitter, tooth breaking thing?), or how it looks pretty dried out. They will concentrate on all of the reasons why they don't really want that particular brownie anyway.
What a dieter certainly does NOT do is go inside that bakery, hold that brownie in their hands, take a deep lungful of all of the bakery smells, and suck in every bit of the bakery experience they can without actually eating anything.
Would they enjoy the smells of the bakery if they allowed themselves that experience? Oh absolutely. But it would make the fact that they can't eat the brownie all the more heartbreaking.
And since I've known since I was a teenager that I was destined to be an infertile, I've never gone inside the bakery and taken a good strong whiff. I have kept myself on the outside of that glass, noticing the walnuts, and the dried edges. Occasionally I will allow myself to acknowledge that yeah, I do want that brownie, but no, I won't indulge in the partial experience of going inside without actually being able to purchase.
Until I'm certain that I will be someone who will get to eat the whole brownie, I will continue to roll my eyes at bratty kids in the grocery store, focus on all the diapers I don't have to change, and smugly indulge in sleeping a solid 8 hours.
And when my own kid is in my arms, I'm sure my entire persona will change and I'll be scarfing down every brownie in sight (both literally and metaphorically).
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
The Unchosen
Big post today guys. A post I've had in my head for years but haven't had the guts to fully write. But today, I can't seem to get the thoughts of it out of my head and they have been attacking me full force. Some old wounds have reopened and I'm realizing just how much they never healed, but rather they were ignored. And I'm afraid to write some of these words because I'm afraid that everyone reading them will end up with the same question about me that I've been forced to have about myself.
What is it about me, what is so fundamentally wrong with me that no one will choose me to be a mother?
I'm terrified that these next IVF attempts won't work. And it's not because I so desperately want to have my own biological child. Honestly, the only benefit in my mind to having a child that is biologically mine is because if there are medical emergencies in the future, my husband and I can donate whatever body parts that child might need. Yes, I want to feel what it's like to have a baby kick inside me, and to see a mixture of my husbands and my face staring at me from a high chair, but those things are so unimportant in the bigger picture.
I never thought I would try to grow my own. I've always known that I would have trouble conceiving and I decided early on that I would never put myself and my husband through all of this debt and emotional roller coaster just to produce a child. I was always firm that I would adopt. Spend those resources on a child that was already in need of parents.
And then we started filling out the paperwork. We applied to one adoption agency and were turned down, probably because we checkmarked the box saying we would want more information on the financial assistance available. And so we started filling out the paperwork for 2 more agencies when we decided to really learn what our options were in the grow your own arena. And we learned that there aren't nearly as many kids in need as we thought. There are far more parents who want children than there are children who need parents. Frankly, hubby and I look really bad on paper. We aren't rich, I have mental illness in my health history (depression issues that are no longer a problem), and we aren't Christian.
We would have a better chance of actually raising a child, and it would be less expensive, to go through all of the IVF than to rely on being able to convince some scared, pregnant woman to let us raise her child.
And the final decision came down to one fundamental belief - no one will ever choose me.
But here's the wound that hit me so deep that lead to that fundamental belief.
A few years ago, when we first moved back to the Seattle area to be near family after a 10 year absence, my brother and his wife had their first child. As they wrote out their will, they asked me if K and I wanted to be named guardians should something happen to them. Of course we said yes. And a few days later, my brother told me that we were off the hook, they decided on someone else.
Out of a very short list of candidates, my brother decided that I wasn't the person he would choose to be a mother. If my SIL sibling were someone who wanted children (he actively does not want to be a father), I would understand if they chose her sibling over the fathers sibling.
My brother witnessed what the "mental illness" in my health history means. And he's someone who should know that while it looks like crap on paper, the truth of it isn't bad. He's the one person who was raised by the example of parenting that I will most likely follow. If anyone on this earth should have true knowledge of what kind of mother I could be some day, it should be him. His understanding of what kind of mother I will be is deeper than even my own husbands. And he didn't choose me.
The one person in all the world who should have chosen me, when it came right down to it, he decided to go with someone else. Someone else was a better choice than me.
