I just...don't even know what to say.
I've had two weeks to come to terms with things. If a loved one dies, you have what: three days off work? A week? I suppose, depending on your work situation, you could take compassionate leave for longer than that.
I basically spent the first week of post retrieval taking compassionate leave from my life, and spent the second half in denial, and here we are again, at Day One. I am so NOT ready for Day One.
I still don't have an answer back from my sister. At this point, my gut reaction is that she has had three weeks, and if she is still not sure, then it's not a decision she should make: and she therefore has no business getting caught up in this nightmare.I called today, and left a message: basically saying that we were holding up the process for an answer, but if she still wasn't sure, we would need to know ASAP, as a lot of huge decisions hinge on this.
This presents a problem. Do I move forward? With what? I have two months left in the Bay Area. I have called another clinic for a second opinion: while I love my current clinic, I feel like it's a disservice to not at least consider input from someone else. I spent most of the day making phone calls- to see if someone can move up my consult at the new place (no: or not much) , to alert them that it's Day One at my current clinic, to my acupuncturist asking what I should do herb-wise, the aforementioned call to my sister, a few calls to my husband, and another question to my new clinic when they didn't initially call me back within a few hours.
I am now exhausted, and a giant ball of emotion, because of the answers I needed, I got few. I did talk to my doc at the current clinic. I explained that on the basis of one retrieval with no egg, I felt like I wasn't quite ready to accept that the rest of the batch was crappy. I explained that The Man doesn't want to adopt, and refuses any other donor than my sister. We only have two months left in the Bay Area. W have to do this now.
He doesn't want me to cycle this month. He wants me to talk to someone else. He doesn't think I am ready to handle another round- that decisions made under the stress I am under aren't ideal. His contention is that both doctors I mentioned are good, guys he knows, and he wants me to be sure before I move forward. He also made the point that if we go with donor eggs, this buys us time.
I tried explaining that donor eggs from anyone other than my sister are not an option for us, and that going through this process again, with a new clinic, in a new town, was something I really didn't want to do. And if she says no, if it's between my potentially crappy eggs or nothing, I choose my crappy eggs. That we had come here, to this HORRIBLE place, for the express purpose of doing this, and that I didn't think waiting was going to change anything in any positive way.
He doesn't see it the same way. So I guess my decision has been made for me. It doesn't make me feel better. In fact, it makes me feel worse. I won't be able to start up at the new clinic in time to "use" this cycle- and that's if they think I can even manage on my own. It also means that I'll potentially be going through either my last round of IVF or a donor transfer at Christmas time, which is pretty much guaranteed to be extra stressful, if not a total trainwreck, no matter how you slice it.
At this point, my only option is to wait, and/or call the acupuncturist and see what he says: he alluded to some ideas of his, but was unwilling to share his ideas. I guess it's time to get aggressive.
Showing posts with label Explanations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Explanations. Show all posts
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Gratitude
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
Tomorrow will mark getting through one week. I feel like my entire perception and worldview has shifted since last Thursday.
While it's been awful, it has also shown me that the last ten years have not been wasted. There are so many wonderful people out there- who have reached out to me and shared their own experiences, and commiserated with me about my personal situation. You ladies rock.
I may be poor in eggs, but I am rich in friends. ;) That certainly can't be overlooked.
Tomorrow will mark getting through one week. I feel like my entire perception and worldview has shifted since last Thursday.
While it's been awful, it has also shown me that the last ten years have not been wasted. There are so many wonderful people out there- who have reached out to me and shared their own experiences, and commiserated with me about my personal situation. You ladies rock.
I may be poor in eggs, but I am rich in friends. ;) That certainly can't be overlooked.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Reboot
Here we go again!
Another 28 day cycle. Another Saturday start. At least some things are predictable. ;)
I went in today for the baseline ultrasound. We saw a follicle getting started (on the left, of course) and then discussed the plan. This time, some Clomid, a small amount of Gonal-F the week prior to ovulation, and then the trigger shot- plus some kind of drug that is supposed to serve as "backup" in case my body doesn't want to wait until the appointed time. It locks the egg in the follicle somehow.
I was appalled to see that the drug that serves as "backup" was about $5 out of pocket at the pharmacy. I realize that my situation is rare but knowing that a $5 prescription could have saved us thousands of dollars, a lot of blood sweat and tears, a month's time, and a few acres of frustration is...well. Infuriating.
So- Clomid was a doozy for me last time. We will see what we get out of it. I got great results last time: tons of follicles, along with The Crazy. So I will be really careful to avoid any movies containing babies....actually, animals or babies, since both made me cry hysterically last time around. Do Not Want.
The fridge is stocked, the yoga DVD is out, I went to the RE, then acupuncture, then took my first dose of Clomid tonight...so it should be all systems go. Fingers crossed.
The Man said he was looking at SUV's online today, "just in case". It melted my stony, frozen heart. Granted, he was very excited about one that seats 9. I think he may be getting way ahead of me, here. He tried to make the excuse that it was because the back seats could fold down so we would have room for kids and dogs. Uh-huh.
Another 28 day cycle. Another Saturday start. At least some things are predictable. ;)
I went in today for the baseline ultrasound. We saw a follicle getting started (on the left, of course) and then discussed the plan. This time, some Clomid, a small amount of Gonal-F the week prior to ovulation, and then the trigger shot- plus some kind of drug that is supposed to serve as "backup" in case my body doesn't want to wait until the appointed time. It locks the egg in the follicle somehow.
I was appalled to see that the drug that serves as "backup" was about $5 out of pocket at the pharmacy. I realize that my situation is rare but knowing that a $5 prescription could have saved us thousands of dollars, a lot of blood sweat and tears, a month's time, and a few acres of frustration is...well. Infuriating.
So- Clomid was a doozy for me last time. We will see what we get out of it. I got great results last time: tons of follicles, along with The Crazy. So I will be really careful to avoid any movies containing babies....actually, animals or babies, since both made me cry hysterically last time around. Do Not Want.
The fridge is stocked, the yoga DVD is out, I went to the RE, then acupuncture, then took my first dose of Clomid tonight...so it should be all systems go. Fingers crossed.
The Man said he was looking at SUV's online today, "just in case". It melted my stony, frozen heart. Granted, he was very excited about one that seats 9. I think he may be getting way ahead of me, here. He tried to make the excuse that it was because the back seats could fold down so we would have room for kids and dogs. Uh-huh.
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
And the waiting begins.
I woke up promptly this morning. Someone down the street was screaming frantically and banging on something metal- over and over again. Our dogs both started going berserk.
The Man leapt out of bed, threw on some pants and went charging out the door and down the sidewalk.
Unfortunately, it was a tourist from some Germanic place. She had somehow locked herself in the public bathroom down the street, and started panicking- screaming for her husband at the top of her lungs and banging on the metal door. The Man strode up to see her befuddled husband standing, gaping, outside the door.
I got the story when he returned- he evidently let her out, then went inside the bathroom, and easily opened the door twice.
As a female who has traveled extensively, you do dumb things occasionally. Granted- hopefully they are not at 6AM. At this point, my adrenaline levels were through the roof, thinking that someone had been assaulted, or was being eaten by a giant space whale. I will attribute that last theory to being groggy, and to having watched too much Dr. Who in the past week.
