The Quest for Nine Continuous Months of Pregnancy

Cap'n! She's not gonna 'old up under this kind of pressure!!

2005-03-20T17:52:00.000-08:00

Not much going on here, which is probably a good thing. Thus, the no writing deal. The most 'interesting' thing that has happened lately is my cousin just passed away from stomach cancer. He had had stomach pains for months, but had no insurance, so he skipped the doctor. When it got so bad that he couldn't stand up, he finally went in on a Tuesday. Told it was cancer same day. Had exploratory surgery the next day. Family was told he had less than six months, but he never recovered from surgery and passed away on that Friday. Wow. That'd teach anyone to not ignore those aches and pains, huh? I wasn't very close to him, but I adore my aunt and she is just devastated of course.

I'm a bit tired of dying people around me and I demand that it stops. This. Instant.

I found out that my school district is a gigantic asshole. I finally got off my ass and went to talk to our human resources department person about my leave next year. Apparently all the sick leave I have accrued DOESN'T MEAN SHIT. Because I am due July 3rd, my 'disability' ends right before school starts. Well, since I don't work in the summer, I don't have to worry about taking time off, BUT when my 'disability' is over, I am fucked. FMLA will cover the district's part of the medical premium, but that is it. No pay. Okay, I can handle that I suppose-that is for 12 weeks, which takes me to right around Thanksgiving. Then, here's the fun part. Then, if I want to come back in January (which was the plan) then for the remaining time, I need to go on COBRA and therefore pay my medical for that time. Okay. But-when I asked if I could use my well earned with sweat and tears sick time (for which I come to work deathly ill so that I can save up), I was told no. NO?? Pardon me? Kiss my what? What the farvegnugen are you talking about?!?!?!? As I was fighting back frustration tears and getting up to go, the HR lady had the AUDACITY to tell me that I planned my pregnancy well because I was due in the summer. NO, I think that if it had been up to me (which we all know it wasn't) I should've been due in APRIL so that I could at least get some satisfaction of getting 8 weeks of pay from the piece of shit district. BEEEAATTCH!
So of course, this is not what R and I expected AT ALL, and caused us a good 2 solid days of fighting. Him being the money conscious person that he is told me in his own way (beating around the bush) that I might have to go back before Thanksgiving. Which may not seem like a big deal BUT our conferences are the week before Thanksgiving and if the sub isn't contracted until that time, they don't have to do them which means I will get to deal with all the parents who don't know me and it will be very obvious that I know even less about their child. UGGH

I told R that he needed a new job (he's a teacher too you know, that's why we can't afford all this).
After two days of me being hysterical, he told me that we'd work it out somehow.

Now that's better.

And now I am going to use my sick leave like I change my underwear until the end of the year, and not feel ONE iota of guilt like I normally do.

Cheesecakes, Pies, and Ice Cream, Oh My!

2005-02-24T12:10:00.000-08:00

We had our latest appointment today. News is just fine-although I am a bit distressed to learn that I am gaining weight faster than I should. NOT that it is a big surprise though. Nothing tastes good except for sweets, like the pies and cheesecakes I keep insisting on making. Thank God my glucose test isn't for two more appointments! I have time to wean myself off the sugar a bit.

Dr. Nice says we will probably be having a big baby. At this point he is in the 88th percentile. This also is not a surprise as abnormally huge babies run in R's family. I imagine that it is much better than the doctor telling me that my baby is too small for the date it should be. He should be. He. Like a real person, He. Wow. Insanely wierd.

The most affecting part of the appointment was as we were leaving, however. There was a couple on the couch in the waiting room. Both had obviously been crying. I knew what was wrong. Hadn't I been there before? The husband's arm was around her, and she was holding his hand with her head on his shoulder. My gut instinct was telling me to go put a hand on hers and do anything to make her feel like she wasn't alone. Of course I didn't, because I know that if someone had done that to me when I was in the same position, I would've decked them on the spot. Whoever she was, I hope it was just a scare and that everything is okay.

R is painting the spare bedroom right now (I still can't call it a nursery yet). Picture from the floor up-Green (like a celery color) up to about eye level, 1 inch white stripe, 6 inch light blue stripe, 1 inch white stripe, then yellow to the ceiling and on the ceiling. So far, very cute. We'll see once we get all the doodads that go in a room of that nature how it looks. We registered on Sunday-what a nightmare that was. Holy cow. I never thought I could spend THREE HOURS looking for baby things. Twenty minutes alone on the stroller and carseat combination. Wow. All I can say is that the market is definitely cornered. I mean- I can go buy a decent twin bed for $99, but a crib matress of decent firmness costs $109??? They bank on new parent paranoia, let me tell you.

It's a beautiful day here in the usually rainy northwest. I think I am going to go out and enjoy it in some way!

Stems and apples

2005-02-11T18:48:00.000-08:00

As my husband put it...

"The stem is on the apple."

Which means, it's a boy.

With all the appropriate body parts in the correct place, including five waving fingers. I have been saying all along that I'd have taken six fingers. After all, that can be surgically corrected. But it looks like we won't need to hire a neonatal plastic surgeon anytime soon.

R had some interesting perspectives while getting the ultrasound.

Tech: And there's the legs. See, and they're crossed. Relaxed, even.
Me: ummm, if you say so (looking at the faintly spooky yet recognizable outline of legs)
R: We know it can ride a bike then!
Tech: Oh, and there's a hand, four fingers and a thumb here.
R: And high five too!
(later)
Tech: Do you want to know the sex?
Me: YES!
Tech: moving the u/s around and freeze framing. Can you tell from the picture?
Me: mmmm?
Tech: moving the arrow to point at a very specific part. Now?
Me: Ahhh. A boy, right?
Tech: Yep. I noticed earlier that he had his had his hand down there. Now what do you suppose that's all about?
R: laughing his ass off . I don't know where he got THAT from!!
Me: Yeah, well, like father like son I guess.

Anyway, I am just happy that I didn't get the stone silent treatment, and an "Excuse me, I'll be right back." without explanation. I have said from the beginning that I would be happy with either a boy or a girl as long as it was healthy and had all the right parts in the right places. But, there is a tiny, itty bitty part of me that wanted a girl just a teensy bit more. Partly because my SIL just had a boy, partly because being an only child and a girl myself, I ain't got no idea what to do with one. I imagine I'll figure it out though.

Does this mean I get to relax a little bit now? I'd like to worry about other things, like nursery color schemes and names. I think that's pretty fair, don't you?

Oh How I Wish I Worked Retail

2005-02-07T17:29:00.000-08:00

So I could leave my job at my job.

Sorry I haven't blogged lately. It's nothing having to do with the pregnancy.

My grandpa died and my mom has been a basket case.

I currently hate my job. Well, I currently hate the parents of a couple of my kids in my class to be more specific.
Because I am not warm and cuddly, don't give mercy grades and referred a boy for special education, I am picking on him. Mind you, the mother agreed to everything I said during conferences. But she tells her child that she is going to try and get him out of my room. That might be good. But maybe she will be just too busy to bother like she normally is with anything else that matters because she is too busy putting on her pound and a half of makeup and her slutty clothes that she goes to work in because she works at a bar at night and NEVER SEES HER SON FOR MORE THAN AN HOUR A DAY ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Stupid Hoochie Mama Bitch. Go ahead. Make. My. Day.

Another child who has the mental stability of Sybil (does anyone remember that movie/book?), and who's mother agreed that she needed to be involved in social skills groups with our counselor (but then told me that her daughter was just fine and that she didn't need it and that I just needed to deal with the bullying that was going on in my room, yet when I asked her to be specific, because her daughter hadn't told me one SINGLE incident about bullying (she's the bully by the way) I got NO reply at all) just emailed me and told me that just because her child was absent that she shouldn't be restricted from getting the mail that she didn't recieve when she was gone (Say WHAT???) because I was out when the girl asked me and I told her that since I was out of the papers she needed to go to the FUCKING office like every other child that has a brain between their ears. Obviously walking 100 yards to get a forms for the yearbook by the deadline (which is March fucking 1st) will be SOOOOOOO detrimental to the child that she will never recover.

Deceived Double Bitch. No wonder your child is psycho.

Because I hold my mail ransom from kids I don't particularly like.

And I pick on kids with learning disabilities that their parents don't want to admit to, because that would mean that it MIGHT HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH THEM AND NOT THE SCHOOL SYSTEM OR THEIR CURRENT FUCKING TEACHER!!!

For those of you that think that being a teacher means that you like all your kids, and that you don't have to deal with the assholes of the world, think again. It is so fucking easy to be a jerkoff when you don't see a person on a daily basis, and you can send evil messages through your child. And every child is not peaches and cream and all about the excitement of education, even at the third grade.

Gah.

I will be the most silent parent you have ever met. EVER.

So yeah. I'm okay. The baby is okay. My blood pressure, however, right now, is not.

Ultrasound to find out the sex is Friday. Since I denied the triple screen test, they will be looking to make sure all is okay as well. Let's cross our fingers, shall we?

That's a 10-4 good buddy

2005-01-03T18:15:00.000-08:00

10 pounds 4 ounces is what my new nephew weighs.

After 2 full days of contractions in the hospital.

And the inevitable c-section.

Yeeowww!!

Congratulations SIL. No matter how incredibly jealous I was/am of you, I am still thrilled to be an auntie.

Even if he is a tank.

You turn your back for one second...

2005-01-01T18:13:00.000-08:00

...and all hell breaks loose!

Alrighty. What an enormously stressful few weeks it has been.

First-beyond baby news.

My Grandpa, my only living grandparent was put in the hospital for gall stones. And lo and behold, guess what else they found!! Yup! The C word. In three different places. He apparently has a tumor on his backbone that will probably paralyze him, one on his lung that will kill him, and one in his prostate. He's 94 people. He can't do chemo. It's radiation or nothing. Damn.

My dad was in town for Christmas. Yippee. Ahem. So we went to my aunt's house for Christmas eve dinner (a German feast of bratwurst, saurkraut, and cabbage rolls-something I look forward to all year long). I relished in the fact that I didn't tell my dad a damn thing about me being pregnant. It's like twisting a knife he doesn't even know is there. Jerk.

We then drove to my brother in laws house for Christmas. You know. The one that's married to the pregnant SIL? Well, holy schnikees! I have NEVER seen a pregnant woman so swollen. She looked like a Macy's parade balloon. No, she doesn't have toxemia. She is borderline diabetic, but not enough to warrant how big she was. Her feet were unrecognizable!! She wasn't due for another two weeks, but at Christmas it was estimated that the baby was at least 9 pounds.

Yes. I said 9 pounds. At least.

My stepdad's father died. Not totally unexpected. He was a diabetic and in the last few weeks, the ambulance had to come and revive him from insulin shock. We last saw him at Thanksgiving and he looked like hell in a handbasket then. Soooo, we had to drive Raymond from my brother in laws house after Christmas. Mind you. On the map, it looked like a straight shot. R insisted that we would only need an hour and a half to get there. I, however, being the pessimist that I am, told him we'd be late if we only left that amount of time.

Can you guess what happened?

Yep.

I was right. We skated in the door after the rosary (which I am glad we missed that part, because it was open casket during-yech) and came in during some rowdy Catholic singing. So we were late and I tried my best not to say I told you so more than twice.

Back to the SIL. She went in to get induced on the 30th at 11pm...and apparently the hospital was overrun with pregnant women trying to give birth that they sent her home. Apparently, this year is a good luck year on the Chinese calendar? So, there were a plethora of Asian women trying to squeak their babies out before the end of the year.

Wierd.

So, they went back in yesterday afternoon to try again. The last we heard was...they gave her pitocin, and she was having contractions, but not labor yet. BUT every time she had a contraction, it was depressing the baby's heartrate. Her doctor was all about doing a C-section right then, but the nurses were arguing with this idea.

Ummm

Last I heard, the doctors are in charge, right?

Yeah. So, like I said, that was the last we heard, and that was last night at 7p. So we're worried.

Baby news from me:

I'm 14 weeks today.
I thought for sure it wasn't going to happen. Since I stopped the prometrium, I hadn't felt much of anything, so I was a basket case. We had an appointment on the 30th though, and we heard the heartbeat. Very well and strongly. I immediately came home and rented a doppler. It came the next day, and it is my new bestest friend.
We took the big plunge and told our neighbors that we were expecting, and are going to tell some other friends tonight. That's the scary part, because, then, it's, like, real and all.

And then today I did a most outrageous thing.

Now don't scream.

I bought maternity clothes today.

That would be because I have 2 pairs of pants that fit me at this point that are decent enough to wear in public. I could fit into just about everything last week at this time. I don't want to have to go to work in my sweats, no matter how appealing that sounds, so I bit the bullet and went to Old Navy and Motherhood Maternity.

Okay. So tell me. Who the FUCK wears low rise pant when they are pregnant? Hmmm? Just tell me that, because all I saw at O.N. were that type of pants. I suppose if you are 16 and a hoochie and pregnant, but COME ON!! I don't wear low rise in any case, thank you very little!! Ugh.

But I did find some in-between type of pants at M.M. that will work for a few months I think. I am not showing yet. To the untrained eye, it's just a bit too much eggnog or mashed potatoes, but I figure if it only took a week for me to lose half my wardrobe, I better step up and face my fears by going into one of those pregnant lady shops.

I have to get my blood drawn for the ominous triple screen in two weeks. Don't know yet how I feel about that, considering I don't think I could terminate if given bad news. So, if it is acceptable news, I will skip the amnio altogether and just cross my fingers....I have another appointment with my doc two weeks after that for poking and prodding time.

Until then, my bestest friend (Doppler) and I will be hanging out together on a daily basis.

Happy New Year everyone!!