And I've been hit with that message over and over and over again. The adoption agency didn't even think I worth talking to. My best friend dumped me because she came to the conclusion that I shouldn't be a mother. The IVF clinic has refused to treat me because I'm too fat.
And when the cosmic power weighed in, I thought finally, someone chose me. The cosmic power decided that not only was I good enough, but I was good enough to have 2. I felt like all the doubt, all of the naysayers could kiss my ass because whatever deciding force has the final say on the subject of who can and who can't, I was chosen as someone who can, and I was chosen to do it 2x over.
And then that cosmic power reconsidered and apparently decided that choosing me was a mistake.
So what is it? What is so fundamentally wrong with me that everyone who is ever given the opportunity to chime in on whether or not I should raise children, they all come to the same conclusion that no, I'm not someone who should be given that responsibility.
What is it about the bitches on Teen Mom that makes them worthy over me? I don't have a mug shot. I've never thrown a punch at anyone in my life. And yet nature itself has decided that they are more suited to being a parent than I am.
Why is it that virtual strangers on the internet seem to have more faith in my ability to be a good mom than the person who has known me since I was born? It doesn't help when we're chatting and he's a bit free with the phrases "you don't understand because you don't have kids" and "you'll think differently when you have kids." As if any thought I have is inferior because I don't have kids.
I've thought about these things. I've thought more about how I will handle various parenting situations and I've done more research on child psychology and behavior than just about anyone who doesn't yet have kids. Why? Because it's quite likely that in order to ever have a child, I will be asked those questions and I will have convince someone with my answers that I'm going to be a good mom. I can't just have faith that when the time comes, I will know what to do. I have to convince someone that I can do the job before I'm going to be given the opportunity to do the job.
But if the one person who should know better than anyone else in the world what I will be day to day as a parent, if I can't convince him that I'm the best choice, how can I ever convince a complete stranger that I'm the best choice out of hundreds of desperate couples who want that same child?
I haven't forgiven my brother. And if I haven't yet, I honestly don't know if I ever can. Even if I'm able to forgive one day, I can't imagine ever forgetting. I was able to ignore it for a while, but I just can't seem to escape that wound anymore.
What is it about me, what is so fundamentally wrong with me that no one will choose me to be a mother?
I'm terrified that these next IVF attempts won't work. And it's not because I so desperately want to have my own biological child. Honestly, the only benefit in my mind to having a child that is biologically mine is because if there are medical emergencies in the future, my husband and I can donate whatever body parts that child might need. Yes, I want to feel what it's like to have a baby kick inside me, and to see a mixture of my husbands and my face staring at me from a high chair, but those things are so unimportant in the bigger picture.
I never thought I would try to grow my own. I've always known that I would have trouble conceiving and I decided early on that I would never put myself and my husband through all of this debt and emotional roller coaster just to produce a child. I was always firm that I would adopt. Spend those resources on a child that was already in need of parents.
And then we started filling out the paperwork. We applied to one adoption agency and were turned down, probably because we checkmarked the box saying we would want more information on the financial assistance available. And so we started filling out the paperwork for 2 more agencies when we decided to really learn what our options were in the grow your own arena. And we learned that there aren't nearly as many kids in need as we thought. There are far more parents who want children than there are children who need parents. Frankly, hubby and I look really bad on paper. We aren't rich, I have mental illness in my health history (depression issues that are no longer a problem), and we aren't Christian.
We would have a better chance of actually raising a child, and it would be less expensive, to go through all of the IVF than to rely on being able to convince some scared, pregnant woman to let us raise her child.
And the final decision came down to one fundamental belief - no one will ever choose me.
But here's the wound that hit me so deep that lead to that fundamental belief.
A few years ago, when we first moved back to the Seattle area to be near family after a 10 year absence, my brother and his wife had their first child. As they wrote out their will, they asked me if K and I wanted to be named guardians should something happen to them. Of course we said yes. And a few days later, my brother told me that we were off the hook, they decided on someone else.