So The Man and I snuggled up for a bit, and then he went to work. I crashed again soon after he left. It's been a quiet day- I have been cooking and stuff, and at some point was reading a book, petting one of the dogs with my feet, until I realized that it was not in fact a dog. It was a furry black Ugg boot, which I left under the coffee table last night.
So yeah. I am still somewhat woozy. Back to taking my acupuncture herbs, and doing my best to stay upbeat and not worry.
The Man leapt out of bed, threw on some pants and went charging out the door and down the sidewalk.
Unfortunately, it was a tourist from some Germanic place. She had somehow locked herself in the public bathroom down the street, and started panicking- screaming for her husband at the top of her lungs and banging on the metal door. The Man strode up to see her befuddled husband standing, gaping, outside the door.
I got the story when he returned- he evidently let her out, then went inside the bathroom, and easily opened the door twice.
As a female who has traveled extensively, you do dumb things occasionally. Granted- hopefully they are not at 6AM. At this point, my adrenaline levels were through the roof, thinking that someone had been assaulted, or was being eaten by a giant space whale. I will attribute that last theory to being groggy, and to having watched too much Dr. Who in the past week.
So The Man and I snuggled up for a bit, and then he went to work. I crashed again soon after he left. It's been a quiet day- I have been cooking and stuff, and at some point was reading a book, petting one of the dogs with my feet, until I realized that it was not in fact a dog. It was a furry black Ugg boot, which I left under the coffee table last night.
So yeah. I am still somewhat woozy. Back to taking my acupuncture herbs, and doing my best to stay upbeat and not worry.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
All in all it's just- another shot in the gut.
Oh Cetritide! It burns us, my precious.
Just got back from my ultrasound. Lefty came up with a 14, and Righty actually coughed up something: a teensy 7, but I will take it. I may have uttered a tiny "Gooo Righty!" when it popped up on the ultrasound monitor. Which, of course, everyone finds amusing.
So, now we are trying to decide what to do. I just gave myself the burny Cetritide shot, so I will impede ovulation, and give the follies a few days to get their act together. Dr. Charming said he saw several smaller follicles as well, which may be noteworthy later, but didn't want to poke around any further. (Getting a peek at that follicle on Righty was stressful for all of us.) So right now, it's still all about that one follicle on the left.
We had a little chat, and my options are as follows.
A. Go ahead with this cycle, in the understanding that it's got to be "The Little Ovum That Could". Be prepared for many Highlander quotes. "There can be ONLY ONE!!!"
B. Quit. Cancel cycle, start over next month.
C. Pursue a Natural Cycle IVF approach. Get me off drugs, collect the egg or two I make on my own every month, and put them on ice (flash vitrification!) until we have a few of them. Then do IVF. I asked about risk to egg quality, and he said it's about 10%.
D. Donor eggs. Still not ready to accept that one.
E.Killing spree. Wait to see how things look on Friday. If I have two viable follicles, go with option A. If I just have one, Option C.
Based on personal feelings and discussions with The Man, it's looking like E- "Some of the Above" is the answer, at least right now. Actually, The Man REALLY likes Option C. Possibly because Dr. Charming used the words: "Flash vitrification is like Star Wars- you know, when Han Solo gets frozen in Carbonite?" I guess he knows his audience.
Just got back from my ultrasound. Lefty came up with a 14, and Righty actually coughed up something: a teensy 7, but I will take it. I may have uttered a tiny "Gooo Righty!" when it popped up on the ultrasound monitor. Which, of course, everyone finds amusing.
So, now we are trying to decide what to do. I just gave myself the burny Cetritide shot, so I will impede ovulation, and give the follies a few days to get their act together. Dr. Charming said he saw several smaller follicles as well, which may be noteworthy later, but didn't want to poke around any further. (Getting a peek at that follicle on Righty was stressful for all of us.) So right now, it's still all about that one follicle on the left.
We had a little chat, and my options are as follows.
A. Go ahead with this cycle, in the understanding that it's got to be "The Little Ovum That Could". Be prepared for many Highlander quotes. "There can be ONLY ONE!!!"
B. Quit. Cancel cycle, start over next month.
C. Pursue a Natural Cycle IVF approach. Get me off drugs, collect the egg or two I make on my own every month, and put them on ice (flash vitrification!) until we have a few of them. Then do IVF. I asked about risk to egg quality, and he said it's about 10%.
D. Donor eggs. Still not ready to accept that one.
E.
Based on personal feelings and discussions with The Man, it's looking like E- "Some of the Above" is the answer, at least right now. Actually, The Man REALLY likes Option C. Possibly because Dr. Charming used the words: "Flash vitrification is like Star Wars- you know, when Han Solo gets frozen in Carbonite?" I guess he knows his audience.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Holy Toledo
Of course, after I wrote my obligatory, "You know what? I am fine!" post yesterday and signed off....there was the unmistakable rumble of thunder on the not-so distant horizon. The kind where you know that soon the music is going to start, and the funny guy (or the stupid girl, or both) is going to die.
By the end of the day, Hurricane Hormones was in full effect, and woe betide anyone who got in my way. Luckily, I recognized the signs, and forced myself to leave my cocoon/nest/fortress to get provisions before things got really, really bad.
I somehow managed to make it through without bludgeoning the Trader Joe's cashier to death with a can of coconut milk while screaming, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU HIGH!!!!!!!!?"
I seriously don't know how I did it, because generally, a. everyone around here IS high 75% of the time, and b. by the time I got home, I was apoplectic about the way my groceries were bagged. Something that I would typically roll my eyes over and maybe merit a sigh, became a SUPER HUGE DEAL. The Man listened to me spew crazy profanity while I alternately vented, laughed about how insanely I was behaving, and then started venting again. I've turned into some kind of obsessive-compulsive bipolar lunatic, seemingly overnight. I think that KNOWING you're carrying on like a psycho, but being unable to help yourself, may be one of life's more frustrating experiences.
Mom called to ask how I was doing. I said, "I am getting a divorce and running away from home!" and then burst into hysterical laughter. I am sure she found it really reassuring.
God it's hot in here. Is anyone else hot? Just me? I am wearing pajama shorts and a tank top and the a/c is on and all the fans are maxed out. I look at The Man, and he is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt- layered OVER another shirt. My face is all red, I am all sticky and gross. I am ready to strip down and run screaming through the streets, bludgeoning any potentially doobie-smoking members of the populace with my handbag, and spewing profanity at douchebag cyclists- identifiable by their spandex outfits- at random.
This can't be good. Luckily The Man has promised to restrain me if I get really wacky. At this point, I don't know if he can stop me. Demon hormones are more powerful than- really powerful stuff. Also, if I leave him, who can be relied upon to build me a bed of ice? Did I mention how effing hot it is?! RARGH!
That's another thing. I tend to rely on my wits somewhat, and they have completely deserted me. DAMN YOU HORMONES!!!!! You made me crazy, hot, AND stupid. I hate you! Unless you prove to actually work, in which case, hormones, I may forgive you. Eventually.
My doctor's appointment is tomorrow afternoon. I talked to Dr. Charming today, and he basically said that I am right- depending on what we see tomorrow, we will move forward. If there's still only one follicle, we can still do that, but the chances aren't great. Or we can cancel the cycle, and try again next month.
I was all good, until he mentioned donor eggs, and then I got all emo. (BECAUSE MY EGGS ARE OBVS ALL OLD AND REPTILIAN IN THEIR BARREN LEATHERINESS.) <----see that? Those are the hormones talking. Bastards!