Withdrawals

2004-12-05T09:51:00.000-08:00

I admit it. I am going through withdrawals. I got the old heave ho from Dr. Soap Opera and went to my first official OB appointment with Dr. Caring. I really really like Dr. Caring, because she seems so genuinely interested in keeping me pregnant and wanting me to be happy. Anyhoo- I went to my appointment, but it really was a big letdown. Lots of poking and prodding and question asking. You know, Dr. Caring's assisstant came in and asked me all the pertinent questions...

Assistant: Do you drink alcohol?
Me: No, but I'd love to if you think it would help.
Assistant: Do you smoke?
Me: Does pot count?
Assistant: Have you had sex with more than one partner in the past year?
Me: Hey, I've barely had sex with the one I've got.

And then the advice check list:

Don't eat underdone meat.
Okay, red meat is making me gag right now anyway. No problem.
Don't eat moldy cheese.
Check.
Don't lift anything heavy.
Like the desks I want to pitch at my students every once in a while??
If you bleed during or after sex. Stop immediately and call us.
Refer to sex question above.
Don't take anything except Tylenol.
You mean besides the Prometrium, Baby Aspirin, Prenatal Vitamin, Vitamin B6, B12, E, and extra Folic Acid I am taking? There is a large neon sign that says 'No Vacancy' on my pill organizer as it is, thanks.

Then I see Dr. Caring. She pokes. She prods. She says 'Yep, it looks like you are around 9 weeks". I think: Oh shit, I am 9w4d at this point. I say: So everything is fine?
She says yes. How completely accurate can they be by just using the old finger probe and push??? Ack!

I get to come back in 4 weeks.

4 weeks?????

I don't get another ultrasound until 18w or so.

What the hell?

I am used to getting that every week reassurance.

I don't know if I am going to make it.

I'm a wreck already.

Damn.

Heroin, Watermelon, and Straws

2004-11-21T13:50:00.000-08:00

I have been unnaturally silent. Don't worry (if you were), I am still pregnant, according to my ultrasound this morning. I've just been having conferences this past week and I am pooped.

I think I have one more u/s with Dr. Soap Opera, then I go to my regular OB for the regular checkups. I don't know what I will do when I don't get an u/s every week. It's my fix. R usually asks me during the week what my anxiety level is. It rises fairly consistently as the days pass. Directly after the u/s I am at a 2 or so...then right before the next one (as we are driving and taking the exit to the appt.) it shoots up to about 9 or so. What am I going to do when I don't have something to reassure me? Am I going to have to hover at around a 7 or so? Good grief, my blood pressure must be through the roof.

I'm still having an extremely difficult time believing that I am pregnant. Even though we have seen a heartbeat three times in a row, and Dr. Soap Opera even called it "Lance Armstrong-like" (of course R had to ruin it by asking the Dr. if the head was Einstein-like, and the Dr. retorted Oh yes, and the body is most Arnold Schwarzenegger-like) I can't talk about names...I can't talk about maternity clothes...R wanted to talk about a new car (we have itsy bitsy ones right now), and I had to ignore him because talking about it would mean that I have the utmost faith that this pregnancy will last.

I, being the glass is almost empty type, choose to not think about it too much, because if I do, the anxiety level reaches critical proportions. Because thinking about it would make it real. Because thinking about it before has made bad things happen in the past. Because if I think it's real, then it goes away again-this time I don't know if I would be able to recover. Especially because we have seen life for four weeks in a row.

I've snuck out the What to Expect When You Are Expecting book that I had bought the first time around, way back when. I had hid it away in the spare bedroom, buried under a bunch of crap in the closet. I sat in the closet and I read only about where I should be right now and what I should be eating. The book won't truly come out for a few more weeks...but I do enjoy it. Only the whole pregnancy diet thing has my head spinning. All I really want is anything with lemons in it and watermelon. Bulger wheat and 8 ounces of kale a day does NOT sound good right now. Blech.

I am totally confused about the pg signs. Sometimes I have them (sore bbs, gas like you would not believe, extreme hunger in the middle of the night, fatigue) which makes the anxiety take a coffee break. Then, the next day- Nothing. Nada. Zero. Goose Eggs. And I freak out. I think I've poked my boobs until they should be black and blue. It's like heroin. Anything to get that feeling back. Anything.

R has basically told me several times that I "need to relax", at which point I flip out on him and tell him that I can't help it. He's the ying and I'm the yang in this relationship etc etc. So now I have a hard time telling him when I am worried. Okay. So that may be every hour on the hour, but STILL!

There is one really odd thing about this whole pregnancy thing.

R's birthday is Dec. 30th, which is within about 4 or 5 days of when my SIL is due.

If I stay pregnant, this baby would be due in the beginning of July, within about 5 or so days of R's brother's birthday (R only has one brother and no sisters, so this is the same that is married to the pg SIL).

Is that weird? If I am trying to look for cosmic good signs, I'll go with that.

Along with viewing the glass as lacking, grasping at straws is also my forte.

Sigh. At least I have something to be thankful about this Thanksgiving.

I Heart Dr. Soap Opera

2004-10-31T13:41:00.000-08:00

There are several reasons why I heart Dr. Soap Opera:

#1 He's beautiful
#2 He came in on a Sunday to give me an ultrasound
#3 He's going to keep coming in on a Sunday to give me ultrasounds, because he is very far away and I can't make it on the weekdays (and I'd rather rip out my fingernails than have to write sub plans for a missed day at school)
#4 Did I say he's beautiful?
#5 He has a most wonderful wandside manner
#6 He gave me the first good news I have ever heard from the handle end of the dildocam.

Let me back up a bit to give you an update on what's been going on since my last post.

Soon after my last post I got ready for bed and went potty. Where I saw what anyone who has ever miscarried before dreads to see.

Spotting. Very, very, light. But still there.

I went hysterical.

I didn't sleep.

I called Dr. Soap Opera's office and demanded another beta (this worked out well, since my last one was two days prior) via voicemail.

Well, I should've known that something was going to go shitty because both Dr. Soap Opera and Ms. Kindness were out of the office. I got a voicemail back that she who I will name henceforth Ms. Dumbass, ordered the bloodwork and I could go in to the same place I had gone before.

Great.

So I drive like Michael Waltrip down to the lab. Guess what?

They don't have the paperwork.

Well, my Ob/Gyn is right next door, so they send me down there to check to see if Dr. Soap Opera's office (via Ms. Dumbass) faxed it there.

No. They didn't. I'm shocked. I'm starting to cry. I can't deal with this.

The receptionist and the nurse on duty (my doc was out) were puzzling over this while I am slowly veering toward an abyss of hysteria.

Aha! Let's call the other office to see if it was faxed there!!

Okay. That's fine, except that I never go to that office and I don't understand why in the Holy HELL it would be there.

Well, guess what. That's exactly what Ms. Dumbass had done. So, they fax it to the office I was currently melting down in.

Nurse: Okay, we have it...
Me: Great.
Nurse: But...wait a minute...
Me: *choke*
Nurse: It says STAT on here. We don't do STAT from this office. STAT is where a cab takes it...
Me: Yes, I know what STAT is. And YES you CAN do STAT from here, because my LAST THREE were done STAT from this building!!
Nurse: Well, I don't know how to do it.
Me:
Nurse: MMMmmm...give me a minute.
Me: Alright.
Nurse:
Nurse: Okay. We've got it figured out. Here you go. Good luck. (as she practically shoves me out the door)

So I traipse back to the lab and give them the form.

Vampire: Oh great! Let me see that.
Me:
Vampire: Hmmm. I can't process this because there is no code.
Me: Uhhh...
Vampire: Take it back down to Dr. C's office and have them put a code on it.
Me: ok *sniff*

So I traipse back to Dr. C's office and give the form back.

Me: They need a code for the blood draw.
Nurse: What are you having done again?
Me: I thought-holy shit are you kidding me?
I said- A beta draw.
Nurse: Do you just need a pregnancy confirmation?
Me: trying really really hard not to come across the counter to throttle her
No. I know I am pregnant. I am having a draw to. see. if. everything. is. ok.
Nurse: Well, I don't know the code!
Me: This is not happening to me...
Nurse: C'mon, I'll walk you down there.

So Nurse and I traipse back to the lab.

Nurse and Vampire have a little discussion, open up a manual of some sort (on maybe how to handle patients???) and together they figure out the code, and frickin finally, I get another track mark to add to my collection.

Fast forward to the next day:

I finally get to talk to Ms. Kindness again, and she tells me that my numbers have more than doubled again. (Big Breath Let Out Here) And I set up an appointment for an ultrasound on Sunday (today) to check to see that everything is in the right place.

So that was that drama. On to my SIL's baby shower.

Actually it didn't go all that badly. I had my mom with me, and she's a good shield. No one asked me when I was going to get pregnant or when I would decide to be a mom too. Which was nice. I have to say that my SIL looked like hell. She is apparently due in early January, so she is around 7 months or so. She's a big framed girl, but she has gained so much weight, I barely recognized her. That can't be okay.

I could tell I made her just as uncomfortable as she makes me. Which is also nice. *insert evil laugh here*

So that was my yesterday.
This morning, I saw Dr. Soap Opera for my ultrasound. We saw the gestational sac, which measured right for where I am. It's in the right spot-at the top the uterus. And here's the kicker:

You could see the beginnings of a yolk sac.

This is exciting for us because that hasn't happened before. The past two times, there has been a vast expanse of nothing. A black hole that sucked up all my hope. Such are blighted ovums on a screen.

Oh, I don't know if it's luck, the handful of vitamins and baby aspirin, the prometrium, or the fact that my uterus wants to impress Dr. Soap Opera, but I don't care.

I heart Dr. Soap Opera.

It's A Bit Nippy Out There

2004-10-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

And she peeks her head out just a little bit farther. She takes a big breath and debates to herself whether or not she should stick her very petite foot out of the door as well. She doesn't want to get her shoes wet yet, she's spent a lot of money those Manolo Blahnik's and she needs to be sure she's on firm ground before she steps outside.

Monday mood monitor
8:00 a.m. : Hopeful
9:00 a.m. : A bit antsy
10:00 a.m. : Very antsy
10:40 a.m. : After calling the doctor's office and leaving a voicemail message-Nervous
12:00 p.m. : Thinking...On Monday they had called by 10:30! Didn't I read somewhere that if you get "the call" later in the day, you're doomed?-Extremely nervous
2:00 p.m. : After harrassing the doctor's voicemail-Petrified
3:15 pm. : After checking my voicemail for the 30th time, finally relieved to see a message has been received. It was Ms. Friendly (I like her, her voice is nice) apologizing for making me wait, but the doctor wanted to call me himself *gasp* to set up an appointment for an ultrasound. Then tells me after all this that my numbers look "great" and I am at 3045.
3:16 p.m. : Relieved

Since I had my last one on Thursday, I did the math (oh, how anal I be) and more than doubled again...Okay. This should make me very happy. But here's my ignorant question.

Tue: 128
Thu: 411 (more than triple Wed)
Saturday: ?
Monday: 3045

So...should I be tripling, like I did the first time, or is it okay that it slipped a bit (2.75 times or so, if you go by the average)? Am I making sense? I know that it is okay when you at least double, but I overacheived the first time, so this made me a bit nervous, happy, but nervous.

Dr. Soap Opera wants me to come in to do an ultrasound, to make sure that it is in the right spot, and not an ectopic pregnancy. He called and R. talked to him. R. said that Dr. Soap Opera was very pleased but would like me to come in on Friday. Mmmm- I am choosing not to do it until next week. Why you ask? Because I want to go to this frickin baby shower on Saturday with a positive attitude. In other words, I don't want to know so that I can get through this thing with some hope. Even though there wouldn't be much to see right now. Besides the fact that I am mortally petrified of the dildocam, as it has only been the harbinger of terrible news, and tends to send me into a tailspin of depression.

So that's where Hope stands. She's hedging her bets.

CRRREEEAAAKKK Goes the Rusty Door

2004-10-26T20:15:00.000-07:00

And Hope peeks her timid head out the door and takes a look around. It's kind of foggy out there, and she isn't sure what is going to happen, but the recent news has her feeling good. She just found out yesterday that the numbers went up to 411. That would be more than triple.

Although the numbers look good, Dr. Soap Opera had to ruin it by asking for another beta to be taken today....'just to be sure'. Gee thanks a lot. I am starting to look like a heroin addict. No short sleeves for me for the next few days. I really didn't need for him to say that he wanted another beta. I could have been happy for at least a few more days, now I need to worry about what this beta says. Everything needs to be fine, for this weekend is the dreaded sister in law's baby shower. My attendance depends on positive results of this last test.

Waiting...

2004-10-24T14:58:00.000-07:00

For those of you who may be curious- I don't know the results yet for beta #2. I had it done on Friday at 4:00 so of course no one in the fertility business cares that their patients are freaking out because they didn't call with results on a flippin Saturday. I am trying my best to be calm, but not being very successful. Here are my statistics:

I am about 30% hopeful, because I keep telling myself that since the first two were blighted ovums it is so highly unlikely that it will happen again that I have to be on the right track for good luck.

I am about 70% unhopeful and seriously scared. I don't think I need to explain why, do I? I mean, maybe the BO's mean my ovaries are defunct. As I haven't had any tests done specifically aimed at the ol' girls, it's entirely possible that the reason that I had two BO's in a row is because my eggs are poached or something.

All I know is that I don't want to go to the hospital again. I don't want another D&C. I don't want to be still recovering when my sister in laws baby is due, damn it. I want to believe that the reason my stomach is all upset and I am so tired is because there is actually a baby in there, not because I am so stressed out.

Is that so much to ask?

Uncertainty

2004-10-21T16:40:00.000-07:00

I'm irritated because I typed a whole entry last night and when I tried to post, the site was down damn it, and everything I wrote was lost. Grrrr...