Out of a very short list of candidates, my brother decided that I wasn't the person he would choose to be a mother. If my SIL sibling were someone who wanted children (he actively does not want to be a father), I would understand if they chose her sibling over the fathers sibling.
My brother witnessed what the "mental illness" in my health history means. And he's someone who should know that while it looks like crap on paper, the truth of it isn't bad. He's the one person who was raised by the example of parenting that I will most likely follow. If anyone on this earth should have true knowledge of what kind of mother I could be some day, it should be him. His understanding of what kind of mother I will be is deeper than even my own husbands. And he didn't choose me.
The one person in all the world who should have chosen me, when it came right down to it, he decided to go with someone else. Someone else was a better choice than me.
And I've been hit with that message over and over and over again. The adoption agency didn't even think I worth talking to. My best friend dumped me because she came to the conclusion that I shouldn't be a mother. The IVF clinic has refused to treat me because I'm too fat.
And when the cosmic power weighed in, I thought finally, someone chose me. The cosmic power decided that not only was I good enough, but I was good enough to have 2. I felt like all the doubt, all of the naysayers could kiss my ass because whatever deciding force has the final say on the subject of who can and who can't, I was chosen as someone who can, and I was chosen to do it 2x over.
And then that cosmic power reconsidered and apparently decided that choosing me was a mistake.
So what is it? What is so fundamentally wrong with me that everyone who is ever given the opportunity to chime in on whether or not I should raise children, they all come to the same conclusion that no, I'm not someone who should be given that responsibility.
What is it about the bitches on Teen Mom that makes them worthy over me? I don't have a mug shot. I've never thrown a punch at anyone in my life. And yet nature itself has decided that they are more suited to being a parent than I am.
Why is it that virtual strangers on the internet seem to have more faith in my ability to be a good mom than the person who has known me since I was born? It doesn't help when we're chatting and he's a bit free with the phrases "you don't understand because you don't have kids" and "you'll think differently when you have kids." As if any thought I have is inferior because I don't have kids.
I've thought about these things. I've thought more about how I will handle various parenting situations and I've done more research on child psychology and behavior than just about anyone who doesn't yet have kids. Why? Because it's quite likely that in order to ever have a child, I will be asked those questions and I will have convince someone with my answers that I'm going to be a good mom. I can't just have faith that when the time comes, I will know what to do. I have to convince someone that I can do the job before I'm going to be given the opportunity to do the job.
But if the one person who should know better than anyone else in the world what I will be day to day as a parent, if I can't convince him that I'm the best choice, how can I ever convince a complete stranger that I'm the best choice out of hundreds of desperate couples who want that same child?
I haven't forgiven my brother. And if I haven't yet, I honestly don't know if I ever can. Even if I'm able to forgive one day, I can't imagine ever forgetting. I was able to ignore it for a while, but I just can't seem to escape that wound anymore.
Elizabeth Pantley Redemption
Ok, you're forgiven.
For those of you just joining us, I got upset with Elizabeth Pantley a couple of days ago because of this.
Before writing that blog post, I shot off a one line email to her asking how a miscarriage mama/infertility blogger ended up on her mailing list. I didn't expect a response, but she did contact me and apologized. It's clear that she wrote the email herself and that she does sincerely apologize. I have to give props when someone does what they can to face up to a mistake, especially when that mistake is out here in cyberspace, the easiest place in the world to just ignore it.
It's an interesting story about how I ended up on her mailing list though. Her assistant got my address from the blogroll on http://
It actually meant a lot to me that she wanted to keep my blog there. In a time of failure, she told me that she still found me valuable. I'm not sure there's much else that a miscarriage mama wants to hear so much as hearing that they are valuable.
For those of you just joining us, I got upset with Elizabeth Pantley a couple of days ago because of this.
Before writing that blog post, I shot off a one line email to her asking how a miscarriage mama/infertility blogger ended up on her mailing list. I didn't expect a response, but she did contact me and apologized. It's clear that she wrote the email herself and that she does sincerely apologize. I have to give props when someone does what they can to face up to a mistake, especially when that mistake is out here in cyberspace, the easiest place in the world to just ignore it.