Have I mentioned that I SUCK at waiting? Because that would not be an inaccurate statement.
By the end of the day, Hurricane Hormones was in full effect, and woe betide anyone who got in my way. Luckily, I recognized the signs, and forced myself to leave my cocoon/nest/fortress to get provisions before things got really, really bad.
I somehow managed to make it through without bludgeoning the Trader Joe's cashier to death with a can of coconut milk while screaming, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? ARE YOU HIGH!!!!!!!!?"
I seriously don't know how I did it, because generally, a. everyone around here IS high 75% of the time, and b. by the time I got home, I was apoplectic about the way my groceries were bagged. Something that I would typically roll my eyes over and maybe merit a sigh, became a SUPER HUGE DEAL. The Man listened to me spew crazy profanity while I alternately vented, laughed about how insanely I was behaving, and then started venting again. I've turned into some kind of obsessive-compulsive bipolar lunatic, seemingly overnight. I think that KNOWING you're carrying on like a psycho, but being unable to help yourself, may be one of life's more frustrating experiences.
Mom called to ask how I was doing. I said, "I am getting a divorce and running away from home!" and then burst into hysterical laughter. I am sure she found it really reassuring.
God it's hot in here. Is anyone else hot? Just me? I am wearing pajama shorts and a tank top and the a/c is on and all the fans are maxed out. I look at The Man, and he is wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt- layered OVER another shirt. My face is all red, I am all sticky and gross. I am ready to strip down and run screaming through the streets, bludgeoning any potentially doobie-smoking members of the populace with my handbag, and spewing profanity at douchebag cyclists- identifiable by their spandex outfits- at random.
This can't be good. Luckily The Man has promised to restrain me if I get really wacky. At this point, I don't know if he can stop me. Demon hormones are more powerful than- really powerful stuff. Also, if I leave him, who can be relied upon to build me a bed of ice? Did I mention how effing hot it is?! RARGH!
That's another thing. I tend to rely on my wits somewhat, and they have completely deserted me. DAMN YOU HORMONES!!!!! You made me crazy, hot, AND stupid. I hate you! Unless you prove to actually work, in which case, hormones, I may forgive you. Eventually.
My doctor's appointment is tomorrow afternoon. I talked to Dr. Charming today, and he basically said that I am right- depending on what we see tomorrow, we will move forward. If there's still only one follicle, we can still do that, but the chances aren't great. Or we can cancel the cycle, and try again next month.
I was all good, until he mentioned donor eggs, and then I got all emo. (BECAUSE MY EGGS ARE OBVS ALL OLD AND REPTILIAN IN THEIR BARREN LEATHERINESS.) <----see that? Those are the hormones talking. Bastards!
Have I mentioned that I SUCK at waiting? Because that would not be an inaccurate statement.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Hope springs eternal
I got a call on Friday evening. It was Dr. Charming. Uh Oh.
Essentially he said my ovaries arelazy "sleepy", and that he wanted me to give them a little extra time. My estradiol was at a measly 15 when they checked it. Instead of ramping up the drugs, they asked me to take a break. So I took a few days off of my Gonal-F/Menopur thrill ride. So I spent Friday and Saturday drug-free, then started up again last night.
Aside from getting some crazy rises and dips in my morning temps, I haven't felt much of a difference. The Man and I were out at lunch yesterday. I am trying not to get my hopes up. I know there's a very good chance this cycle might be cancelled. Still...I keep telling myself, it only takes one. I know I have one.
Acupuncture was fairly routine today. I told my acupuncturist what was going on, and I think he is worried, but agreed that I can't afford to waste any more time. Next Monday is Labor day (OMG! 3-day weekend!) but he insisted that he will be there for me if I need a session post retrieval. I talked to The Man about it, and he will drive me to Sonoma, if necessary.
It's strange. I feel like this is happening to someone else. I was so completely out of my mind last time around. This time- I am craving sweets a little- trying to address that with fruit and dark chocolate. And I am irritable at times, or occasionally inexplicably weepy for a minute or two. But no existential despair, no cookie binging, no psychotic outbursts. So, that's something. I feel strangely calm. Honestly, that is freaking me out more than anything else is.
I asked The Man about it, and he agreed. "You're definitely not psycho," he said. "It's kind of a relief, except I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this far in, I don't think that it's going to."
Wednesday, I go in for another ultrasound and blood draw. Hopefully, there is something percolating by then.
Essentially he said my ovaries are
Aside from getting some crazy rises and dips in my morning temps, I haven't felt much of a difference. The Man and I were out at lunch yesterday. I am trying not to get my hopes up. I know there's a very good chance this cycle might be cancelled. Still...I keep telling myself, it only takes one. I know I have one.
Acupuncture was fairly routine today. I told my acupuncturist what was going on, and I think he is worried, but agreed that I can't afford to waste any more time. Next Monday is Labor day (OMG! 3-day weekend!) but he insisted that he will be there for me if I need a session post retrieval. I talked to The Man about it, and he will drive me to Sonoma, if necessary.
It's strange. I feel like this is happening to someone else. I was so completely out of my mind last time around. This time- I am craving sweets a little- trying to address that with fruit and dark chocolate. And I am irritable at times, or occasionally inexplicably weepy for a minute or two. But no existential despair, no cookie binging, no psychotic outbursts. So, that's something. I feel strangely calm. Honestly, that is freaking me out more than anything else is.
I asked The Man about it, and he agreed. "You're definitely not psycho," he said. "It's kind of a relief, except I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this far in, I don't think that it's going to."
Wednesday, I go in for another ultrasound and blood draw. Hopefully, there is something percolating by then.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Confucious Say...
Infertility makes you weird.
No really, it does. In some good ways, and some bad ways. One day, you're a completely sane and rational woman, who agrees it would be a good idea to go off the pill and "see what happens", and then: over time, with no positive test, things change.
You assume ridiculous post-coital positions, because, you know, gravity. GRAVITY. It's SCIENCE! You go to the health food store and spend your food budget on bee pollen. You research on the internet. And it escalates, and escalates, until you're wandering down a dark alley at the stroke of midnight with your grandmother's emerald ring to exchange with a crone for some baby potion.
OK, I am exaggerating, but not by much. If you'd told me 10 years ago that I would be taking 50 thousand herbal supplements and cutting out wheat and obsessing about eating organic, doing acupuncture and yoga and meditation and trying not to step on sidewalk cracks: or that I would be ponying up insane amounts of money for IVF- I would have laughed. Merrily. And probably said you were insane. Yet, here we are!
The fortune cookie in the photo is a replica of the fortune I got a few months ago: the day after we decided to do this again. As The Man says, "Crappy fortunes are a sure way to put a cookie company out of business"- yes, yes, I know. It's not like you're going to get one saying, "You are mentally unhinged, have dubious fashion sense, and this will all end in tears." (Hopefully.) But I am holding onto this anyway. Because I am CRAZY, and willing to cling to any tiny shred of hope that comes my way. Or you know: because I am optimistic. I am fighting the urge to put a question mark at the end of that last sentence.
I have been floundering a little this week: dutifully applying my gel to my shoulders, filling out paperwork, and trying not to get overwhelmed. I bought a meditation game for the Wii, which sounds ridiculous, yet it seems to be helping me to feel calm and centered, so why knock it? I have definitely done crazier things. I took a closer look at my meds, and realized that I am not going to be put on hormonal birth control for my IVF cycle- something I am thrilled about. I am trying to focus on the positives.