I had a beta taken yesterday. It was 128. Since I am at this point not even four weeks, that number is acceptable. Now the big test is the one I am having done tomorrow. I am scared shitless, pretty much. Blood draws have never been a happy thing for me.

Here's the downer though.

Of course I have been obsessive compulsive and have taken four tests for four days in a row. Today's was the same as yesterdays. Not darker. Both with FMU. Shit. That basically ruined my whole damn day, and will tomorrow as well, I am sure. Someone please reassure me about this, because I am already telling myself that this is it.

I don't feel too much. Yesterday and the day before I had lots of pulling feelings. Today, not so much. Though I am still peeing a lot.

I am so afraid. R wants me to call Doctor Soap Opera and ask him about the test. I won't because I know what he'll say. He'll say we won't know anything until we get the results from the second beta back. Don't you think?

All I know is that it just has to be different than the last two times. I mean who the hell has three blighted ovums in a row? If that happens, I am sure Guinness Book of World Records will be calling me. That just doesn't happen, does it? I would just like to know that my eggs aren't totally defunct and that I can actually grow something in there. That it isn't just someplace where hopeful eggs commit suicide.

I just want to fast forward a month. Just let this go by quick, whatever it is.

The Trifecta

2004-10-18T18:36:00.000-07:00

Every weekend my husband hopes for the trifecta. The WSU Cougs win, the UW Huskies lose, and the Seahawks win. So far he hasn't done that well. Last weekend was the anti-trifecta. Try being around him when that happens? It was worse than me on PMS.

Well, this past week I have had a trifecta of my own.

Event #1
I finally got the invitation to my sister in law's baby shower. I broke down hysterically when I saw it. Apparently Rick had already talked to my mom before I got home and saw it. She said she will go with me for support as she of course got an invitation soon. I had nightmares for three days straight about the stupid event. You can imagine the scene.

Chorus: La la la...(in sing song voice) When are you going to be next???

Me: *sob* Never I think.

Chorus: La la la...Well, T is doing so well, why don't you want to be like her???

...and so on. I just can't live on 3 hours of sleep. I am strictly a 9 hour girl.

Event #2
My next door neighbor had her baby.
She has been off work for the past couple of weeks. So her van had been home. Well, the other day, it was gone.

All day long.

So I had a gut feeling that the time had come to get hysterical again. But I wasn't sure. That is, of course, until they put out one of those stupid "It's a Boy" flags on their house in place of their US flag. What a pisser. We were on our way to a party and I was grumpy enough that I couldn't drink. Then I saw the damn thing. Do people need to advertise? All the people that would really give a shit should be at the hospital or whatever, right? So this totally ruined my night.

I've been horribly, undeterably depressed lately. I have cried myself to sleep whilst trying not to alert R to that fact. I can make it through the entire day and be okay. But as soon as I lie down I can't hang on to it any more.

I also have been dog tired. I almost fell asleep at my parents the other night after dinner. I am usually tired. I have been like that for as long as I can remember. But lately it has been worse.

I've had cramps, but honestly we had Chinese food the other night, then awful party food, so it could be that...

And then I got up in the middle of the night the other night to go pee.

And last night too.

I NEVER go pee in the middle of the night.

Ever.

Except for my first pregnancy. (The second didn't last long enough and I was ill with a virus the whole time that kept me pretty dehydrated)

Well.

Event #3
Didn't think all that much about it (ch'ya right) 'til today.

I am 9 days past ovulation.

I took the test.

The test.

Fully expecting vast areas of white space. Especially because I peed in the middle of the day after lots of water.

1 minute passed.

The pee passes through, leaving pretty pink streaks going the wrong way.

2 minutes passed.

A little bit less of the above mentioned pink stripes.

3 minutes passed.

Even a little bit less of the above mentioned pink stripes.

4 minutes passed.

Faint shadow.

E thinks: holygoddamnshitshitshitshitohmygodthishastobeanevaporationlineholyshitletitbethismonth

5 minutes passed.

Definite, though faint second line.

E thinks:
holymotherfuckerthiscan'tberealohshitwhatdoidothishastobeamistakeholycraponastick

Everybody catch their breath? Well, I haven't. I haven't said anything to R yet. I need to wait until I pee again and talk to my doctor. I can't let anyone (okay, other than you all out there) share in this yet, if it is true.

I'm not happy.

I'm petrified.

Paranoid.

Preparing for the worst.

But not happy.

Sixth Sick Sheik

2004-10-07T19:03:00.000-07:00

I seem to be in a very strange state of mind this cycle. I don't know what has changed, or what milestone I passed, but as of today and right now
I am not stressed out.
Could it be that I finally got three tomatoes off my plant, even though it is all but twigs and yellowed leaves? And big tomatoes, too.
Or maybe for the first time in a long time, I haven't dreamt about something that can be related to babies. I dreamt the other night I was a backcountry convenience store with one of my students (one of my faves because she is so darn cute) and we were deciding which candy bar to buy when we looked outside and lo and behold. We were watching Mt. St. Helen's erupt. It started to snow ash, but we weren't worried. In fact, I think we played in it.
Or maybe it could be the fact that Carnie Wilson is pregnant. Shit. If she can get and stay pregnant after all that messing around in her stomach, I can too.
Or maybe I subconsciously know that I need a mental break from it all.
Or maybe it's because I passed my first due date with a fit of hysteria and I'm all drained out. Who knows really?
I do want to impress upon y'all that of course R and I are still trying, but we actually had normal good sex the other night. Not the 0h-yea-it's-time-to-do-it-again type of sex. You know what I mean. But the I-actually-enjoyed-it kind. That's the first time in...oh...well, let's just say a reeaaaalllllyyyy long time.

Anyway, how 'bout a little amusement?

Did you know?
...Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair. Well, maybe that's why I always set off the security alarm at the airport.
...Coca-Cola was originally green. It's a wonder it never sold...
...23% of all photocopier faults worldwide are caused by people sitting on them and photocopying their butts. I do have to say I have never participated in this type of action.
...If the government has no knowledge of aliens, then why does Title 14, Section 1211 of the Code of Federal Regulations, implemented on July 16, 1969, make it illegal for U.S. citizens to have any contact with extraterrestrials or their vehicles? Alright. May the Force be with you, aliens. Come on down so I can test out that law. That's kind of like the "You can't eat ice cream in public" law that is in some po'dunk town in Kentucky or Tennessee or somewhere that I read about.
...Wearing headphones for just an hour will increase the bacteria in your ear by 700 times. Ewwww!
...More than 50% of the people in the world have never made or received a telephone call. Lucky them. No telemarketers!
...The "sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick" is said to be the toughest tongue twister in the English language. Yeah. I tried it too. Damn that's hard!
...The Eiffel Tower in Paris weighs over 1000 elephants. As compared to...1500 gazelles???WTF?
... In 1879, a mail service in Belgium employed 37 cats to carry bundles of letters to villages around the town of Liege, this experiment was shorted-lived as the cats proved thoroughly undisciplined. They obviously didn't use cats like my Sasha, who is a small furry person, and very motivated.
... The greatest recorded number of children that have been born by one mother is 69! The poor lass gave birth to 16 pairs of twins, seven sets of triplets and a measly 4 sets of quadruplets. Even in the days before IVF! Fuck me running. Would you mind handing over some of your ovaries lady? You seem to have more than your freakin' share! She must have been very very tired....
...13% of Americans actually believe that some parts of the moon are made of cheese. Dumbasses
...If you could count the number of times a cricket chirps in one minute, divide by 2, add 9 and divide by 2 again, you would have the correct temperature in celcius degrees. Okay. Who the hell cares enough to figure that mindfuck out? Not I, said the fly...

Iam We Todd Did

2004-10-05T18:17:00.000-07:00

Ha! Made ya say it! ;) Sorry if I offend, but oh well. If you don't like it, go away.

Well. Let's see what has been going on here....Not a lot.

Went to a Southern Living party on Sunday at a coworkers house. What a joke those things are. I can't tell you how many different parties I have been to over the past few years. They're like quicksand. If you don't think fast, they'll suck you in.

I really hate the feeling that I feel the responsibililty to go to these stupid things. I mean, how many damn candles and stamp sets does one person need?? I have every utensil I need, so no, I don't need that pizza stone. I already have a candle in every room, so no, I don't need that holiday multipack of tealights. The only reason these businesses flourish is the devastating peer pressure you receive when going to the parties. How does one not buy anything without feeling horribly guilty? Like you've jipped the hostess in some way? The only one I successfully said no to was at a Weekender's party. Good God is that line of clothing atrocious. (I apologize if any of you out there are silly enough to spend $45 on a teeshirt made out of material better left to Kmart or washing your car)

So, at this party-I bought cookbooks. They are safe and I like to look at the pictures.
At this party, there were a few coworkers there as well from my school. One is an aide in our preschool. Let's call her MiniSkirt Mama.

So MiniSkirt Mama is not a small woman. I am not entirely petite, mind you, but at least I know how to dress so that I am not offending people. MSM was wearing a skirt so short (she is in her early 40's) that I would daresay it was a cummerbund in a former life. She had not any justification in wearing it either, making me, and I am sure others at this party, very embarrassed for her. *chuckle*...embarrassed.... speaking of which, when she bent over to pick something, we got a splendid view of her coochie.

I have actually known MSM for a while, but not too well. Not well enough for her to be asking any sort of questions about my conception life. But. Guess what. Since she tacky enough to be wearing what she was, she was also tacky enough to bring up the subject.

MSM: So. When are you and R. going to have a baby?
Me: Uhhh...We're working on it.
MSM: Well, get on it then!
Me: We've been trying for a long time.
MSM: A long time? Really?
Me: Yes. A. Very. Long. Time.
MSM: *has the grace to look away*
Me:
MSM: You have huh?
Me:
MSM: You can have K! (Her 14 yr old daughter, who is a minime soon to be promiscuous version of her, except stick thin)
Me: Uhhh. No thanks. I'd like my own if you don't mind.
MSM: Well. The offers out there! *chuckles at her own joke*

How. Fucking. Stupid. Are. You?

Sigh. I hope my cookbooks were worth it.

When it rains...

2004-09-28T22:43:00.000-07:00

I made it through alive.
Is scathed a word? Because if it is, I came out a bit scathed, but alive.
It was, however 3 hours of living hell. Let me tell you how difficult it is to NOT talk to the pregnant lady when there are only six of you at the shower. Not an easy feat, I must say, though I did manage quite well after two large glasses of wine. ahem

And no one asked me when I was going to have a child, even when they ALL started talking about how their first pregnancies seemed to go on forever (yeah, at this point, I really wanted to say Wow, that's funny, mine seemed so short...). Which leads me to believe that they know or suspect something. That obvious avoiding of 'the question' was a big tip off. I guess I haven't been as discreet as I had hoped. Well, maybe that will teach them not to invite me to their stupid showers anymore.

R. and I got in a fight last night. I was...go figure...on the computer when R. started talking to his bro on the phone. Normal conversation, you know, then things got rather...quiet. Whisper like. I heard the word 'torture' and 'not until she's pregnant' and 'freak out'. Hmph. Needless to say, that was all it took to send me into a spiral of venom and leaky eyes. When he came in the room to talk to me, I really wanted to kick him in the jimmies (okay, maybe the shins since that won't hurt our chances of conception).

R: Why are you in here?
Me: Can't I be in here?
R: What's wrong?
Me:
R: What's wrong?
Me: (you see I am quite the conversationalist when I am irrationally pissed off)
R: Helloooo?
Me: What did you say to your brother about me?
R: Nothing
Me: Okay, THAT'S a load of CRAP.
R: Well...T (my SIL) is...worried.
Me: About?
R: Well......they don't know whether or not they should invite you to her shower or not.
Me: (Eyes bug out of my head) I don't want to go. (Sobbing now)
R: I know. You don't have to go.
Me: If I don't I'll look like an asshole!
R: They'll understand.
Me: Yes, but no one else will! Don't you get it?!?!
R: No. Don't worry about it. (In a tone that means he's not telling me something)
Me: What have you done?
R: Well...
Me: Did you tell your mother?!?!
R: She's my mother. I told her to protect you.
Me: Arggggghhhhh.

And so it went from there. Until we got to this point.

R: I think once this is all overwith, you should write T. a note.
Me: Why?
R: To explain...you know...
Me: *choke, sputter* EXPLAIN WHAT?!?!
R: To tell her that you are happy for her. She likes you a lot you know.
Me thinking: But right now, I am most certainly NOT happy for her. As a matter of fact, I am trying to pretend that she and her blessed fucking pregnancy does not exist so that I may get through my day without turning into a driveling, sobbing mess every ten minutes. AND I could give a shit if she likes me so much that she thinks I'm the bloody queen of England.
Me: I'm not writing her.
R: They understand what you are going through.
Me: No, they do not. They think they do, but they don't.

Because no one does....well...except you all out there.

Pill Bugs

2004-09-24T18:34:00.000-07:00

I've been absent awhile. First a cold. Then I totally messed up my back and was out of commission. Now, just depression setting in. I have a baby shower to go to on Sunday. This would be my neighbor who is pregnant.
Let me tell you how thrilled I am.
It's not like I can even be inconspicuously absent. Not when this shower is only for the women on our cul-de-sac. That would be six of us, including the mom to be. Can't be absent with numbers like that. Want to be absent, but can't.
Do you think she would mind if I came intoxicated to the shower? I know. It's at 2pm. I can say that I went out to lunch with a friend and I had one too many margaritas.
Hey that sounds like something I might actually try.
Now who's available on Sunday?

I have been avoiding people like the plague. I don't want to talk to my mom. I don't want to talk to my friends. I don't even want to talk to my husband. I would really like to roll up into a tiny ball and stay that way-kind of like the pill bugs that the neighbor boy likes to catch and torture all the time.