It's an interesting story about how I ended up on her mailing list though. Her assistant got my address from the blogroll on http://
It actually meant a lot to me that she wanted to keep my blog there. In a time of failure, she told me that she still found me valuable. I'm not sure there's much else that a miscarriage mama wants to hear so much as hearing that they are valuable.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Wastin away again in Proveraville
I'm on provera for 7 days. Hopefully to force AF to get her butt here in about 10 days so I can start this friggin cycle.
By the way, when the hell did I become one of these people?
I'm not even cycling yet and I'm one of those people on so many vitamins and medications that I have to plot them out a week in advance to keep them all straight!
You are looking at:
- Vitamin D
- Alli - diet pill
- Synthroid
- Folic acid
- Metformin
- Prenatals
- Provera
When I'm cycling, I take little Post-it flags
and write the name of the injection, or however many vivelle patches I'm supposed to apply, or whatever, and stick them on the lid of the AM or PM of the appropriate day. Then I throw the flag away when I've taken that medication so that I have a visual indicator of where the hell I am in the daily medications.
It's official, I'm gettin old.
and write the name of the injection, or however many vivelle patches I'm supposed to apply, or whatever, and stick them on the lid of the AM or PM of the appropriate day. Then I throw the flag away when I've taken that medication so that I have a visual indicator of where the hell I am in the daily medications.It's official, I'm gettin old.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Where oh where has my AF gone?
Oh where, oh where can she beeeeeeeeeeeeee?
I expected to start a little AF action some time last week. If my body were functioning on a normal monthly schedule (ha! my body! normal monthly schedule! LOL!!! *wiping tears away* Yeah, cuz THAT ever happens. Oh excuse me. Ok, ok, back to the actual sentence I was trying to write) I should have been able to expect a period to start somewhere around the 4th. And for the first couple of days of Sept, I had lovely PMS symptoms. I bloated up a few pounds, I was cranky, I had cramps. And then around the 4th, they magically went away so I really expected an AF appearance.
And just to put everyone's mind at ease, I've dutifully POAS, and it sits next me, the control line rapidly darkening with no second line trying to peek through. I'll update at the end of this post when the 5 minutes are fully up.
Now on the one hand, every day that I go without AF is a day longer that I have to get down to the goal weight. I'm currently waffling between barely hitting it, and being a pound or two above it. So yes, a little more time to firmly get that number down is a good thing.
On the other hand, COME ON! Let's get this puppy started! I want to be pregnant already and AF signals about 4 weeks before that can happen. Let's go already! I even wore light gray pants out to a fancy dinner with my folks last night just to see if I could Murphy's Law it into being.
And K wants to take a few days off from work to use up the PTO that he has in bank and that he'll lose if he doesn't use it up by Feb. But he doesn't want to use it during the holiday retail season, cuz that would just make him a jerk. It would make sense for him to take off the week off egg retrieval and transfer so we'd really like to know when to expect that week to fall on the calendar.
If nothing happens by Monday, I guess I'll call the doc and see if we should kick start this puppy with some provera.
The stick confirms that a freebie ain't happening.
I expected to start a little AF action some time last week. If my body were functioning on a normal monthly schedule (ha! my body! normal monthly schedule! LOL!!! *wiping tears away* Yeah, cuz THAT ever happens. Oh excuse me. Ok, ok, back to the actual sentence I was trying to write) I should have been able to expect a period to start somewhere around the 4th. And for the first couple of days of Sept, I had lovely PMS symptoms. I bloated up a few pounds, I was cranky, I had cramps. And then around the 4th, they magically went away so I really expected an AF appearance. And just to put everyone's mind at ease, I've dutifully POAS, and it sits next me, the control line rapidly darkening with no second line trying to peek through. I'll update at the end of this post when the 5 minutes are fully up.
Now on the one hand, every day that I go without AF is a day longer that I have to get down to the goal weight. I'm currently waffling between barely hitting it, and being a pound or two above it. So yes, a little more time to firmly get that number down is a good thing.