The weird thing is this: after a lot of soul searching, one of the things I am afraid of, is that this is it. This is something that I have been working my way up to, and focusing on, for so long. It's a big part of my psyche_ IF is the big Chimera I have to slay: or nurse my wounds and walk away from.
Whether it works, or it doesn't, I will have to change. It will be easier to change if I have a consolation prize (read: baby), but if it doesn't work: well, that's it. it's the end of a dream and a long journey, and the beginning of something else, whatever that might be.
I can't regret going through this. It's been awful. I would never wish this on anyone else. But it made me a better, stronger, healthier, more resilient person. It's definitely taught me who my friends were. I have learned more about my body and how it works than I ever dreamed was possible.
I can't regret that I have had ten years with The Man: taking some amazing vacations, and having each other pretty much all to ourselves.
Also, I don't know if it's the testosterone, the meditation, or I got a really good batch of organic herbal tea, but I dreamed about Matthew McConaughey last night. I can't really regret that, either!
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The Gambler
Freedom Fertility Pharmacy called me today.
Actually, a robot called me, technically.
"Hello, this is FFP, we got a call from your doctor ordering your medication! Please hold for a specialist!"
Then some helpful tips, then ringing. And then the robot again.
"We're sorry, all of our specialists are busy right now. Please call us at (number) at a later time of your convenience. Thank you!" *click*
WTF?!!!!
So I called back, and talked (as I always do when dealing with Freedom) to a very nice woman, who read a bewildering list of medications off to me. Some of these I have dealt with before, but most of them, I haven't. Cetritide! Doxycycline! Gonal-F! MenoPur! Novarel! Endometrin!!!! (Please don't make me go crazy, hormones, PLEASE.)
My mother, bless her, had told me to put the meds on her credit card. I have done this before, so I was expecting a big number. I think my last round (an IUI) it was close to $2000.
"OK- let me add this all up!" said the nice woman on the phone with the MA accent (an accent that I, strangely, love).
"That will be $4372.30."
That sound you just heard was my brain exploding. She helpfully told me I could go onto their website and get a web quote, which would save us $100. I asked her to freeze the order. I had to call Mom and let her know what was coming- and also call The Man, to see if we could subsidize some of this.
While saving $100 is better than a sharp stick in the eye, it seemed almost ridiculously meager, in the grand scheme of things. I called my mom, and explained, I called The Man and explained. Mom still wants me to use her card. What she said is: "Well, people take money like that to Vegas, and they gamble, and lose it all- for nothing That's not what you're doing here. You have a goal. I want you to be able to achieve your goal." I still feel amazingly guilty.
I forgot what this was like. Costs add up in excruciating fashion, and our insurance covers none of it. So far, we are out doctor and exam fees at two clinics, the cost of my testing, the cost of The Man's testing, and we haven't even gotten to the stuff covered in the outline that the R.E.'s office gives you, which explains what you will be billed for. That's another hefty chunk, but at least is something we budgeted for. Of course, medication is not included.
Getting stressed out is supposed to be counter-productive to this process working. So I got off the phone, clicked around on the website, got my $100 off, and called back.
As fate would have it, I got Sandy, who was super-talkative. She heard my parrot in the background, and started asking all kinds of questions. She applied my credit, postponed my shipment (we still have a slim chance this month- if I do manage to do this on my own, being stuck with $4372.30 worth of unnecessary meds would not be fun), made sure I was getting a rebate on my Gonal-F, and closed with, "Well, what's your birdie's name?"
"Vegas," I said.
"Well, you enjoy your day hon- good luck to you, and have fun gambling with Vegas!" she teased.
I guess you can look at it that way- I am gambling. As someone who is not a gambler by nature, this is terrifying. I really hope I don't lose it all.
Actually, a robot called me, technically.
"Hello, this is FFP, we got a call from your doctor ordering your medication! Please hold for a specialist!"
Then some helpful tips, then ringing. And then the robot again.
"We're sorry, all of our specialists are busy right now. Please call us at (number) at a later time of your convenience. Thank you!" *click*
WTF?!!!!
So I called back, and talked (as I always do when dealing with Freedom) to a very nice woman, who read a bewildering list of medications off to me. Some of these I have dealt with before, but most of them, I haven't. Cetritide! Doxycycline! Gonal-F! MenoPur! Novarel! Endometrin!!!! (Please don't make me go crazy, hormones, PLEASE.)
My mother, bless her, had told me to put the meds on her credit card. I have done this before, so I was expecting a big number. I think my last round (an IUI) it was close to $2000.
"OK- let me add this all up!" said the nice woman on the phone with the MA accent (an accent that I, strangely, love).
"That will be $4372.30."
That sound you just heard was my brain exploding. She helpfully told me I could go onto their website and get a web quote, which would save us $100. I asked her to freeze the order. I had to call Mom and let her know what was coming- and also call The Man, to see if we could subsidize some of this.
While saving $100 is better than a sharp stick in the eye, it seemed almost ridiculously meager, in the grand scheme of things. I called my mom, and explained, I called The Man and explained. Mom still wants me to use her card. What she said is: "Well, people take money like that to Vegas, and they gamble, and lose it all- for nothing That's not what you're doing here. You have a goal. I want you to be able to achieve your goal." I still feel amazingly guilty.
I forgot what this was like. Costs add up in excruciating fashion, and our insurance covers none of it. So far, we are out doctor and exam fees at two clinics, the cost of my testing, the cost of The Man's testing, and we haven't even gotten to the stuff covered in the outline that the R.E.'s office gives you, which explains what you will be billed for. That's another hefty chunk, but at least is something we budgeted for. Of course, medication is not included.
Getting stressed out is supposed to be counter-productive to this process working. So I got off the phone, clicked around on the website, got my $100 off, and called back.
As fate would have it, I got Sandy, who was super-talkative. She heard my parrot in the background, and started asking all kinds of questions. She applied my credit, postponed my shipment (we still have a slim chance this month- if I do manage to do this on my own, being stuck with $4372.30 worth of unnecessary meds would not be fun), made sure I was getting a rebate on my Gonal-F, and closed with, "Well, what's your birdie's name?"
"Vegas," I said.
"Well, you enjoy your day hon- good luck to you, and have fun gambling with Vegas!" she teased.
I guess you can look at it that way- I am gambling. As someone who is not a gambler by nature, this is terrifying. I really hope I don't lose it all.
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Mischief Managed
Would you believe that it took three stops to try to get my Counsyl test dropped off yesterday?
The first one was my fault, as I was convinced it was RiteAid that had the FedEx drop-off. Nope. It was CVS. So then I drove over there, and they evidently have not been taking FedEx packages since March- and Fed Ex had not seen fit to update their website. I was directed to go to the FedEx/Kinko's in San Rafael. "Right across from the KFC!"
Maybe it is a testament to my abdication from fast food that I had no freaking clue where the KFC was. I drove around lost for a little while (I had foolishly left my Phablet/The Precious at home, so had no GPS- which effectively made me helpless) and finally returned home to ask The Man.
"Oh, I know right where that is!" exclaimed my junk food devotee. "It's right by a KFC and Taco Bell Combo drive through." Hmph.