Do you think they would notice if I decided to roll up into a ball in the middle of the shower if I get upset?

Guest #1: Hey. What's wrong with Erin?
Guest #2: Huh? Oh. She's in her protective ball.
Guest #1: How does she stay that flexible?
Guest #2: Hmmm...Must be that she hasn't had any kids yet. I used to be able to do that before I had baby number 1.
Guest #1: If we poke her, will she straighten out?
Guest #2: I think that will help. Give it a try.
*poke*
Guest #2: Nope. Guess not.
Guest #1: I know. Let's give her something to come out of her ball about. Tell her we are going to play some fun baby shower games!!
Guest #2: That's GOT to work!!

Ugh.

My life is a funny analogy

2004-09-14T19:17:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a bit better now. Not stuffy, just a little cough. Though I do have to say that I was scared shitless yesterday because I had three bloody noses. This, coming from someone that never had a single bloody nose until five years ago. A little bit scary. I don't think that the baby aspirin that I am taking is helping matters either.
On to less disgusting topics...
I am patiently *giggle snort* crossing my legs, tapping my fingers, humming a calming tune into what is now the wait.
At least I had a little warning this time. Which is nice.
But what was odd was the fact that I was not entirely motivated to do the deed this time around. Usually its me poking R in the arm asking him if he is ready to go have sex. Mmmm. Not so much this time. I don't know if this means I need a break, or I just am beat from having to go back to work...something to ponder.
At least I can't sit at home and stress over it all now that I have to work myself into the ground for the next nine months. Ha. How ironic is that. The school year is approximately nine months long (180 days in fact). Maybe it's the closest I'll come to giving birth. Nine months of growing pains, runny noses, tears over multiplication problems, kicking feet, having to pee but not being able to leave the room, and so on. How different from pregnancy can it actually be?
But alas, I have nothing to compare it to...

Pass the tissue

2004-09-12T13:26:00.000-07:00

Ack. I spent at least an hour on a very insightful blog the other night, and wouldn't you know it. My computer crashed. That is why I have been silent...I've been too pissed off to touch the keyboard.
Now I am sick too.
*cough*
And tired because my nose kept me awake all night.
*sniff*
And apparently this sickness has sucked all the creative tissue out of my brain.
*hack...gasp...*

Fried Green Tomatoes

2004-09-08T17:28:00.000-07:00

Okay. I've got tomatoes. Doesn't every infertile? I know that fertility is directly related to the fertility of your crop of tomatoes. So. My tomato plant is not doing so hot. But, I do have about 10 tomatoes there. But they are all green. And have been green for the past month. They haven't really grown. They haven't ripened.
What the hell does that mean?

Plain or Peanut?

2004-09-06T15:43:00.000-07:00

Before school starts, I usually have some pretty terrifying dreams. Typically, they feature screaming unruly 8 and 9 year olds that are out to ruin my day, if not my entire school year. Last night though, I had an altogether different dream. I had a vaguely..., okay, not vague, explicit sexual dream about Eminem. Hmmm...
I don't particularly like Eminem...sometimes he has a catchy rhythm, but normally I am a Sting type of gal. But I. Tell. You. What. In my dream, Eminem rocked my world. Yes I think he is a jackass. But. I will never be able to watch a video by him the same way again. I do have to say that I particularly enjoy that muscle that men get right above their hip. You know. The one that shows when their pants sit low and they are the proud owners of a hard body. Eminem has a good set of those muscles. AND by the way...my husband does too. A by-product of being an obsessive compulsive excersizer. Do you think my hormones are running away with me? Yup. Me too.
Whoa.
Maybe I need to go take care of that...

Bubbles up the nose

2004-09-03T08:21:00.000-07:00

Have you seen the new FRE commercial? The one that tells you that it is possible to be "a little bit pregnant"? It's trying to tell you that you can test earlier now, up to 5 days before AF is supposed to come. Well shit. I know you can be a little bit pregnant. I was. Twice. That is what I tell myself when I think of my blighted ovums. A little bit pregnant. But. Not. Quite. And who says I haven't already tested five days before AF. Shit. I test 5 days past ovulation, just so it isn't such a big freakin let down when the time comes for real. Sort of a psychological three card monty I like to play. But. I think most of us do the same thing, so I don't feel alone there.

I thought I was going to get away with no pregnancy or baby incidents at work. Yesterday was the last day of before school inservices before school starts on Tuesday. But.
1. Someone that had her baby over the summer came in during the meeting. We all had to stop and oooh and ahhhh. I had to stop choking on my fully caffeinated beverage that went up my nose when she walked in.
2. A colleague in my same grade level has a student teacher for a few weeks. She's pregnant. Not early-enough-so-that-I-can-pretend-otherwise pregnant, but REALLY pregnant. Crap.
3. Yesterday was 'meet the teacher day'. I had a mother ask me if I had kids. When I said no, she replied. "That's okay. Look at me. I'm an old mom, so there's no rush." I wasn't quite sure if I wanted to hug her for trying to give me hope, or knock her teeth down her throat. I chose to smile graciously and remember that I needed to fail her daughter.

And for anyone wondering if there are any movies that don't have a baby reference in them...
Well...I was going to say Hellboy (don't laugh, it actually wasn't that bad. I kinda liked it) but even THAT has baby Hellboy being adopted by the lonely scientist in the beginning. Crap. I give up.

The Numbers Tell All...

2004-08-31T23:05:00.000-07:00

Hallelujah, 'tis a miracle!! Not ONE pregnancy announced at our meetings! Now, you all that have anything to do with education, you know that this is a near impossibility. Here are some other statistics that are bizarre.

Only 30% of us can flare our nostrils. I'm one!
Men do 29% of laundry each week. Mine does 100%
Only 7% of women trust their husbands to do it correctly. I can't argue, because I hate to do it!
85% of men don't use the slit in their underwear.
67.5% of men wear briefs.
The average bra size today is 36C whereas 10 years ago it was a 34B.
85% of women wear the wrong bra size. Is that why I hate all my bras???
3 out of 4 of us store our dollar bills in rigid order with singles leading up to higher denominations. Guilty
91% of us lie regularly. Umm, no I don't.
27% admit to cheating on a test or quiz. Ummm...no I didn't.
29% admit they've intentionally stolen something from a store. A mother's day gift when I was 10.
50% admit they regularly sneak food into movie theaters to avoid the high prices of snack foods. Always
10% believe in the 10 Commandments. In a non-religious sense.
82% believe in an afterlife. Umm...dunno. Maybe something that looks like Fantasy Island???
45% believe in ghosts. Yep
29% of us are virgins when we marry. Ummm...no comment.
58.4% have called into work sick when we weren't. Guilty again. Doesn't calling in depressed count?
10% of us switch tags in the store to pay less for an item. Never. How does one do that anyway??
On average, we send 38 Christmas cards every year. I think I'll send Festivus cards this year.
20% of women consider their parents to be their best friends. Mom, yes. Dad, Hell no.
2 out of 5 have married their first love. That would be me.
The biggest cause of matrimonial fighting is money. I would have to agree.
1 in 5 men proposed on his knees. Not mine. Of course, we were outside, by a river, and it had just snowed. *awwwww*
71% can drive a stick-shift car. ME!
45% of us consistently follow the speed limit. Not a chance. I suppose that's why I just got a ticket.
2/3 of us speed up at a yellow light. Me again!!
44% of men tailgate to speed up the person in front of them. That's why there are permanent indentations on the passenger seat in my husband's car...
The average sexual experience lasts about 39 minutes. Ummm...I suppose so. Who times this shit anyway!?!
Men say the average erect penis is 10". Ch'ya!!
Women say it's 4". Maybe measuring tape is in order...
56% of men have had sex at work. Sure as hell better not have been mine!
1 in 3 of us have had an extramarital affair. Nope
62% think there is nothing wrong with affairs. What the hell planet do these people live on???
60% of men and 54% of women have had a 1-night stand. Ummm...no comment.

The BBQ

2004-08-30T07:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday wasn't too bad. I guess. For being torture. And since I indulged in a few beverages of choice, I dealt with it rather well I think. I managed not to talk to my pregnant neighbor hardly at all. I am sure that she thinks I hate her or something. She is very nice, but...you know how it is. Some of the folk on our culdesac didn't know that she is pregnant, and so I had to endure the 'ooohs' and 'ahhhhs' and crap that goes along with it. I steadily drank my rum and coke dry. The one with the newborn (who is the ugliest baby I have ever seen, and you know I would trade places with her, but still!) was unavoidable. She had terrible diarrhea of the mouth. Nonstop blab. I normally try not to listen to her too much. She gives me a migraine.
I sat next to my other neighbor (L), and she broached the whole subject with me. She's known that I had at least one m/c because I have basically turned into a hermit, and we used to hang out a bit. She's noticed that I am depressed. One of the other neighbor ladies (J) came over to us and insisted that we give a culdesac baby shower for the other gal. Gag. After J walked away, L broke the ice.

L: Say you'll come to the shower.
Me: I can't promise that.
L: I'll be your best friend.
Me:
L: Can I bribe you with alcohol?
Me: Only if it's really strong and only for me.
L: Done..........So........what's your status?
Me: What do you mean status?
L: Are you still trying to get pregnant?
Me: Yes.
L: Are you alright?
Me: I'll make it.
L: Have you had tests done?
Me: Several.
L: What kind?
Me: Blood, chromosome, dye tests of the old pipes.

and so it went...She was very understanding actually. She is the same age as me, but it took her seven years to get pregnant. Apparently she had stupid doctors too. It took 5 years for someone to figure out that her ovaries were fused to her intestines. Then two more years after operations for her to get pregnant. I had known that she had had some issues-but honestly, she had told me the story a few years ago, before R and I started trying to get pregnant. I didn't remember any of it. Now I will remember all of it. Shows how we can tune things out if it doesn't pertain to us, right? She told me that I could cry on her shoulder or she would go with me to appointments if I needed her to. I didn't know what to say, especially because I was trying my best not to bawl in front of 15 people in the middle of our culdesac. *Sigh*

So today, I am certainly on CD1. Before I started taking progesterone, my periods (at least the ones before the miscarriages) started out like a leaky faucet. I would spot for days on end, usually about five. Then I would have 2 days of normal period, then leaky faucet again for about five more days. Now, on these meds-there is no preperiod. In fact, I think I may need a blood transfusion at some point today because I think I am bleeding to death. Lucky me. If last cycle was the indication, I will bleed heavy for 3 days, and spot for 4 or 5. That's at least better than before. I have high hopes that I will have plenty of warning this cycle to have sex at the right time. I am not as depressed as I thought I was going to be. I was upset night before last, and cried myself to sleep, but that is an improvement I think.

Wish me luck. Today is my first day back at school...The day when all the announcements are made. *ugh*

A Society Obsessed

2004-08-29T10:17:00.000-07:00

(Warning: I give away some basic movie and book plots in this blog. Stop reading if you don't want them spoiled for you.)

Why is it that EVERY movie I see or book I read some has either someone having miscarriages, or someone pregnant? Can there be NO movies or books without fertility as a subject? And people wonder why we can get so obsessed over it, well...it's in our fucking faces every time we try to relax!! Here are just a few examples:

Movies:
The Ring: Who in the hell would have thought that a horror movie would have something to do with fertility! The mother in the movie has several miscarriages in a row, then finally gets pregnant with a devil child.
Secret Window: The ex-wife in the story asks Johnny Depp if things would've been different if she hadn't lost 'the baby'.
Cold Mountain: Nicole Kidman gets pregant after ONE night of sex. Ch'ya. Right.
Kill Bill: Again, who woulda thunk a Quentin Tarentino movie having to do with pregnancy???Uma is pregnant when Bill and his minions shoot her and her wedding party.
The Cooler: William H. Macy's son's girlfriend is supposedly pregnant.
Girl with a Pearl Earring: The maid in the story is warned against posing for her master Vermeer, stating that the last maid who did ended up 'with a babe' she didn't want.

Books:
The Twentieth Wife: A story about an Indian girl who wants to marry the Prince. She miscarries 2 or 3 times.
Any Romance formula novel: Every romance book of this type ends up with the 16 year old heroine pregnant at the end. Unfortunately, I have read about 6 of these this summer alone. Don't I know better???
The Time Traveler's Wife: She gets pregnant several times (seven or eight?), but loses each child because the time traveler has a genetic defect. After genetic therapy, they have a child.
Birthright (by Nora Roberts): Character finds out she is adopted. Mother had at least two miscarriages before adoption.
The Witching Hour (Anne Rice): Okay. So I have read this one before. Several times in fact, but I love it. Rowan finds she is pregnant, though with a psycho Taltos baby.

This is just a small portion of what I have read or watched this summer that had to do with fertility in some way.

I believe that there should be some sort of warning label on books, and an add on to movie ratings that warn about mentions of pregnancy, miscarriages, or fertility issues. Something like:

For movies:
RP: Some material may not be suitable for women who have experienced fertility issues. Women with fertility issues required accompanying tissue and/or Prozac.

NC-PG: No women with fertility issues admitted. Gratuitous pregnancies and/or miscarriages portrayed.

For novels:
This Advisory is a notice to consumers that writings in this novel contain strong depictions of pregnancy, miscarriages or fertility issues. Spousal discretion is advised.

Any other ratings or ideas? Let me know. I'll be reading my gardening books. At least I know they're safe....
Oh yes, I suppose that you do have to deal with fertility in gardening. Damn. How about my cookbooks. I'll just skip everything that has yeast in it.