On the other hand, COME ON! Let's get this puppy started! I want to be pregnant already and AF signals about 4 weeks before that can happen. Let's go already! I even wore light gray pants out to a fancy dinner with my folks last night just to see if I could Murphy's Law it into being.
And K wants to take a few days off from work to use up the PTO that he has in bank and that he'll lose if he doesn't use it up by Feb. But he doesn't want to use it during the holiday retail season, cuz that would just make him a jerk. It would make sense for him to take off the week off egg retrieval and transfer so we'd really like to know when to expect that week to fall on the calendar.
If nothing happens by Monday, I guess I'll call the doc and see if we should kick start this puppy with some provera.
The stick confirms that a freebie ain't happening.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Elizabeth Pantley
Elizabeth Pantley, you are officially on my shit list.
I just received a newsletter about your new book "The No-Cry Separation Anxiety Solution".
As a person who is authoring how to reduce anxiety, how on earth is it appropriate for you to spam a miscarriage mama/infertility blogger with unwanted information about your new book on how to take care of a baby?
And when I reach the bottom of the newsletter to try to find the obligatory "Click here to unsubscribe" link, which WAS NOT PRESENT! Instead I find a picture, life sized on my screen, of a blue eyed baby girl who is just about the same age that my own blue eyed ginger girls are supposed to be right now.
It's not even a subtle picture, seriously, it's a big giant baby face coming at me from the computer screen.
I don't know how I ended up on any kind of mailing list that would indicate that I want information about raising babies. Anything I might have browsed for during my pregnancy was unsubscribed from, and scrubbed free from my computer over 8 months ago. And there's no way that I was worried about separation anxiety while still in my second trimester.
You are a spammer. Your marketing methods completely contradict any authority you are trying to create as someone who can teach us how to reduce anxiety.
Knock it off bitch.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
In-Laws
Well, this week is not going to go nearly as planned.
If all had gone to plan, I wouldn't be blogging right now, I would be driving down to the airport with my husband to pick up his mother on her first ever visit to our home (in the 6 years we've been living here). But here I am, blogging and bitching behind my computer screen.
K got a call from his mother yesterday. Her anxiety level is too high for her to get on the plane. She's so scared that she can't even pack. And all of the high alert, 9/11 talk on tv isn't helping.
I won't go into the whole family dynamics and history, but I'll say this much, this visit was going to calm a lot of tensions.
K is the golden child of his original household. The responsible, reliable one. He is the one that gets the phone call to bail other members of his family out of whatever mess they are in whether it be to referee when they are arguing with each other, or to send money for an emergency. Almost every phone call leaves K feeling guilty. Guilty that he's not there to ease tensions. Guilty that they can't afford medications and he can't afford to send enough money to fix that. Guilty that they feel ostracized from his life.
He doesn't deserve any of this guilt. They moved to a different state before K and I left Boston to be near my family (as well as a member of his family). We've made the trip to visit them, and K has made a trip or two to visit without me. They've had a standing invitation to visit us at any time and every summer we hear talk that they are planning to come, and every summer it simply never happens.
In the six years since getting married, they have never visited us. They have never seen the house we've bought or the life their son has built.
Somehow, despite not having money for medications, they are able to visit their granddaughter 2-4 times per year. Somehow, my MIL is able to get on a plane to go and see her younger son and visit his little girl. And every time we hear about her granddaughters latest escapades, we are reminded that for some reason they can't manage to visit us, but they were able to visit her, AGAIN.
I'm insulted by this. Their son isn't important enough to sacrifice one trip with their granddaughter in order to be able to visit him. Will he suddenly be visitable once he manages to breed? Is a baby worth visiting but he isn't? That's the message I'm getting. They'll sacrifice the money to buy diabetes medication and spend it on another visit to her, but when asked to come and visit us, they can't afford it.