So he drove me over there, and I dropped my vial of saliva (inside a bag inside a box inside another bag) into the FedEx receptacle- albeit, after a temporary waffling on whether my spit could be considered "hazardous substances"- which are strictly prohibited by the signage on the drop-off box. Sadly, the conclusion was that I didn't care, and just wanted to be rid of the thing, but I did at least make the crucial distinction that nobody who has come into contact with my saliva has ever died (to my knowledge), and that I don't wear a green spandex outfit and call myself "Poison Ivy". So it would probably be fine.
After being so close to forbidden food and not being allowed to acknowledge it, The Man decided that leftover roasted chicken at home wasn't going to be his thing, so we went to Max's. Ribeye (what else) for him, and salmon for me. They do have gluten-free cheesecake there, and The Man looked at me pleadingly, but I was just not in the mood. After wearing me down for a bit, I said I would order a scoop of ice cream and a gluten-free cookie. To keep him company. Yes, I am occasionally stupid.
When the scoop got there, it was in a giant sundae glass, and contained nearly a pint of actual ice cream. The cookie, it had been previously explained, was in a package of six. "But they're small!" said the waitress, reassuringly, making a round shape between her thumb and forefinger. "Roughly the size of a silver dollar."
FYI: the cookies were at least twice that size- i.e., completely normal sized cookies. I ate one, and about 5 spoonfuls of ice cream- I couldn't even get down close to the top of the giant sundae glass. I had to take the rest home in a tupperware, along with the other 5 cookies. Never again.
I may be happy to have a stash, because things are percolating along. I finally got the second line on the OPK kit, which means I should be right on track for my usual Day 14. The Man is on notice, and I am trying to get the house cleaned up, as I was out of commission with excruciating back pain the entire last half of my last cycle- REALLY hoping that doesn't happen again!!
The first one was my fault, as I was convinced it was RiteAid that had the FedEx drop-off. Nope. It was CVS. So then I drove over there, and they evidently have not been taking FedEx packages since March- and Fed Ex had not seen fit to update their website. I was directed to go to the FedEx/Kinko's in San Rafael. "Right across from the KFC!"
Maybe it is a testament to my abdication from fast food that I had no freaking clue where the KFC was. I drove around lost for a little while (I had foolishly left my Phablet/The Precious at home, so had no GPS- which effectively made me helpless) and finally returned home to ask The Man.
"Oh, I know right where that is!" exclaimed my junk food devotee. "It's right by a KFC and Taco Bell Combo drive through." Hmph.
So he drove me over there, and I dropped my vial of saliva (inside a bag inside a box inside another bag) into the FedEx receptacle- albeit, after a temporary waffling on whether my spit could be considered "hazardous substances"- which are strictly prohibited by the signage on the drop-off box. Sadly, the conclusion was that I didn't care, and just wanted to be rid of the thing, but I did at least make the crucial distinction that nobody who has come into contact with my saliva has ever died (to my knowledge), and that I don't wear a green spandex outfit and call myself "Poison Ivy". So it would probably be fine.
After being so close to forbidden food and not being allowed to acknowledge it, The Man decided that leftover roasted chicken at home wasn't going to be his thing, so we went to Max's. Ribeye (what else) for him, and salmon for me. They do have gluten-free cheesecake there, and The Man looked at me pleadingly, but I was just not in the mood. After wearing me down for a bit, I said I would order a scoop of ice cream and a gluten-free cookie. To keep him company. Yes, I am occasionally stupid.
When the scoop got there, it was in a giant sundae glass, and contained nearly a pint of actual ice cream. The cookie, it had been previously explained, was in a package of six. "But they're small!" said the waitress, reassuringly, making a round shape between her thumb and forefinger. "Roughly the size of a silver dollar."
FYI: the cookies were at least twice that size- i.e., completely normal sized cookies. I ate one, and about 5 spoonfuls of ice cream- I couldn't even get down close to the top of the giant sundae glass. I had to take the rest home in a tupperware, along with the other 5 cookies. Never again.
I may be happy to have a stash, because things are percolating along. I finally got the second line on the OPK kit, which means I should be right on track for my usual Day 14. The Man is on notice, and I am trying to get the house cleaned up, as I was out of commission with excruciating back pain the entire last half of my last cycle- REALLY hoping that doesn't happen again!!
Friday, August 3, 2012
Meditations on a To-Do List
#1 is, I shit you not, "Drop spit off at the Rite Aid."
I should probably explain this.
My R.E. handed me a blue box when I was there, and explained that I needed to take a saliva sample and send it in. The company name is Counsyl, and it offers preventive genetic testing for- well, actually, a pretty amazing rate. It's $350 or so with no insurance, but hopefully Kaiser will absorb $250 of it or so.
I mean: let's face it, they have samples of pretty much every other bodily fluid I can produce. Why not saliva too?! So I have a vial of spit- inside a bag, inside a box, inside a FexEx medical sample pouch. Evidently asking FexEx to pick something up requires credit card info, so I will be schlepping it to the drop-off center at the Rite Aid down the street.
In other news, I haven't grown those furry epaulettes I worried about yet. However, I am only administering 1 pump of the gel, which (now that I can bring myself to look at the bottle) is only 25% of the usual minimum manly dose. And this kind of makes me wonder- the guy instructions are to apply to the shoulders and: I think, the sides of the body? One pump handily douses both my shoulders. The thought of having to find enough surface area to accommodate four pumps of that stuff is a bit daunting. So I am relieved, but now off on a completely different mental tangent.
I do think the gel is to blame for a couple of new developments: namely, attractive hormonal acne that is forming around my mouth in a telltale circular fashion, and the fact that I am tired. Neither of those things are very welcome. But there are good things: I think it's doing some kind of number on my metabolism. It makes me wonder if my big problem this whole time has been some kind of hormonal imbalance. It's also working the way the R.E. wanted it to. I am getting sharp pings on the left and the right this month, so the ol' ovaries are both evidently cooking something up.
As my AMH and FSH values flag me as a potentially poor responder to drugs, this is amazing news. Hopefully, it is not all in my head. I am also worried because I got a high temperature this morning- which, if it continues, will mean I ovulated early. Which is good news in a way- my IVF cycle will start sooner than I had hoped! But bad news because they may need to add another drug to my protocol to keep me on schedule.
Since I used an OPK kit yesterday and got a "No Way Jose", I am either worrying about nothing- or I tested too late (on Day 10! Whaaaaat?!) and missed the LH surge. Unlikely, but possible. I am also not experiencing the crippling back pain of my last cycle- I could tell you the minute ovulation occurred, because I was hobbling around like Quasimodo. It got more bearable, but was still present for the rest of my cycle. I hope it isn't like that this time around- I have to get stuff done!
I should probably explain this.
My R.E. handed me a blue box when I was there, and explained that I needed to take a saliva sample and send it in. The company name is Counsyl, and it offers preventive genetic testing for- well, actually, a pretty amazing rate. It's $350 or so with no insurance, but hopefully Kaiser will absorb $250 of it or so.
I mean: let's face it, they have samples of pretty much every other bodily fluid I can produce. Why not saliva too?! So I have a vial of spit- inside a bag, inside a box, inside a FexEx medical sample pouch. Evidently asking FexEx to pick something up requires credit card info, so I will be schlepping it to the drop-off center at the Rite Aid down the street.