Today

2004-08-29T08:54:00.000-07:00

Today my culdesac is having a neighborhood barbeque. Sounds cute right? Well, I would rather have a tooth pulled than go to this thing today. Let's see....the neighbor across the street is as nosy as all get out, and just had a baby in March. Mmmm...makes for a great combination, right???? Then my neighbor on my left is pregnant and due in September. Right around when I would have been. Fan-fucking-tabulous.
Anyone want to join me in a little rain dance?

The Ring

2004-08-28T11:55:00.000-07:00

I am not a religious person. I don't believe in God, I was raised believing in the laws of science. My bachelor's is in Anthropology. So, in particularly trying times in my life I don't pray to God. I don't tell myself that a pregnancy will happen in "God's own time" or when "God wills it". Sorry if I offend, but personally I think that all is a load of bunk. It's very convenient that God gets credited with all the good things that happen in world, but slips out of responsibility for the floods, fires, and miscarriages. Sounds like a corporate CEO who blames his VP's when he doesn't cut that deal he so wanted.
BUT-this entry is not meant for religious debate. I want to tell you who I do pray to.

My grandma.

When my parents got a divorce when I was five, we moved up here to the Northwest. We didn't have anywhere to go, so we lived with my grandparents until we found a home. We did find a home, 3 blocks away. My grandma watched me before and after school until I was old enough to be a latchkey kid. She was a registered nurse who smoked cheap cigarettes and drank Rheinlander beer. She was tough. She was stern sometimes. But she loved me more than anything because I was her only grandchild.

She died when I was 14 and she was 86.

Soon after she died, I had a 'dream'. I dreamt that she was standing at the foot of my bed, surrounded by light. I couldn't lift my head, so I wasn't able to look at her directly. But I knew it was her. I knew it was her and I felt safe. I felt like she was telling me that she was going to watch over me. That's what I told myself then.

So when I get extremely upset, and I don't know where to turn it's her that I pray to. Not as if she were God or anything, but like she could influence whoever is in charge up there. Sometimes-and yes, I know that this sounds completely nuts-I 'hear' responses from her in my head. I know it is my subconscious acting the role, but nevertheless, many times it comforts me a bit.

When she died, the only thing that I was willed from her was her engagement ring.

I have decided that I am going to wear it, without taking it off, until I get pregnant again. And stay pregnant. The whole nine months if I can. I have turned it into sort of a good luck charm. I am pretty sure that it didn't work this month, but it will, damn it. It will.

And I'm not taking it off until it does.

Watch this.

2004-08-23T21:53:00.000-07:00

Ohhhhh. I cried when I saw this.

Madame Zoira is in the house

2004-08-22T18:43:00.000-07:00

When our friends from Alabama came to visit, we went to the waterfront. In Seattle there is this store that is pretty famous. It's called the Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe. Inside there are odd and bizarre things like the mummified remains of a two-headed calf and several different styles of shrunken heads, along with the typical souvenier mugs and cheezy wear-it-as-much-as-you-can-before-you-wash-it-cuz-it'll-shrink-four-sizes t-shirts. In this store, there is also an old fashioned fortune telling machine. You know. The kind that was in the movie BIG with Tom Hanks, with the scary looking gypsy lady inside. You insert a quarter or three and it somehow miraculously reads your palm and tells your fortune. Well, I didn't have quarters, but there was a pamphlet for sale that told how to read your own palm. Of course I started looking for the This-is-how-many-babies-you-are-going-to-have line immediately. Apparently, underneath your pinky on your dominant hand (the most creased, not necessarily your writing hand) there is a crease that runs left to right. This isn't the one that runs from under your pinky to between your pointer and middle finger, it's the one above it. On the picture below it is called the Union Line. Well...the number of lines running through it is supposed to tell you how many children you will have. On my left hand there are three lines through it, though faint, and on my right there is one very strong line. So...shall I take the average of the two?? Ha ha.

Apparently, this wasn't enough self flagellation, so I was dinking around the other day, and came across a site that gave a free tarot card reading. Being the gullible person that I am of course I had to try it. You are supposed to concentrate and ask a clear question. I suppose you all can imagine what my question was. Here's what my cards show:

how you feel about yourself now (The Hierophant)
You feel a need for advice or wise council or perhaps spiritual consolation. Someone, or perhaps immediate events, will provide moral and practical guidance. Perhaps you are considering being such a tutor, counsellor or spiritual advisor? You desire the tried and tested traditional values, so when considering your options, this approach will prove wiser than adopting an unconventional novel approach. For example, marriage is more likely to be your desire than a living together situation.

This is rather funny, because lately I have been considering going to an acupuncturist and a chiropractor to try something new.

what you most want at this moment (The Fool)
The cards suggest lwteacher, that what you most want at this time is just to be happy, and you are searching for the one thing that will bring happiness. You want a new start but feel unsure of what you want or where you want to go. Romantically you have mixed feelings regarding another - part of you wants to enter the relationship wholeheartedly, part of you wants to hold back. So if you are in a relationship that empowers you, stay, if not it is time to move on.

The first two sentences are so on the mark, its frightening. I don't think I'll being having an extramarital affair, or getting a divorce anytime soon though...

your fears (Justice)
There could be agreements or legal affairs that concern you and you certainly don’t want to lose - you feel quite strongly that you are in the right. Stay calm and level headed and seek sound counsel if you need to.

This doesn't apply unless you consider any argument R and I ever have-I always feel strongly that I am in the right. LOL.

what is going for you (Death)
A time of absolute endings and brand new beginnings, your life is going through a period of great transformation. Whilst it may be difficult or even painful you will pull through. You will be free for a brand new phase in your life.

Okay. But I would love it if you could give a timeline as to when I will pull through, or when this new phase will start.

what is going against you (The Tower)
However hard you try to control events they just won’t go your way. Unexpected challenges, upheaval and disappointment will bring expectations to an end. Subconsciously you may have wanted a solution, you just didn’t expect it to happen this way. Use this period of change as an opportunity for a new beginning. If you have been planning to move home you will be experiencing setbacks.

Ain't this the truth!! Hit the nail on the proverbial head!

outcome (Temperance)
A period of peace and harmony, life will flow and you will find a way of handling any difficult circumstances with calm confidence. This is also a time for patience, so if you are not sure quite what decision to make about any key issue, take your time you’ll know what to do when the time is right.

AHHHH! PATIENCE! What a 7-letter word that is! But, again, this totally fits!

I did this totally just for fun, but now I am a bit spooked too. Of course, I know that fortunes can be twisted to fit any situation, but geez.
Maybe if I paid lots of money to someone to really read my palm or my cards or my tea leaves, I'd get clearer answers?
I'll have to look into that....

$0.11

2004-08-22T11:05:00.000-07:00

I've been away for awhile. It's not particularly that I had blogger's block, or that I was doing something exciting. I just didn't have anything exciting to report.
Not that I do now, either, so don't get too excited.
After a few days of frantic bd'ing after my mystical ovulation occurance, I now am waiting patiently snort giggle guffaw to do my testing. Not that I am in the least bit hopeful you understand. I wasn't prepared. We weren't prepared. Ugh. I know that it supposedly only takes once. I don't usually have a lot of luck though, so I don't expect much. Not to mention that now I'm all hormonal because of these stupid progesterone crotch nuggets. Doesn't help my mood at all. I even bought some tonic in preparation for the large gin and tonic I will have when I confirm my suspicions.

Although- I do have to say, on three separate occasions since I ovulated, I have found money on the street. Two nickels and a penny. That never happens to me. Does this mean luck, or does it mean that I am so depressed I have a hard time lifting my head? I would like to think that the nickels represent a larger amount of good luck, kind of like:

Find a penny pick it up, and all the day you'll have good luck
as opposed to
Find a nickel pick it up, and for nine months you'll have good luck.

Does that sound plausible to you? Yeah. I am struggling with it too. But grasping at straws is what I do best.

I am certainly glad that school is starting again soon. It will help me take my mind off everything. I went in for a meeting this past Wednesday and not two minutes into it, our head secretary asked me if I was pregnant. She predicted that this would be a baby boom year-we have several newlyweds on our staff. I tried whole heartedly not to melt into a puddle of tears on the spot. I succeeded by denying any pregnancy vehemently. Probably going a bit overboard, but I think I stemmed some further questions. Now all I need to do is get through the first few inservice days. Those are the toughest. New pregnancies are announced then. Normally, there are at least two. Hopefully I will see it coming and be able to sneak out the back door during that conversation.

At least the teachers in my own grade level (there are 5 of us altogether) know that I was patently psycho and morbidly depressed the last...oh...5 months of school for reasons I know they have speculated profusely on. One knows for sure, because she asked the wrong question at one of my weak moments I had missed a staff meeting to have blood drawn to confirm that a miscarriage was immenent. She (my colleague) told me what I missed, and one of those items was that a staff member, who was married after me, is younger than me, and hadn't been trying for very long was pregnant. I wasn't intending to tell her, but I burst into tears. Kind of like Olive Oil-tears sprouting and flying off my face in all directions. Well, I am sure this colleague is not too good with secrets, so I wouldn't be surprised if the other teachers in our hallway know what is going on with me. Or they did at the end of the school year anyway. Takes the burden away of them saying anything to me about getting pregnant, so that's a good thing I suppose.

So, if I can make it, I will test next Saturday or Sunday. *snort snort knee-slap sigh* Until then, I'll keep looking for that change on the ground. You never know.

What the fuck

2004-08-15T09:37:00.000-07:00

So today I pee on my little stick, and Monty says I am at peak. Today. Day 13. There were no high days, there is no ewcm, nothing. Shit. I haven't even had sex for...well let's just say that I am not fucking prepared for this.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit

I am hoping that somehow I fucked up the test and it is innaccurate. I don't ovulate this early. I don't. I don't. How can you go from low to peak in one day?!?!?! And EARLY to boot?!?!?

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit

Tabasco with that baby ma'am?

2004-08-10T15:15:00.000-07:00

Alright. The clock ticks again. Monty started demanding my pee this morning, and that is usually a sign of my imminent depression. Damn he's brutal. It seriously passed through my mind to not use Monty this cycle, for shits and giggles, you know. To see what would happen. To see if I could not be as much of a stress case, and 'just relax'. Well, we know how well this was going to go right? I can't get rid of Monty. He means too much to me. We have a history.
So, I peed on my stick, and I am 'low' today. Duh. I could've told anyone that. But, I was too afraid to not pee on the stick, just in case ovulation decided to come early this month. Which it won't. I am lucky in the fact that that part of my body works in a fairly regular fashion. Well, except after D&C's of course.

Started walking again. Needed to after four days of pasta with cream sauce, seafood in cream sauce, and desserts in cream sauce. J's daughter has bible camp or some such this week in the mornings so we are blessed with her absenteeism. Makes the walks a bit calmer with only one brat around (oh my. Did I say brat? I meant to say endearing child...). But I swear (profusely and loudly in my head), does every conversation have to do with babies and pregnancy?!?!?!

J: Oh you just have to see so-and-so's baby! She is SOOOO big!

Me: Mmmm? Overfed maybe?

J: She looks like a little sumo wrestler, and I just want to eat her up!

Me: I can offer you some tabasco sauce to help get her down, if you like.

J: And get this!! So-and-so is pregnant again!

Me: Really? It obviously doesn't interfere with her 'not-being-married' status then.

J: I just couldn't believe it! My kids are 16 months apart to the day, and hers will be too! Isn't that amazing??

Me: Yes. That is amazing! Did I ever tell you that both my pregnancies lasted to 6 1/2 weeks to the day. Yes, yes, I am pretty proud of that fact myself.

Why do I torture myself, you ask? Because I don't know anyone else that will walk with me on a regular basis. And I need someone to walk with, or else I will sit on my lazy ass and play on the internet all damn day. Besides, she employs me sometimes (she does catering) and I need the money, so I don't want to alienate her.
Getting back to the bible camp thing. What a joke. J is about as religious as I am, so sending her daughter to bible camp is just an excuse for free babysitting. Well, I am probably less religious than her, at least she cops to belonging to a particular faith. I just cop to not having faith in anything except my own mind, and sometimes even that is shaky. I get the impression that many, if not most infertiles have difficulty with religion. This might be because, frankly, 'in his own time' sounds just about as good as 'just relax'. I realize that many find comfort in thinking that another controls their fate. Sounds a bit like battered wife syndrome to me. Kind of like- 'Hey, take several well-placed swings at me until I am bloody and bruised. But I know you know what's right for me and eventually will do something to fulfill my dream of becoming a mommy.' Buuuuullllloney. This little infertility/multiple miscarriage thing has done little to encourage me to say any Hail Marys or confess my sins. Besides, if I had to confess my multitude of sins, I'd be there so long, I would miss my next ovulation day.
Now wouldn't that be a shame?

Vacation from the mind

2004-08-08T11:12:00.000-07:00

Well. That wasn't too traumatic. She didn't walk off the plane pregnant. That was my biggest worry about our friends' visit. Actually, the first thing she did was to complain heartily about the screaming undisciplined child in front of them on the flight from Denver. I smiled at that point because I knew that if she were pregnant, chances are she would think that sort of behavior was 'cute' or 'precious'.
So they came in and we had a lovely dinner at a local restaurant. I, of course, insisted that we order a lovely Cosmo as the last test of her non-pregnant-ness. *Home Run!* She drank with great verve. From that point on, until they left this morning at the crack ass of dawn, I did not dwell on the facts of my reproductive failures.

It was quite a relief and I am glad that they came.

They didn't ask ONCE when we were going to have children.
There were no comments on how cute pregnant women looked when we saw them out and about.
There were no pauses when we walked by an adorable baby or child to ooooh and aaaaah.
Alcohol flowed aplenty.

All in all, their trip was probably more beneficial for me than for them. But they don't need to know that.