So for that last several weeks, we've been eagerly anticipating a week long visit from MIL. K put in for a week of paid time off so that he could spend time with her while she's here. I turned down $600 worth of video gigs this week (which we desperately need) so that I would here to go out to lunches and such. My own mother put off her birthday celebration so that MIL could join the whole family and be treated to dinner at the Space Needle. We rearranged the furniture in our home to ensure that we had places for her to sit and be comfortable and have been cleaning and straightening up for a week. We bought new bedding and borrowed an aerobed.
And I have been converting my girls nursery into a guest room for her. The door that has been closed for 6 years, only to be opened for a brief couple of weeks to prepare for our babies, I opened that door for her and turned it into a space for her to be comfortable.
And 24 hours before she was supposed to get on a plane, and all of this good will was to happen, she cancelled. She's too scared to get on the plane. And K says he understands that anxiety. But he also says he doesn't buy it. She manages to get on a plane to visit the little girl, but she can't manage to get on a plane to visit her own little boy. And all of the complaints about money, she just threw away the hundreds of dollars that were spent on that plane ticket.
If they ever again ask why I don't like them, they will finally receive an honest answer. They constantly hurt the most important person in the world to me. They insult him (and me). They treat him like the answer to their problems, but never offer them the reward of their affection that he has earned with his reliability.
Anyone who makes my husband feel unworthy, guilty, and second best is someone that I don't like.
And while I can't control how they treat their own son and what he's willing to continue to accept from them, I can promise this - they will never get the opportunity to make my children feel like they are second rate. My children will never be insulted by these people. My children will never question why their other granddaughter is loved, but they aren't.
MIL just blew it, big time.
If all had gone to plan, I wouldn't be blogging right now, I would be driving down to the airport with my husband to pick up his mother on her first ever visit to our home (in the 6 years we've been living here). But here I am, blogging and bitching behind my computer screen.
K got a call from his mother yesterday. Her anxiety level is too high for her to get on the plane. She's so scared that she can't even pack. And all of the high alert, 9/11 talk on tv isn't helping.
I won't go into the whole family dynamics and history, but I'll say this much, this visit was going to calm a lot of tensions.
K is the golden child of his original household. The responsible, reliable one. He is the one that gets the phone call to bail other members of his family out of whatever mess they are in whether it be to referee when they are arguing with each other, or to send money for an emergency. Almost every phone call leaves K feeling guilty. Guilty that he's not there to ease tensions. Guilty that they can't afford medications and he can't afford to send enough money to fix that. Guilty that they feel ostracized from his life.
He doesn't deserve any of this guilt. They moved to a different state before K and I left Boston to be near my family (as well as a member of his family). We've made the trip to visit them, and K has made a trip or two to visit without me. They've had a standing invitation to visit us at any time and every summer we hear talk that they are planning to come, and every summer it simply never happens.
In the six years since getting married, they have never visited us. They have never seen the house we've bought or the life their son has built.
Somehow, despite not having money for medications, they are able to visit their granddaughter 2-4 times per year. Somehow, my MIL is able to get on a plane to go and see her younger son and visit his little girl. And every time we hear about her granddaughters latest escapades, we are reminded that for some reason they can't manage to visit us, but they were able to visit her, AGAIN.
I'm insulted by this. Their son isn't important enough to sacrifice one trip with their granddaughter in order to be able to visit him. Will he suddenly be visitable once he manages to breed? Is a baby worth visiting but he isn't? That's the message I'm getting. They'll sacrifice the money to buy diabetes medication and spend it on another visit to her, but when asked to come and visit us, they can't afford it.
So for that last several weeks, we've been eagerly anticipating a week long visit from MIL. K put in for a week of paid time off so that he could spend time with her while she's here. I turned down $600 worth of video gigs this week (which we desperately need) so that I would here to go out to lunches and such. My own mother put off her birthday celebration so that MIL could join the whole family and be treated to dinner at the Space Needle. We rearranged the furniture in our home to ensure that we had places for her to sit and be comfortable and have been cleaning and straightening up for a week. We bought new bedding and borrowed an aerobed.
And I have been converting my girls nursery into a guest room for her. The door that has been closed for 6 years, only to be opened for a brief couple of weeks to prepare for our babies, I opened that door for her and turned it into a space for her to be comfortable.