In other news, I haven't grown those furry epaulettes I worried about yet. However, I am only administering 1 pump of the gel, which (now that I can bring myself to look at the bottle) is only 25% of the usual minimum manly dose. And this kind of makes me wonder- the guy instructions are to apply to the shoulders and: I think, the sides of the body? One pump handily douses both my shoulders. The thought of having to find enough surface area to accommodate four pumps of that stuff is a bit daunting. So I am relieved, but now off on a completely different mental tangent.
I do think the gel is to blame for a couple of new developments: namely, attractive hormonal acne that is forming around my mouth in a telltale circular fashion, and the fact that I am tired. Neither of those things are very welcome. But there are good things: I think it's doing some kind of number on my metabolism. It makes me wonder if my big problem this whole time has been some kind of hormonal imbalance. It's also working the way the R.E. wanted it to. I am getting sharp pings on the left and the right this month, so the ol' ovaries are both evidently cooking something up.
As my AMH and FSH values flag me as a potentially poor responder to drugs, this is amazing news. Hopefully, it is not all in my head. I am also worried because I got a high temperature this morning- which, if it continues, will mean I ovulated early. Which is good news in a way- my IVF cycle will start sooner than I had hoped! But bad news because they may need to add another drug to my protocol to keep me on schedule.
Since I used an OPK kit yesterday and got a "No Way Jose", I am either worrying about nothing- or I tested too late (on Day 10! Whaaaaat?!) and missed the LH surge. Unlikely, but possible. I am also not experiencing the crippling back pain of my last cycle- I could tell you the minute ovulation occurred, because I was hobbling around like Quasimodo. It got more bearable, but was still present for the rest of my cycle. I hope it isn't like that this time around- I have to get stuff done!
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Let's do this thing! (playing catch-up)
So! I do have another blog- where I seem to be talking about everything EXCEPT infertility. If you're interested in that, it's over here.
General update: The Man and I just celebrated our 10th anniversary. Which means, 9 years of infertility. NINE years!!!! Ugh.
But- I am jumping back into the seemingly bottomless lake of infertility treatments, and frankly: this is the only place I can talk about that. People who deal with me day-to-day probably don't want to know about crazy shizz like "assisted hatching." Hell, _I_ don't even know what that is. Yet. But I probably will soon.
Because if infertility is a bottomless lake, I am finally going to do more than just stick the occasional toe in the water. As of a couple of weeks ago, I started paddling around in the shallow end, and am girding my loins (somewhat literally) to jump off the high dive in a few weeks. IVF, baby.
So we got started with one clinic, only to decide in the early stages that they were too far away- an hour and a half isn't a great drive to have to make. They also were really lackadaisical about doing things like answering my questions, leading to situations where I got test results back and FREAKED- and continued to freak over the 4th of July weekend, with no call back. It took six days to get my question answered, and of course, by then, I had whipped myself into a frenzy. No bueno.
So the question I needed answered was-My FSH is now around 12.1: not too terribly bad, as I am now an old-ish lady of 38. It's actually improved from 2009, when it was 14.9. The AMH however, is pretty dismal: 0.16. The frantic calls about that were the ones that caused the meltdown. I was concerned that they would flat-out refuse to treat me. So after all the googling of "low AMH" that I did- hopefully some other woman who is desperately googling at 2AM might run across this. Neither of the two clinics I was looking at said that my low AMH was a deal breaker. In fact, they seemed intrigued. And also flat out stated: "You need to hurry."
So, that's what we are doing. All the preliminary tests have been done. The Man still has his stellar numbers. I keep calling him "The Sperminator", which he seems alternately delighted and humiliated by. In all seriousness, I think the most awkward conversations I have had have been IF related, and having a lab tech wax rhapsodic about how great your husband's numbers are over the phone has to be experienced to be believed. Luckily, after a saline sonogram and a pelvic exam, my uterus has been pronounced "beautiful." So per medical science, I am actually beautiful inside and out. ;) And we are still "unexplained".
I didn't want to do this. I have done my utmost to get as healthy as I can, but obviously, we still have some deeper issue which is not being addressed, because we don't know what it is. the thought of subjecting my body to this roller coaster again is not one I make lightly.Unfortunately, we are to the point where we simply can't afford to sit around and wait.
I really like my new R.E.. He is young (by which I mean close to my age- LOL), earnest, and has disconcertingly beautiful eyes. He's also roughly 1000% nicer and more charismatic than Dr. Combover was- not being difficult to accomplish, as Dr. Combover had roughly the same bedside manner as a necrotic whelk.
I automatically checked to see if he was married, as I have many awesome single lady friends, and I am always acting in their best interests-although I may have earmarked him for my sister as a matter of course- but alas, he was wearing a wedding ring.
Also, he has a great sense of humor. By which I mean, he laughs at my jokes. How to make your RE laugh: when he points out your right ovary on the monitor during a procedure, tell him it looks like "a high pressure system coming in from the north." Evidently, not many ladies tell jokes while they are in the stirrups. And when the R.E. tells them he'll see them in his office in a minute, they probably don't cheerfully say, "Sure, I'll be right there- just let me put on some pants."
Oh man, I am so jaded. This doesn't even seem weird anymore. Hopefully I can continue along this trajectory, and not the sad, cookie-eating, hormonally incapacitated and psychotic iteration of the past.
Speaking of ovaries, Lazy Righty is evidently cooking up a follicle this month. I am going to send it some flowers.
In other news, my temps are great. I am still seeing an acupuncturist, and my temps have slowly crept up from being in the 95's and 96's to the 97's and 98's- AKA, normal human temperature ranges. Acupuncture is once a week, and I take about a bajillion herbal supplements twice a day.
My acupuncturist and I do argue occasionally- he says I am healthy enough to conceive on my own, but after 9 years of this, and two years with him, I am more than a little dubious. I am doing my best to make it clear that I can't afford to wait anymore. We were given "permission to try" this month and last month as well, so it is go time this week. He keeps insisting that IVF is not necessary, and I told him that I would be ecstatic if we managed to do it on our own, as we would use the money earmarked for the procedure to go on a fantastic European vacation instead, and I would send him a postcard from every country we visited lauding his acupuncturey prowess. I still don't think he agrees, but at least he shut up about it.
SO! Due to my super-low AMH, my RE told me that we were going to do something "A little unorthodox", and wrote me a prescription for testosterone gel. He also warned me that the pharmacy wasn't going to handle it well, as it is typically a male-only prescription, and just to brazen it out. Having done all my research during the Low-AMH meltdown of early July, I determined that he was trying to take a little bit of a shortcut- low AMH is typically addressed with DHEA supplementation- which bumps up your testosterone levels.
All I can say is, if there is any other way to get testosterone gel than walking into Rite Aid, I am all for it. Black market? Internet pharmacy? Muscular man in sunglasses lurking in the alley? Go for it (OK, maybe not the last one.)
The Pharmacist and the tech seriously freaked out. It doesn't help that the Pharmacist has a loud, booming Russian accent, and immediately blustered, "But- this is for men only!" in a voice that carried clear over into the cosmetics area. I quietly explained the issue, and he admitted that it was not that unheard of as he had "given it to one other lady in the past." I would like to thank you, other lady. If it was this much of a shell-shocker for me, I can only imagine how it was for you!