We did all the touristy stuff that you don't normally do in your own town, except when people visit. We did a harbor and locks cruise, Pike Place, and ate at Elliott's on the first night. If you are ever in Seattle, Eat. At. Elliot's. Make sure you order the scallops in the buerre blanc sauce. If you ever have a food related orgasm, it will be because of those little gems from the sea. The next day we went back to Seattle and did the Space Needle, EMP, the Science Fiction Museum, and the Science Center. Then yesterday-we went to Elbe, population 21, according to the 2000 US census. Elbe is the home of the smallest Lutheran church in the world I believe. And also a cute little railroad that takes you up to a cute little lake. Then we went to Northwest Trek to see the animules. We ate a lot. We drank a lot. We had a great time.

I can't wait to visit them in Alabama next year. We talked about going to Atlanta as a side trip. I would LOVE that. I don't know much about Atlanta, but all I do know is that I want to see Peachtree Street. I don't CARE if it has a Piggly Wiggly on the corner and chain link fences around the homes. To me, it's important.

On the other hand, I would much rather have to miss the trip due to an impending birth or something. But if that doesn't happen, the trip will be a good thing.

Diagnosis by proxy

2004-08-04T08:55:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to me!
Happy Birthday to me!
Happy BIRTHday to meeeeeeeeeeeee!
Happy Birthday to me!

R gave me a beautiful bracelet for my birthday. He done good.
BUT
There were so many segments on the Today show about babies this morning that I had to turn it off. Sorry Matt Lauer. I think you're hot, but I can't watch while your show focuses on what causes me pain. Then there was this conversation with R this morning, after I told him about the couple that we know through association of my walking friend that lost their baby at 13 weeks.

R: R2 (brother in law) told me some things the other day, too.

Me: Mmmm? Like what? (feeling trepidation)

R: He's worried about you, you know?

Me: Why would he be worried about me? What have you said?

R: (avoiding the question) He and T (SIL) were at the doctor the other day...

Me:

R: And he pulled the doctor aside...

Me: (oh shit)

R: and told him about what was going on with us.

Me: Great.

R: Their doctor said 'Oh, tell them not to worry about it. I see it all the time. They'll get pregnant, trust me."

Oh, this is just fan-fucking-tastic. Now doctors 200 miles away know about my issues and I'm getting second hand diagnoses.

Maybe my BIL can find out why I keep getting these headaches too. *sigh*

Need balls anyone?

2004-08-03T21:17:00.000-07:00

I'm very tired. I'm a grumpy, crampy, zitty, you name it-y hostess to Auntie Flo. The bitch. Not to mention tomorrow is my birthday. I would like for it to not be my birthday. I would like that very much because I don't want to get older. The older I get, the louder I hear that clock in my head.

tick tock tick tock tick tock

It's getting very irritating and extremely distracting.

Just got back from my walk. My walking friend (we are still crossing our fingers for a particularly nasty bladder infection and NOT pregnancy) mentioned a friend of theirs that had a miscarriage recently. At 13 weeks. I don't even know the poor girl and I almost cried for her. I could tell J. wanted to (REALLY wanted to) say more, possibly even ask me about mine, or prod me into talking about it. But I didn't give in. I wasn't tempted really either. She knows about the first one, but as far as I know, she has no idea about the second. I am saving that one for a really good zinger when she says something stupid. I would like to shock her out of her pants really. Not that I don't like this woman, I do. But sometimes she says things without thinking of the impact of her words. She doesn't say things to be mean, far from it, she is one of the most giving people I know. BUT like 99.9% of people that haven't experienced a miscarriage, she thinks that a month or two later she can say whatever she wants about pregnancy and it won't bother me. This is truly amazing to me, because I know her sister had at least two miscarriages because of a (I'm not sure of the correct term here) bicornate (heart shaped?) uterus, and had to have surgery to correct it. Of course, I haven't said anything to her either, so I am partially to blame. But I wonder when she says things like

Will you just look at those baby twins? Aren't they just soooooooo adorable? Look at them! I just want to eat them up. And look at her! She doesn't even look like she's been pregnant!!

or

Ooooh! Look at her with her cute pregnant belly!

These words seem innocent enough. But to me, to us, any undue attention brought to any infant or pregnant woman while in my (or our) presence is a serious offense. What I really want to say is

Yes, she looks great. It may be though that she has had several miscarriages and gone through years of fertility treatments, invasive procedures and drugs and the reason that she may look so good is that possibly those babies came from a surrogate and she's had plenty of time to work out her anger and frustrations by working out and walking like me? Do ya think?

Ugh.

Moving along...
I went to the local white trash super store that will remain nameless with R yesterday. He needed to get big balls. Get your mind out of the gutter! I am talking about the gigantic can't-get-your-arms-around-them type of bouncing balls for school (he teaches elementary PE), for some sort of game he plays with the kids. I hate this store more than anything, mostly because it is horribly disorganized, and also because the people that own this particular store are against public education, which my husband and I are proudly members of. BUT he needed the balls, and we didn't know where else to get them cheap, so we went.

WHAT was the FIRST thing I saw when I got out of the car in the parking lot???

A greasy, dirty pregnant woman in a tube top and overalls SMOKING A CIGARETTE. Shit. I am almost surprised she didn't have a Schlitz in her other hand. Why are people like that allowed to procreate freely? Why when I have a nice home, bathe regularly, have some fashion sense, and generally have the faculties to be a good parent, am not able to have children at this current time. I wanted to tell her that if the baby was not that important to her, yet the cigarette was, I'd be glad to buy her a carton to switch places with her. AHHHHHHHH!!!!

But you should have seen the looks in kids eyes inside the store when we had all those balls in the cart! Well, three would fit in the cart. I carried one, and R. carried one. Every kid we passed had to pick their jaw up off the floor. R kept saying

Hope you didn't want any of these balls kids, cuz I got 'em ALL! or something like that.

R, being the smartass that he is, loves kids and kids LOVE him. He can relate to them. He teases them relentlessly, and they LOVE him for it. The kids at his school fawn over him-one class even wrote a play about him and performed it for the school and parents! He has endless patience and will make such an awesome daddy. Someday.

When we got out of the store, there was some very large and in charge dad screaming at his kid, while the hoochie-mamma he was with in spiked heels (who wears spiked heels to this store?!?!?) and a see-through mesh tank top stood there snapping her gum.

Jimmy! What the fuck you doin' ? Get the fuck over here before I beat your ass!

Sometimes the world does not make sense to me.

Tomorrow we have friends coming in to visit us from Alabama. We are excited to see them and show them around-There could only be ONE thing that could ruin it. If she walks off that plane pregnant (I know they were thinking of starting to try soon) I will promptly throw myself under the nearest landing gear in motion. Wish me luck.

My dream

2004-07-31T19:35:00.000-07:00

I had an interesting dream last night. I dreamt that I was with a friend from high school. Let's call her Amos (I have my reasons why). Through the grapevine I know that she has PCOS and has gone through over two years of infertility hell-treatments and pokings and such.

In my dream we were talking about how we were going to go on this wonderful trip across the United States. We were very excited and I remember packing party clothes. I think that a tour bus was supposed to be involved. I know the itinerary was to include Boston and New York, because I saw a map in my mind, with the red line moving from one city dot to the other, kind of like in Indiana Jones' movies. We got on a plane and stopped in this beautiful town with brightly colored buildings. But it was horribly cold and the sky was an ugly gray color. There were many hills, and I remember thinking,

Holy crap! I hope these people have cars to get up those hills!

Then we looked around and saw that we were with a bunch of gray haired old people. This wasn't supposed to be our tour! Our tour was supposed to be fun and lively and...a happy experience. We weren't in the US anymore. I could see a map again, and we were in Northern Canada, near the Arctic Circle. Our destinations were all centered there, and none of them seemed to be hospitable. Then we were being pushed towards this old, rusty looking pile of junk that I think was supposed to be a 707. I kept screaming to Amos-

This is NOT how it is supposed to be!! This is NOT how it is supposed to be!!

Then Amos said to me-

Don't worry, I think at the end of this trip, we end up in Toronto or Montreal. I hear both places are beautiful, and I know we'll have a fantastic time there.

To which I felt an enormous amount of relief.

Then I woke up. Pretty bizarre eh?

Yahoo's definition of the day

2004-07-30T17:49:00.000-07:00

RANCOROUS
DEFINITION: (adjective) expressing bitter hostility
EXAMPLE: This woman is disgusted by recent stupid statements, and seems more rancorous than ever before. (ok, yeah, this part is modified a bit.)
SYNONYMS: acrimonious, indignant, nastiness

I couldn't agree more. Especially when the person I walk with every day commented that she "hoped she wasn't pregnant" because she's had to pee a lot lately. Grrr.

Let's hope it's a bladder infection, or I'm going to blow a gasket.

Resistance is Fu-tile

2004-07-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

Damn. I POAS today. Damn. I guess you can figure out how many lines I saw.

Damn.

I know it is early. But I couldn't help it. I got those cheapie tests in the mail, via Canada. Love those Canadians for giving us Americans the availability of cheaper medical supplies and drugs. They were staring me in the face. I tried EVERYTHING to avoid them. I put up the decorations that were down from above our kitchen cabinets (we had them refaced a while back). I vacuumed the sills in the bedrooms (Uck. It was like a mini version of the Jonestown massacre. Little legs up in the air all over the place). I even cleaned the fucking bathroom. I never clean the bathroom. That is strictly an R. job, an understanding that has been unspoken, yet sacred. Give me laundry, give me dirty dishes, give me dusting, but keep that disgusting toilet bowl cleaner out of these hands. I KNOW where it's been! Blech.

Resistance, however was fu-tile.

I peed last night, then this morning. *sigh* It's early. I've been through this before. But now I've completely ruined my day, and more than likely R's day, because he will take the brunt of it. I feel bad for him because he never knows what to say. But then I am pissed when he doesn't say anything. Poor R.

The thing that really sucks is that I have no twinges, no boob pain, no fatigue (other than my crushing depression), therefore, that means that my period is right around the corner. Except, since I am on progesterone, I guess I get to make the choice as to when. I suppose that is a bonus. But Monty, Let's Make a Deal, instead of me taking this 'bonus'. I'd REALLY like to see what is behind Door #3 instead. No? Well, maybe next month then.

Habit Forming

2004-07-28T14:32:00.000-07:00

I have this awful habit.

I find something that I think I would like to do, and tend to focus on it non-stop for a period of time. You could say I go through phases. I know that I have found a hobby or interest that will stick around awhile if it doesn't become a chore within...say...three weeks. Here are some things that have tried and failed (and trust me, this is by FAR an incomplete list):

1. knitting-I got pissed when everything would unravel, and NOTHING I did was even. Hobby self destructed in: 2 weeks.
2. video games-I even bought a damn Xbox. But it makes me motion sick, so now my husband has adopted it. Hobby self destructed in: 2 days
3. gardening-This is a recurrent hobby that lasts a total of two weeks every year. If I don't get my annuals in the ground by the end of the two weeks, forget it.
4. Quilting-Okay, this one lasted only long enough for me to get through one quarter of a really cute quilt. Damn. Hobby self destructed in: 3 weeks
5. Writing my novel-Yes, I want to write a book, preferrable a fantasy fiction novel. I can't seem to get on a roll for over 2 weeks at a time. By the time I pick it up again, I've lost the thread, and forgotten my research. This has been going on for about 3 years.
6. Rollerblading-Yeah. That lasted once. Long enough to get bloody on just about every joint on my body.
7. Tae bo-After a while I couldn't stand to see Billy Banks ANY FUCKING MORE!! Hobby self destructed in: 2 weeks (though I have gone through 3 or 4 bouts)
8. Collecting miniature Caithness glass vases-This one self destructed after one purchase because I can't afford the damn things, pretty though they are.

But I do have to say that I have hobbies and interests that have lasted awhile! Here are some of those:

1. Cooking-I love to cook, and have since I was little. Bring it on Emeril!
2. Reading-I never met a book I didn't like. Well, except for that stupid book I read about a female messiah-didn't quite hit the "DaVinci Code" mark.
2. Stamping-Didn't wanna get into it. Didn't wanna pay for it. Neighbor is a consultant. Damn. Been doing it for 2 years.
3. Teaching-yeah, well, I know that it ain't a hobby, but I got interested in it on a lark, and here I am, an experienced teacher!
4. Obsessing about getting pregnant-That started way before we even tried to start conceiving, about a year before.
5. TTC-It's in my every waking thought, and I relate everything I do to it. I am sure you all know what I am talking about.
6. Gathering information on miscarriage-yeah. Been doing that for quite a long time now.
7. Being a computer geek-I love to try new things on the computer. This blog, for instance. And since I have been doing it for over three weeks now, that can only mean one thing.

You're stuck with me.

Some things I am going to do to make sure I get pregnant

2004-07-27T09:42:00.000-07:00

1. Plan a ski trip during Christmastime. To a place where there are lots of difficult trails.

2. Redecorate a room in my house. I will be sure the stock up on noxious chemicals and solvents. I'll also have several things that are very heavy that I will be forced to move on my own.

3. Get a new trim wardrobe. Full of form fitting skirts, pants and dresses.

4. Stop taking all the vitamins, supplements, hormones, and snake oil that I am currently indulging in.

5. Go out for sushi. Lots of it.

6. Get loaded on my birthday, which is coming up here quickly.

7. To help me go to sleep at night, take my remaining Vicodin pills, left over from last D&C.

8. Tell all our friends and family that we are going to stop TTC. Permanently.

9. Put away Monty. (See earlier post)

10. Pretend like I am 16, don't want to get pregnant, and have sex in my parent's house after they're asleep.

11. Take a long, hot dip in the jacuzzi.

12. Order that triple venti caramel latte that I really want.

13. Have sex when we want to, instead of when we have to.

Any other suggestions? Let me know! :)

Tomorrow is D-day

2004-07-25T19:22:00.000-07:00

Today is the 25th.