And 24 hours before she was supposed to get on a plane, and all of this good will was to happen, she cancelled. She's too scared to get on the plane. And K says he understands that anxiety. But he also says he doesn't buy it. She manages to get on a plane to visit the little girl, but she can't manage to get on a plane to visit her own little boy. And all of the complaints about money, she just threw away the hundreds of dollars that were spent on that plane ticket.
If they ever again ask why I don't like them, they will finally receive an honest answer. They constantly hurt the most important person in the world to me. They insult him (and me). They treat him like the answer to their problems, but never offer them the reward of their affection that he has earned with his reliability.
Anyone who makes my husband feel unworthy, guilty, and second best is someone that I don't like.
And while I can't control how they treat their own son and what he's willing to continue to accept from them, I can promise this - they will never get the opportunity to make my children feel like they are second rate. My children will never be insulted by these people. My children will never question why their other granddaughter is loved, but they aren't.
MIL just blew it, big time.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
One year ago today
For the first time in my life, I saw a second line on a pregnancy test. It was really, really faint, but it was there.
Throughout my 20's and early 30's, I took a pregnancy test every 2-3 months if I was sexually active. Because of the PCOS, I can easily go 8-12 months without a period. Therefore, if I did get pregnant, I would have no natural indicators to tell me so. A skipped period wouldn't be noticed because for me, not skipping a period is what's odd.
And I was on depression medications that would be harmful to a fetus. So I tested every couple of months just to ensure that I wasn't harming someone by taking my medication every day.
Oh, and can I just mention how much money I spent that I didn't need to spend on those pregnancy tests? I had no idea that Wondfo tests existed. That I could get them in bulk, for about a quarter a piece. Nope, I was buying them at the drugstore in those three test packs.
Every test for more than a decade screamed at me that I wasn't pregnant. That there was no chance, no worries, goodbye. But one year ago today, I peed on a stick, and I squinted, and there was that hint of a magical second line. The next day, it was there, no mistaking it.
One year ago today, I learned that my long term belief that my body could never get pregnant was wrong.
Throughout my 20's and early 30's, I took a pregnancy test every 2-3 months if I was sexually active. Because of the PCOS, I can easily go 8-12 months without a period. Therefore, if I did get pregnant, I would have no natural indicators to tell me so. A skipped period wouldn't be noticed because for me, not skipping a period is what's odd.
And I was on depression medications that would be harmful to a fetus. So I tested every couple of months just to ensure that I wasn't harming someone by taking my medication every day.
Oh, and can I just mention how much money I spent that I didn't need to spend on those pregnancy tests? I had no idea that Wondfo tests existed. That I could get them in bulk, for about a quarter a piece. Nope, I was buying them at the drugstore in those three test packs.
Every test for more than a decade screamed at me that I wasn't pregnant. That there was no chance, no worries, goodbye. But one year ago today, I peed on a stick, and I squinted, and there was that hint of a magical second line. The next day, it was there, no mistaking it.
One year ago today, I learned that my long term belief that my body could never get pregnant was wrong.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Happier Feet
Check it out! The moment I was told it didn't have to lose the weight, my body cooperated and dropped the weight!
232.5 lbs on a 5'4" frame = BMI of 39.98 which is UNDER the BMI of 40 that my clinic insists on! And, I still have at least 2-3 weeks before my weigh-in at suppression check to give myself another pound or so of wiggle room. Who da man?! ...... Yeah, ok, I won't say that again.
You have witnessed a $2,000 weight loss. While they've figured out how to move forward with egg retrievals for fat girls, it means going into the hospital which costs about 2 grand. As long as I can now keep my weight at or below this mornings number, I can do the procedure in house.
And by the way, I had a buffet last night and decided to throw the diet out the window, and I still made the weight this morning. What's up with that?
232.5 lbs on a 5'4" frame = BMI of 39.98 which is UNDER the BMI of 40 that my clinic insists on! And, I still have at least 2-3 weeks before my weigh-in at suppression check to give myself another pound or so of wiggle room. Who da man?! ...... Yeah, ok, I won't say that again.