I now have two giant tubes of really expensive testosterone gel. The pharmacist helpfully said that I would have a lot left over, and told The Man that he should try it "If he ever wanted to take up the weightlifting."
He gave me a 20% discount, but even with that- since it is out-of-pocket, it was $360. #$%^!
So now, The Man is under orders to tell me if I start developing facial hair or my voice starts cracking. I have to rub this stuff into my shoulders every night, and am paranoid that I am going to grow some furry epaulettes. I was cautioned to avoid contact with anyone until the stuff dries, and am wearing a special t-shirt to bed. Like a chump. So it begins.
So the next Day One, my schedule and meds are set. I just need to call, and I will get my baseline ultrasound. It looks like Gonal-F, Menopur, Possibly an ovulation suppressant of some kind, and then the trigger shot, and then progesterone- seemingly forever.
Oh God. I am really doing this. Sometime this month!
General update: The Man and I just celebrated our 10th anniversary. Which means, 9 years of infertility. NINE years!!!! Ugh.
But- I am jumping back into the seemingly bottomless lake of infertility treatments, and frankly: this is the only place I can talk about that. People who deal with me day-to-day probably don't want to know about crazy shizz like "assisted hatching." Hell, _I_ don't even know what that is. Yet. But I probably will soon.
Because if infertility is a bottomless lake, I am finally going to do more than just stick the occasional toe in the water. As of a couple of weeks ago, I started paddling around in the shallow end, and am girding my loins (somewhat literally) to jump off the high dive in a few weeks. IVF, baby.
So we got started with one clinic, only to decide in the early stages that they were too far away- an hour and a half isn't a great drive to have to make. They also were really lackadaisical about doing things like answering my questions, leading to situations where I got test results back and FREAKED- and continued to freak over the 4th of July weekend, with no call back. It took six days to get my question answered, and of course, by then, I had whipped myself into a frenzy. No bueno.
So the question I needed answered was-My FSH is now around 12.1: not too terribly bad, as I am now an old-ish lady of 38. It's actually improved from 2009, when it was 14.9. The AMH however, is pretty dismal: 0.16. The frantic calls about that were the ones that caused the meltdown. I was concerned that they would flat-out refuse to treat me. So after all the googling of "low AMH" that I did- hopefully some other woman who is desperately googling at 2AM might run across this. Neither of the two clinics I was looking at said that my low AMH was a deal breaker. In fact, they seemed intrigued. And also flat out stated: "You need to hurry."
So, that's what we are doing. All the preliminary tests have been done. The Man still has his stellar numbers. I keep calling him "The Sperminator", which he seems alternately delighted and humiliated by. In all seriousness, I think the most awkward conversations I have had have been IF related, and having a lab tech wax rhapsodic about how great your husband's numbers are over the phone has to be experienced to be believed. Luckily, after a saline sonogram and a pelvic exam, my uterus has been pronounced "beautiful." So per medical science, I am actually beautiful inside and out. ;) And we are still "unexplained".
I didn't want to do this. I have done my utmost to get as healthy as I can, but obviously, we still have some deeper issue which is not being addressed, because we don't know what it is. the thought of subjecting my body to this roller coaster again is not one I make lightly.Unfortunately, we are to the point where we simply can't afford to sit around and wait.
I really like my new R.E.. He is young (by which I mean close to my age- LOL), earnest, and has disconcertingly beautiful eyes. He's also roughly 1000% nicer and more charismatic than Dr. Combover was- not being difficult to accomplish, as Dr. Combover had roughly the same bedside manner as a necrotic whelk.
I automatically checked to see if he was married, as I have many awesome single lady friends, and I am always acting in their best interests-although I may have earmarked him for my sister as a matter of course- but alas, he was wearing a wedding ring.
Also, he has a great sense of humor. By which I mean, he laughs at my jokes. How to make your RE laugh: when he points out your right ovary on the monitor during a procedure, tell him it looks like "a high pressure system coming in from the north." Evidently, not many ladies tell jokes while they are in the stirrups. And when the R.E. tells them he'll see them in his office in a minute, they probably don't cheerfully say, "Sure, I'll be right there- just let me put on some pants."
Oh man, I am so jaded. This doesn't even seem weird anymore. Hopefully I can continue along this trajectory, and not the sad, cookie-eating, hormonally incapacitated and psychotic iteration of the past.
Speaking of ovaries, Lazy Righty is evidently cooking up a follicle this month. I am going to send it some flowers.
In other news, my temps are great. I am still seeing an acupuncturist, and my temps have slowly crept up from being in the 95's and 96's to the 97's and 98's- AKA, normal human temperature ranges. Acupuncture is once a week, and I take about a bajillion herbal supplements twice a day.
My acupuncturist and I do argue occasionally- he says I am healthy enough to conceive on my own, but after 9 years of this, and two years with him, I am more than a little dubious. I am doing my best to make it clear that I can't afford to wait anymore. We were given "permission to try" this month and last month as well, so it is go time this week. He keeps insisting that IVF is not necessary, and I told him that I would be ecstatic if we managed to do it on our own, as we would use the money earmarked for the procedure to go on a fantastic European vacation instead, and I would send him a postcard from every country we visited lauding his acupuncturey prowess. I still don't think he agrees, but at least he shut up about it.
SO! Due to my super-low AMH, my RE told me that we were going to do something "A little unorthodox", and wrote me a prescription for testosterone gel. He also warned me that the pharmacy wasn't going to handle it well, as it is typically a male-only prescription, and just to brazen it out. Having done all my research during the Low-AMH meltdown of early July, I determined that he was trying to take a little bit of a shortcut- low AMH is typically addressed with DHEA supplementation- which bumps up your testosterone levels.
All I can say is, if there is any other way to get testosterone gel than walking into Rite Aid, I am all for it. Black market? Internet pharmacy? Muscular man in sunglasses lurking in the alley? Go for it (OK, maybe not the last one.)
The Pharmacist and the tech seriously freaked out. It doesn't help that the Pharmacist has a loud, booming Russian accent, and immediately blustered, "But- this is for men only!" in a voice that carried clear over into the cosmetics area. I quietly explained the issue, and he admitted that it was not that unheard of as he had "given it to one other lady in the past." I would like to thank you, other lady. If it was this much of a shell-shocker for me, I can only imagine how it was for you!
I now have two giant tubes of really expensive testosterone gel. The pharmacist helpfully said that I would have a lot left over, and told The Man that he should try it "If he ever wanted to take up the weightlifting."
He gave me a 20% discount, but even with that- since it is out-of-pocket, it was $360. #$%^!
So now, The Man is under orders to tell me if I start developing facial hair or my voice starts cracking. I have to rub this stuff into my shoulders every night, and am paranoid that I am going to grow some furry epaulettes. I was cautioned to avoid contact with anyone until the stuff dries, and am wearing a special t-shirt to bed. Like a chump. So it begins.
So the next Day One, my schedule and meds are set. I just need to call, and I will get my baseline ultrasound. It looks like Gonal-F, Menopur, Possibly an ovulation suppressant of some kind, and then the trigger shot, and then progesterone- seemingly forever.
Oh God. I am really doing this. Sometime this month!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Mint Juleps and Needles
I survived my first acupuncture treatment and consult, and am pleased to say that I seem to have alleviated a frightening amount of issues with my dietary change back in March. Going through the paperwork itself was a revelation. My waking temps upon charting are still low, but are higher than they were last time around. We agreed that te bulk of the problems were fixed, and the ones that are left over seem to be pretty straightforward. One of the Chinese herbal concoctions I am taking is called "Warming the Mansion," which I find hysterical.