Today is the day that my inlaws are going to my BIL and SIL's house to stay the night.

Today is the day that they will find out that my SIL is pregnant. Is 12 weeks pregnant. Like I would have been today.

Tomorrow is the day I will hear about it, and although I have known that SIL is pregnant for a while, hearing about it from MIL and FIL will suck.

Big time.

R. and I were invited to come down there with the inlaws. SIL called last week or so and I happened to answer the phone.

SIL: So Ron and I were wondering if you would like to come down on the 25th with Dave and Mary. You could stay the night and we could hang out the next day.

Me: (oh shit. Like I need to be hanging around a pregnant woman now. A pregnant woman who called to tell us that she was pregnant on the DAY that I found out that I was going to miscarry. A pregnant woman who has the same fucking due date as I would have had)
Uh...I don't know...

SIL: C'mon, it'll be fun!

Me: (Yes, I am sure that listening to you tell the details about your pregnancy to our inlaws will be just fucking GRAND) Well, I don't know if we have any plans...I'll have to talk to R.

SIL: Okay. Call us back when he gets home???

ME: (Only to tell you to shove this invitation up your ass sister) Alright.

Later on R came home.

Me: SIL called.

R: Mmmm?

Me: SIL called and she wants us to come down there, stay the night, and be a witness when she tells your parents that they're pregnant.

R: She SAID that?

Me: Well, no. She did ask us to come down though. You know what's planned though, right? (an evening of pure torture while SIL and MIL trade pregnancy stories)

R: You don't want to go. (statement, not question)

Me: What do you think?

R: I'll take care of it. (This would be why I love him so much)

I don't know how the conversation with R and BIL happened, or when, or what was said and I don't care. I wasn't there and I am glad of it.

Does my SIL know about our miscarriages you ask? Yes, she knows. She even knows that they called to tell us on the most disasterous of days.

Why.In.The.Hell. would she ask us to come to witness her unveiling ceremony?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Before she and my BIL got married, when they were dating, she had an abortion. Then she got pregnant after they got married on 'accident'. Lost that one at about 9 weeks I believe. Has she totally forgotten what this all feels like? She must have. Or else she wouldn't have been so thoughtless. You'd think that she would be concerned a bit about my feelings.

You'd think.

Maybe she wants all to know that they are first again. They were first to buy a house. First to get married. First to do this, that, and the other, even though they are younger than us. Could she be that...petty?

I would have never, EVER, thought to tell my news in such a way if the situation was reversed. And it WAS at one point. The first time we were pregnant. We went down with the inlaws and I had several chances to let the inlaws know (BIL and SIL knew already), BUT I thought that it would hurt SIL's feelings to tell with them sitting there. So.I.Didn't.

The next day I started spotting. A week later I had my D&C. Lucky I didn't tell them, eh?

So. Tomorrow I will spend as much time as I can out of the house and make the answering machine pick up the dreaded message. If the phone rings, I will avoid it like the black plague. I'm good at that and have a 'sense' when MIL calls.

I'm like a human caller I.D. And tomorrow, in the words of Martha Stewart, that will be a good thing

Delusions of grand proportions

2004-07-24T10:23:00.000-07:00

I am more secure in my delusions right now. What in the world does she mean, you ask?? I'll explain.

As I have mentioned, I have been excercising lately. I don't like to do it, but I am actually experiencing some success, so I will continue the everyday torture until I plateau. Then I will go back to eating my peanut butter pie, thank you very much.

But for now, I walk every day or evening, about 2 miles or so. That's far for me, so don't laugh. And, well, there is an interesting side effect that walkers and runners get.

Sore nipples.

There's hardly any avoiding it, short of walking with bared breasts. I am sure that I would get an odd look or two from the men I see jogging every day on the trail I use, so I will put that rather interesting thought aside.

I know that runners often wear vaseline or bandaids to cover them up. I know that there are athletic bras to wear, which I do, but that doesn't stop it. I tried putting little cotton face pads in my bra to stop the chafing. Not quite sure that that helped, but I know that it was pretty funny to see myself with a white tshirt on over those. You could see them very clearly. Needless to say, I changed shirts a.s.a.p. In the end though, those little circles of cotton are better left to makeup and nail polish removal.

It didn't quite dawn on me that the walking could be causing this. I was getting a bit excited when this all started happening around 2 dpo.

You can see where I am going with this right?

I thought that by miracles of all miracles, I might be showing very extremely horrendously early pregnancy symptoms a la sore nips.

Then my husband, the athlete, rained on my solo parade and reminded me of what I already knew. He, of course, didn't know what crazy idea I was nurturing inside my feeble brain. Lucky him.

But, I don't like that explanation. So, I threw it out. And slammed the door. Loudly.

I don't like the fact that I have to trick myself into a few days of possible happiness through demented delusions about why the nips are sore.

But I'd say it's a hell of a lot better than how I was feeling before, so grab me a straightjacket and I'll happily slip my arms in for the time being.

My pal Monty

2004-07-23T09:30:00.000-07:00

Please tell me I didn't screw this up.

Please tell me this will be ok.

I faithfully depend on my ClearBlue Easy Fertility Monitor. I pay homage to it. It has gotten me pregnant twice, no matter if I didn't produce a baby either time. I got pregnant twice from using it. Therefore, I regard it as an idol. It has a special place in my bathroom, and I keep very good care of it. It wants for nothing. If I were a religious person, I would even consider a shrine. But I'm not, so I don't.

It rules my life. Well, at least my sex life. R. and I rarely indulge in fun and games when Monty (the monitor) says no. Monty has final say as to when I should test, when I should have sex, when I should be sad because AF comes.

Sometimes I trust Monty a little too much.

My doctor prescribed me Prometrium. This should be simple to use, and be the cause of a bit of relief, even though I have no proof yet that this will solve my issues. But it's a start right?

It's a start when you think you have used it correctly, at the right time.

I am 'paranoid TTC woman' to be sure. If I am not worried that I am not going to ovulate, I am worrying that R and I didn't do the deed enough. I worry that we did it too much. I worry that we didn't do it at the right time of the day. I worry about anything and everything that I can think of, and some things you can't.

Including this.

Monty has shown me these readings for the past week:

High, High, High, Peak, Peak, High, Low, Low

I started my Prometrium on the night of the first low. And NOW I am completely and totally second guessing myself.

Did I start it too early and fuck up my chances for this month???

Sigh.

I would like just ONE friggin' day where I am not worried about my TTC woes. Just one. That's all I ask.

Maybe I should pray to Monty. I'll get right on that.

:(

2004-07-21T13:15:00.000-07:00

Oh I am so sad. Heartbroken for someone I don't even know. Didn't even 'meet' until a few weeks ago when I was looking for someone to inspire me to be strong.

I'm so sorry Getupgrrl. I'm so sorry.

Miranda, Charlotte, Carrie, or Samantha??

2004-07-20T17:29:00.000-07:00

Has anyone ever asked you which character from Sex and the City you are? I know who I am, though it isn't very clearcut.
My personality is definitely Miranda. I am sarcastic, bitter, and fairly untrusting of the male species. I hate it when somebody tries to help me with something, especially if it is a male. I'm pretty brutal with my opinions when I finally speak up and vent them. I suppose this is where the similarity end though. I don't have a baby. I guess that would make me like Charlotte's character then. On my second marriage, happily, of course. Trouble with fertility. Considering adoption if necessary. Hmmm...
Which character are you?

Hold the Press!!

2004-07-18T19:25:00.000-07:00

I've been excercising lately. I don't usually do this, you understand. I hate to excercise. I don't understand how people really want to sweat. No thank you, I'd rather read a book and enlarge my vocabulary. But recently, I did the inevitable. Something I have been avoiding since...oh the time of my first miscarriage.

I weighed myself.

And almost passed out.

Holy Christ! No wonder my shorts aren't fitting me and I end up wearing the same thing every day!! Now I am not obese, or even extremely overweight. Just...thick, you might say. And honestly, I probably shouldn't be too surprised. My basic attitude since the first m/c about food has been *Fuck it*. I figured, well, if I can't have a baby, I can certainly have that peanut butter pie, can't I? Now instead of being pregnant, I just look that way anyway.

And that's just freakin' FABULOUS!

So, I have started walking about 2 miles a day on this beautiful trail that is near our house. I walk with a friend of ours and her two toddlers. Yeah. You heard me. Her two toddlers. Seeing as I get choked up when I see mothers and their babies nowadays, this is a grand feat. And I've done it 6 days in a row. You may not be impressed, but six days in a row is cause for celebration in my book.

Back to the toddlers. You have to understand. I love these kids. We hang out with this family quite a bit. But lately, they have been total shits. I'm talkin' if I weren't trying so hard to get pregnant, these kids are the perfect birth control. They kick, they scream, they sass their parents constantly, they are spoiled...oh I could go on and on and on.

However, I realize perfectly well that -no- I don't have children and therefore I keep my mouth shut. Which is a good thing, because if I told the mom what I really think of her child management skills, she would never speak to me again. The word 'no' is not in her vocabulary and she NEVER follows through on what she says. Good God almighty, if I were her kid, I'd walk all over her too!!!! I am a teacher, so I do know the value of meaning what you say. Ugh. Every time I come home I swear to myself that my kids will never be like that.

Then I stop myself.

Because then I realize that:
a) I may never have my own children and
b) if I am lucky enough to finally have my own, considering what I have been through, I will probably spoil the shit of them.

Life's twisted, ain't it?

Blast Off!

2004-07-17T20:01:00.000-07:00

Yeehaw! We have ignition, Houston, we have ignition!
Tis ovulation day ladies, and this here girl is taking full advantage of the situation. I've got the props ready.

Pre-seed....check
mood lighting...check
pillow and towel...check check
fingers crossed...check check check check check

Now on to watching a little Sex and the City.

MnM's and Psychology

2004-07-16T01:03:00.000-07:00

I admit it. I SUCK at remembering birthdays.

That is what is keeping me up right now. I got a call from my mom a few days ago. She told me that she knew that a friend of mine from my masters program got married and had moved and did I want her new address? (Long story of how she knew first, which I won't go into) Of course I did. But it got me thinking. I haven't talked to this girl in three years. How did time slip away so fast?

I blame it all on my elementary school experiences.

I have always been terribly shy. People often mistake it for being snobby. I know, because once they get to know me, they tell me that at first I scared them. Happens frequently, so I am used to it. Anyways...I can remember a few of my elementary experiences vividly.

I remember in third grade, I had two friends-Susan and Suzanne. We all had the same tshirt- a yellow MnM tee that someone's mom had bought for us. We were the MnM club and we met under the stone picnic table at recess. One day, S and S decided that they were going to ditch me. And they did. Many times. Until the end of the year. So third grade basically sucked for me.

Later on, I became friends with a larger group-the cool group. I must've been more like a mascot or something, because I know I was kinda dorky. I can still name them most of them: Natasha, Andi, Kelly, Shari, Sybil, Rachel...You know how elementary girls are. They are kinda like sharks when there is chum in the water. Their eyes roll back up into their heads and they attack without compunction when they smell weakness. I managed to avoid the attacks by keeping a low profile. I didn't talk too much. Until I wrote Natasha a note telling her that she was a cool friend. The next day, noone would talk to me. I came home every day for a month, sobbing because of them. If any of the above mentioned girls are reading this now, here is a message to you, personally thought out by me for the past twenty years:

Fuck off, and I hope you all have miserable lives!

After elementary school, I became a bit more choosy about my friends, AND I tended to be the one to break off the relationship. In other words, I don't keep friends very well. I am lazy about friendship. I forget birthdays unless it's my own, or an immediate family member. I don't call regularly. I let huge amounts of time go by before I call or write. Subconscious at work maybe? Trying to save myself the pain? I don't keep in contact with high school friends, college friends, people I met in former jobs, in my master's program. I am pretty much a loner-well, I do have friends at work, but I am a teacher, and during the summer, I am pretty much a hermit and out of contact.

When my mom told me about the girl that got married, it made me think about the friendship that we had. She was in my wedding for chrissake. And I have no idea why we stopped talking. There was no fight, no nothing. We just...stopped hanging out together. It made me realize how I have isolated myself much of my life, after I got married, and ESPECIALLY after my miscarriages.

So, I got on the internet, and I looked up a few college friends. The first one I looked up, the last time I talked to her was-oh-4 years ago. I knew that she was getting a PhD in Child Psychology at that time. I punched her name in the computer, thinking that there was no way I was going to find her. Hel-lo! The first hit that popped up was a listing for her private practice. Wow. That was a neat feeling. I was roommates with this girl. I held her hair when she threw up after God knows how many 2-for-1 zombies at the local bar. I borrowed her clothes. And now she is a psychologist. Like a real professional. Amazing. I am going to write her tomorrow. We'll see if she writes back, because I don't know why we stopped talking either. And I miss her because she could always make me laugh until I peed my pants (or her pants, on occasion).

There is another girl I want to contact too. We were close in high school, and somewhat in college, but since have drifted...I know through a mutual friend (yes, I DO have one constant that has been around since junior high, only because she constantly forgives my transgressions) that she has been trying to get pg for over two years now. No luck. Not exactly like my situation but that's okay. It's weird how you can worry about someone you haven't seen in a year.

I actually think I am going to write a few other old friends too, if I can track them down. I won't call, because I don't want to hear the rejection in their voice that I will imagine is there. If they don't answer my letter, I can tell myself that it was lost in the mail.

But at this point in my life, I'm thinkin' isolation ain't so cool anymore.

Just don't expect me to remember their birthdays.

A-OK (for now at least)

2004-07-14T15:28:00.000-07:00

When R and I went in for my post D&C exam after miscarriage #2, my OB did the best thing possible for me.