You have witnessed a $2,000 weight loss. While they've figured out how to move forward with egg retrievals for fat girls, it means going into the hospital which costs about 2 grand. As long as I can now keep my weight at or below this mornings number, I can do the procedure in house.
And by the way, I had a buffet last night and decided to throw the diet out the window, and I still made the weight this morning. What's up with that?
Friday, September 2, 2011
Finally, some good news!
I'm expecting a cycle start some time in the next week or so. Any day now really.
I've been freaking out because I'm still 4lbs above the weight limit for doing egg retrievals in the office. While I haven't been dieting hard core for the last month, I have been trying and instead of really losing weight, I've pretty much just maintained. Considering how my body should have snapped back and packed on several pounds after my marathon diet in July/August, I think the fact that I'm about half a pound below where I was when I ended that diet, I think I've done pretty damned good.
But pretty damned good doesn't move that scale to where it needs to be to satisfy the jerks in the anesthesia department. So I've been pretty scared. Scared that the month of September would be either back on the frantic diet which wouldn't be healthy at all (because I'm close enough to the goal to make it feasible if I just work hard enough), or admitting that I've failed and have to delay things another month.
I emailed my nurse (one of the few remaining people at the clinic that I actually still like) to get an update on when they expect to have a protocol in place for doing egg retrievals at a hospital for those of us too fat to have it done at the clinic. She consulted my doctor and he says that by the time I hit suppression check, the final date to determine whether or not I've made the weight, the protocol will be in place.
YESSSSSSSSS!!!!! Do you know what this means? This means I no longer have to look my husband in the eye and tell him that we can't have children because I can't control my cookie cravings!
Now, that also means that my cookie craving may cost us an additional $2k in hospital fees so obviously, I'm going to see if I can still make the weight. But I don't have to freak out about it, cry myself to sleep, or eat nothing but dressingless salads when the family goes out to fancy meals in the upcoming 2 weeks of mother-in-law visitation and my own mothers birthday celebration.
Instead of worrying about scale numbers, I can focus on keeping my body and mind healthy. Hopefully, concentrating on health will magically move the scale to the correct numbers anyway, but at least I don't have to sob into my pillow if it doesn't.
I've been freaking out because I'm still 4lbs above the weight limit for doing egg retrievals in the office. While I haven't been dieting hard core for the last month, I have been trying and instead of really losing weight, I've pretty much just maintained. Considering how my body should have snapped back and packed on several pounds after my marathon diet in July/August, I think the fact that I'm about half a pound below where I was when I ended that diet, I think I've done pretty damned good.
But pretty damned good doesn't move that scale to where it needs to be to satisfy the jerks in the anesthesia department. So I've been pretty scared. Scared that the month of September would be either back on the frantic diet which wouldn't be healthy at all (because I'm close enough to the goal to make it feasible if I just work hard enough), or admitting that I've failed and have to delay things another month.
I emailed my nurse (one of the few remaining people at the clinic that I actually still like) to get an update on when they expect to have a protocol in place for doing egg retrievals at a hospital for those of us too fat to have it done at the clinic. She consulted my doctor and he says that by the time I hit suppression check, the final date to determine whether or not I've made the weight, the protocol will be in place.
YESSSSSSSSS!!!!! Do you know what this means? This means I no longer have to look my husband in the eye and tell him that we can't have children because I can't control my cookie cravings!
Now, that also means that my cookie craving may cost us an additional $2k in hospital fees so obviously, I'm going to see if I can still make the weight. But I don't have to freak out about it, cry myself to sleep, or eat nothing but dressingless salads when the family goes out to fancy meals in the upcoming 2 weeks of mother-in-law visitation and my own mothers birthday celebration.
Instead of worrying about scale numbers, I can focus on keeping my body and mind healthy. Hopefully, concentrating on health will magically move the scale to the correct numbers anyway, but at least I don't have to sob into my pillow if it doesn't.
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