She told us that she had had six miscarriages before she had her two children.

Now, some of you may think that an OB telling a patient that they had so much trouble (shouldn't she have figured out her problem right away?) getting pregnant and staying that way would not be a good thing. I thought it was perfect because it made her human. It made her like me.

She then proceded to get down to business. Her exact words were

I have been thinking about you and worrying about you since this all happened. (A doctor thinking about a patient, ME, for two weeks???) I don't want you to have to go through the pain that I went through because you don't have answers. Let's order up some bloodwork.

I didn't ask about cost, because I was pretty sure my insurance wouldn't cover the testing anyways. But she said she could help me out with this.

I don't want you to have to go through another miscarriage just so your insurance pays for testing. I will make sure that it's covered.

Oh, Dr. C. I heart you.

So then I moved on to the vampire's chair. The vampire working on me that day was very kind. While she took my 14 or so vials of blood she insisted on giving me her granola bar from her own lunch so that I wouldn't pass out. You see, apparently after miscarriages, I tend to not treat my body so well. That day I think I had a vente caramel latte for breakfast, and that was it.

Thank you vampire lady.

I had the myriad of tests, even some that I had asked for myself, because I had done research on the internet. Dr. C. got a kick out of the fact that I said I knew just enough to be dangerous. I am probably even a bit more dangerous now, so watch out. Anyways, then there was the wait.

The results came back in a matter of weeks. All except my and R.'s karyotyping.
I wasn't necessarily worried about the blood tests for the most part, because I figured that most things that are found wrong can be fixed or dealt with at least with meds.

Except for the chromosomes. Those little buggers are damn near impossible to fix, therefore causing the highest amount of anxiety. Back to that in a bit.

My Protein C was slightly elevated, so Dr. C. insisted that I go see a specialist. She recommended Dr. W, and suprisingly I was able to get in within a week. Dr. C's office was surprised too, because they had to scramble to get my info faxed over. But they did so successfully.

R. and I went to the appointment together. He comes to all the appointments with me. I don't think I could do all this if he didn't. Dr. W walks in and...HOLY SHIT, this guy just walked off the set of General Hospital! Ay yi yi. Don't get me wrong. R. is very handsome, sexy, and I love him with every fiber of my being etc. etc. But Dr. W.? Wow. Made it difficult to concentrate, you know? It's hard enough to concentrate on all the large vocabulary words RE's like to spew out during a consultation!

He went through my results-apparently the Protein C being a tad elevated is not an issue, it's when it's low that it's a problem. So we go through the meeting, and this Dr. was so positive that I would get and stay pregnant, I wanted to hug him. He sounded like he would try to bend over backwards for me. He more or less said he gets paid to see me get and stay pregnant. That's what I needed to hear from him. He gave me progesterone to start when we started TTC again, and told me to schedule the HSG I had on Monday.
My first thought was:

Omigod! There is NO WAY this gorgeous man is going to look at my hoo ha!!!!!

Luckily, he was on vacation when I had it done, so Dr. Rottie was the fill-in. A trade off to be sure.
Thank God (or whoever) for small miracles.

Anyway, we walk out of the office and before I get a chance to say anything, R. says

You are SO not allowed to go to see that doctor without me along.

He was kidding of course, and we got a good laugh out of it all.

And still we waited for the results of the chromosome testing. I called Dr. C's office twice within the next couple weeks, to see if they were in and just hiding them from me. No luck. R and I debated over the consequences of a bad result.

Would we do IVF? Yes
With a donor egg or sperm? Yes.
Would we ask his brother to donate? No. Too wierd.
How would we pay for it all? Dunno. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
Would we tell people we were doing it? Only the necessaries.
If that didn't work? Adoption would be ok too.
And on and on.

Well, yesterday, I was DETERMINED that I was going to find out the results of these chromosome tests, if I had to call the lab itself in Kentucky or wherever the hell it is to find out. I called Dr. C's office yesterday.

Guess what!? They had the results.
Guess what!? Apparently I am a normal female, and R is a normal male.

So we got that goin' for us. (anyone a Caddyshack fan?)

It is a serious load off my shoulders, even though when they do karyotyping they don't check for every single little thing. But close enough for me for now. So unless I have some obscure disorder, my miscarriages have been just cruel tricks of mother nature-damn her to hell. A part of me wishes that I have something tangible wrong with me, so that there could be a way to fix it, so I could put a name to it all. But the larger part of me is happy about the results so far.
Happy, yet very afraid to try again.

Running the gauntlet

2004-07-12T12:52:00.000-07:00

Well, I went in for my HSG today. I had been psyching myself up for it you know. Reading everything I could about it, trying REALLY hard to not be paranoid about the pain I knew it was going to bring.

The procedure itself was not the hard part, of course. It was the staff that has seemed to forgotten how little and petrified women feel when they come in for one of these things. Noone comes in just for shits and giggles.

Hey honey! I'm kinda bored today. I'll rev things up a bit by getting an HSG!

NOT

SO I check in. The woman entering my info on the computer seemed nice enough. Asks me my insurance information. Yada yada. Then her evil twin suddenly takes over. She proceeds to tell me that my insurance probably won't cover it. cluck cluck.

Thanks lady. I knew that already.

Me: Okay. Well, do you know how much it will cost then?

Evil Twin: I'll check for you in a minute.

Me:

Evil Twin: Well, you never know. They don't cover it for...like...pregancies, but you have other problems, so, who knows.

Me: Uhhh...

Evil Twin: How long have you been dealing with this then?

How long have I been dealing with this? Like it's back pain, or an irritating tooth ache? ARRRRRGGGHHHH!!!

Okay. So I get past this. Deep breath. I am led to the changing room where I get the nifty set of pajamas that I always wanted and the nurse decides to question me too. Of course when she gets to the part about

Any live births?

My mind instantly goes blank and I forget the power of speech. I shake my head mutely, trying very hard not to sob on this strangers garish pink and orange smock. I suppose I answered more questions, but it seems I also lost my short term memory because as soon as she is gone to let me change, I forgot what she told me to do after I was dressed. So I sat there.
I suppose that after a while someone noticed I was not forthcoming, so she came to get me to lead me to the torture chamber. On our way to the rack, she glances at my chart.

Nurse: Hmmm...I see you have been here before!

Me: Yes (gulp)

Nurse: Looks like you've had a few ultrasounds!

Me:

Yes, as a matter of fact, I have had a few. Each one of them ending in me being a basket case, and some rather unpleasant trips to the surgicenter at the hospital!

Oh, she was nice enough I suppose. I imagine that she was a plant to offset the horrible Dr. I-Am-As-Pleasant-As-A-Pissed-Off-Rottweiler that came in to do the procedure.

Dr. Rottie: RRRRuffff! Hello, I am Dr. R and how do you do? I will be shoving this horribly cold and large speculum up your hoo ha today.

Me: hi nice to...

Dr. R: Grrrr.... Then I will stick this very long tube job in there and inflate a balloon the size of Miami. You will be in a lot of pain when this happens.

Me: ...meet you?

Dr. R: Ruff, bark, etc.

He had obviously used cliff notes to pass Bedside Manners 101.

After all was said and done, I apparently have (and I quote) 'perfect anatomy' and everything looks good. Well, I guess I am happy about that. But it doesn't answer any questions either.
*sigh*
Can I assume that my miscarriages are 'flukes' and try again? That would be any day now...
T minus (approximately) 5 days and counting...

Waiting for the shoe to drop

2004-07-11T12:00:00.000-07:00

So I read all the posts on miscarriage boards to make me feel like there are other people in the world that have messed up bodies like myself. Most of the time it comforts me to know that there are others out there that know how I feel.

Sometimes I want to chant like I am one the little kids I teach

Liar, liar pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire...

The one's I want to do this for are the one's that say how pissed off and upset they are that everyone they know is pregnant, except for them. THEN they go on to say how happy they are for thier friend, sister, SIL, etc... I think most of them are full of crap. They say this because they are embarrassed at how bitter they are about the situation they are in. Me? I have no problem with being bitter.

My SIL is pregnant right now. She is due at the SAME time I would have been. Am I happy for her? No. Do I feel guilty about this? Yes, just a bit. But at least I am honest about it. I don't want to see her. I don't want to be at the birth. I don't want to hear about happy ultrasounds, because I myself have never had an ultrasound that hasn't ended up with me being a hysterical mess. Do I like my SIL you ask? Yes, very much. But that doesn't mean that I have to be happy for her does it?

The rest of the family doesn't know yet about SIL's pregnancy-SIL and BIL have been able to keep it secret because they live a few hours away from family. They plan to wait until she's showing enough to make it obvious.

Lucky me.

Since my SIL and BIL are younger than R. and I, I fully expect the looks that say:

"What's the deal with you two? You aren't getting any younger you know, and I want grandkids!"

They (my inlaws) don't know about our miscarriages. I don't think I could have stood the pity or the stories about how easy it was for my MIL to get pregnant. I have heard them before you know. When she hinted about wanting grandkids before. Hinted like a brick to the head.

So I wait for the shoe to drop...

Drugs, drugs, the wonderful fruit, the more you eat the more you...

2004-07-09T16:19:00.000-07:00

What the hell.
I went to FM today to fill a prescription for an antibiotic I need to take for my HSG on Monday. I just wanted to silently slip in, get it done, then do my grocery shopping.

The pharmacist, on the other hand decided he was going to make me feel like jumping over the counter to throttle him in front of the 10 customers waiting and his 3 assistants.

Me: I have a prescription to pick up.

Nosy Rx: To drop off?

Me: No. To pick up. It should have been called in yesterday.

Rummage rummage rummage

Nosy Rx: Ah, here we go. What is this for?

Me: 'Scuse me?

Nosy Rx: These are odd directions for an antibiotic...hmmmm 'Take two before HSG'. Is that a procedure of some kind?

Me: (choke) Ummm...yes. (glance back at small crowd gathering in line)

Nosy Rx: What is an HSG?

Me: (when I realize that he will not look away until I answer) Umm...it's to check your uterus (fucking dumb ass nosy son of a bitch)

Nosy Rx: Hmmmm....(look of obligatory pity) Well, you can't have dairy products, antacids, multivitamins, or iron supplements within two hours of taking this. Oh, and you need to wear sunblock too, because it makes you sensitive to the sun.

Great. So I can't eat the bottle of Tums that sounded so appetizing after this wonderful conversation with a stranger about the state of my uterus whilst a small crowd watched with awe. Brilliant.
Next time I am going to get my drugs illegally online from Canada. Just give me a few days notice please.

Boys Don't Cry

2004-07-09T08:15:00.000-07:00

Well, I don't even know how to start this, I am so angry. Yesterday was our anniversary. We celebrated on Monday by going out of town to a cute little town in the middle of our state. Of course AF showed up right when we got there, obviously with the intent of killing me with loss of blood. Anyways-yesterday was our anniversary and as we were lying in bed last night, I wished DH a happy one. He tells me that he's sorry he didn't say it earlier because he has had a lot on his mind
(okay- let me say that I didn't mind that part too much because we celebrated earlier. I also need to explain something else before I go on. My DH is a serious athlete. He trains year round because he does triathalons but has lately been plagued with slight injuries. He hasn't been able to compete as of late.)
Of course-silly me- I think he's been thinking of me because I have been depressed lately, and therefore baking up a storm trying to make us both fat. Well, no. He's not been thinking of me. He's been thinking about his injuries and how he is frustrated that he may not be able to compete this year again. Ok. Fine. I can deal with that too. But THEN he starts to CRY for chrissake. He never once shed a tear when we were miscarrying, when my world was crashing down around my hopeful head, when I needed him to cry with me, to show solidarity you know. But he can cry over this. I am totally dumbfounded and hurt and savagely angry about this. As a side note, I am also a bit thrilled because I believe that his bike-riding could have a link with our problems, and I have been secretly wanting him to stop for a long while while we are trying. I love him dearly, but I am afraid that if he looks into my eyes he will see that I want to kick in his perfectly straight teeth right down to his toes!

My first try

2004-07-08T15:26:00.000-07:00

Well hello there. This is my first try at this, so you must be patient. Although I am not technologically challenged, I tend to be cautious my first time out with new adventures.
I am writing on this silly black screen because I feel like at times I cannot talk to anyone else. My husband wants to rip the computer out of the wall because I spend so much time on it. At the moment though, I don't particularly care what he thinks. I am fairly angry at the world right now, and since he is part of it, he is included in my wrath. Since I don't particularly believe in God, I can't rant at him, so the world takes the brunt of it. Or I keep it inside.
SO, what am I mad about? Well, as you can tell by the title of this journal, I want to be a mother. So far, two strikes on that account. Noone can really tell me what the fuck is the matter with my oh so rebelling body. My blood seems to be fine. I am fairly healthy (though I could stand to excersize some), I am a good person. I teach little kids for pete's sake. I deserve a child. What I do NOT deserve is the months of agonizing pain and depression that I have been going through as I suffer through two blighted ovums. WOOOEEE! I am one of those LUCKY few that this happens to. Blighted ovum. I feel like I am a sick crop of potatoes.
What I wish for:
I wish for the world to be a fair place. Like, for women who don't want to be pregnant to not be, and for women who DO want to be pregnant to be so.
I wish for my SIL to keep her mouth SHUT around me when she starts talking about her pregnancy that is going oh so well.
I wish for Kristen to STOP talking to me about her two kids when I call to be comforted about my two losses.
I wish a place at the doctor's office where I don't have to see teenagers pregnant with their trashy unemployed loser of a boyfriend reeking like cigarettes next to me. Oh and you can take all those damn baby magazines with you, thank you very much. How about a couple of stress squeeze balls and a boxers punching bag instead?