The acupuncturist has a great reputation, and he told me that he thinks I will be ready to have a baby within 6 months of treatment: and is willing to say on the record that he doesn't think I will need IVF to do it. But if I do, my body will be ready for it. So...pretty good news all told, and we are moving ahead! Obviously something is already happening with me: since my treatment, I have been floating around on a happy little pink cloud. It's a little unnerving. If I didn't know better, I would say I was stoned, just without the paranoia. No complaints here. ;)
In other news, a baby tiger was born in Germany: to a lady tiger who was previously thought to be infertile.
There's hope for all of us, I guess!
The acupuncturist has a great reputation, and he told me that he thinks I will be ready to have a baby within 6 months of treatment: and is willing to say on the record that he doesn't think I will need IVF to do it. But if I do, my body will be ready for it. So...pretty good news all told, and we are moving ahead! Obviously something is already happening with me: since my treatment, I have been floating around on a happy little pink cloud. It's a little unnerving. If I didn't know better, I would say I was stoned, just without the paranoia. No complaints here. ;)
In other news, a baby tiger was born in Germany: to a lady tiger who was previously thought to be infertile.
There's hope for all of us, I guess!
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Out of the darkness
Wow. Reading back through this and seeing where I was is a little like traveling back in time.
Well, I ran away for awhile. I spent two years getting myself back. We moved: to the Bay Area, which has been more difficult than I had anticipated. We are now looking at houses. I have managed not to gain back all the weight I lost. I also figured out that a lot of my weird issues were caused by gluten intolerance. My weight is now much more stable, my skin is clear, my migraines are controlled, and my memory seems to be much better. I also have a ton more energy that I used to!
I have been putting my new found energy into finishing up old projects. And to that end, a week or so ago, I bought a book for my Kindle, called Making Babies: A Proven 3-Month Program For Maximum Fertility. It's about getting pregnant as naturally as possible. I liked the approach, which combined Eastern and Western medicine in a way that makes sense to me.
So: we're off! I actually looked up the blog as reference material, so I can fill out my medical info paperwork as accurately as possible, because I am seeing my new acupuncturist next Wednesday. And yes, I will be updating again, now that I have Something To Report.
It's the dawn of a new era, peeps!
Well, I ran away for awhile. I spent two years getting myself back. We moved: to the Bay Area, which has been more difficult than I had anticipated. We are now looking at houses. I have managed not to gain back all the weight I lost. I also figured out that a lot of my weird issues were caused by gluten intolerance. My weight is now much more stable, my skin is clear, my migraines are controlled, and my memory seems to be much better. I also have a ton more energy that I used to!
I have been putting my new found energy into finishing up old projects. And to that end, a week or so ago, I bought a book for my Kindle, called Making Babies: A Proven 3-Month Program For Maximum Fertility. It's about getting pregnant as naturally as possible. I liked the approach, which combined Eastern and Western medicine in a way that makes sense to me.
So: we're off! I actually looked up the blog as reference material, so I can fill out my medical info paperwork as accurately as possible, because I am seeing my new acupuncturist next Wednesday. And yes, I will be updating again, now that I have Something To Report.
It's the dawn of a new era, peeps!
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sorry.
Oh boy.
I have written this post a couple of times, and nothing that I committed to typing could sum up what I was trying to convey. Suffice it to say, I don't want to be melodramatic or anything- I am just kind of tapped out.
All of my energy has been going into work. I took over another teacher's classes, so I have gone from teaching 2-3 classes a day to 5 or 6. Several of those are an hour drive, each way. With that and the gym, my time is just getting sucked into oblivion. Also, The Man is finishing college and has started his weekends in the Bay Area, so any free time we have seems to get spent with each other.
Another reason I haven't blogged is that my last post just scared me. I wrote it from a bad place,and it's pretty obvious when I read it that when I say I am content to sit and wait, that's just a big fat lie.
Sitting and waiting is something that I am stuck with. I am feeling that acutely right now, and just trying to pour myself into other pursuits that I can at least have some measure of success with. I am a great teacher, so I am teaching. I am also in great shape for someone my size, and am feeling healthier spiritually, emotionally, and physically, with each passing day.
I can tell that the change in activity level and nutrition is doing something to my body. I am pissed off that I let myself be deluded into thinking that making these changes might be detrimental to my fertility journey. Different fertility indicators have gotten stronger, and that's as blunt as I am going to get. You guys put up with enough from me!
That being said, not much to report. I just didn't feel that it was "fair" to post, because I know how generous you guys all are with your support, and I haven't had any support to give in return. What I really needed was a break, and I took one, and while I am still kinda "meh", I will take "meh" over psychotic and weepy any day of the week.
I missed you guys. How are you doing?
I have written this post a couple of times, and nothing that I committed to typing could sum up what I was trying to convey. Suffice it to say, I don't want to be melodramatic or anything- I am just kind of tapped out.
All of my energy has been going into work. I took over another teacher's classes, so I have gone from teaching 2-3 classes a day to 5 or 6. Several of those are an hour drive, each way. With that and the gym, my time is just getting sucked into oblivion. Also, The Man is finishing college and has started his weekends in the Bay Area, so any free time we have seems to get spent with each other.
Another reason I haven't blogged is that my last post just scared me. I wrote it from a bad place,and it's pretty obvious when I read it that when I say I am content to sit and wait, that's just a big fat lie.
Sitting and waiting is something that I am stuck with. I am feeling that acutely right now, and just trying to pour myself into other pursuits that I can at least have some measure of success with. I am a great teacher, so I am teaching. I am also in great shape for someone my size, and am feeling healthier spiritually, emotionally, and physically, with each passing day.
I can tell that the change in activity level and nutrition is doing something to my body. I am pissed off that I let myself be deluded into thinking that making these changes might be detrimental to my fertility journey. Different fertility indicators have gotten stronger, and that's as blunt as I am going to get. You guys put up with enough from me!
That being said, not much to report. I just didn't feel that it was "fair" to post, because I know how generous you guys all are with your support, and I haven't had any support to give in return. What I really needed was a break, and I took one, and while I am still kinda "meh", I will take "meh" over psychotic and weepy any day of the week.
I missed you guys. How are you doing?
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Shut Up and Drive
Yeah, this song is a staple on my workout playlist. Go Rihanna!
The doggies did great this weekend. I am so proud of them. We kept them on their leashes, since neither of them is ready yet to be able to run free at the beach, and their anxiety about all the other off-leash dogs kind of hampered my ability to take pictures, but we still had a great time. Predictably, Bear plunged right into the ocean, up to his chest, while Bosco delicately avoided the tiny lapping waves. They're so funny. It was a big weekend- first time seeing the ocean, first time experiencing stairs, first time being around so many other dogs.
They did great at Mom and Dad's place. No begging, no "accidents" (well, there may have been one, but luckily mom and dad were out, and they have hardwood floors. I won't tell if you won't!). They stayed off the furniture and hung out on their blanket in front of the fire and just kind of blissed out the whole time.
Considering that the last time my parents saw our dogs, they were slavering and barking and hurling themselves against our sliding glass door, this behavior was a total 180. My parents were actually so impressed with how they behaved that they are getting the Dog Whisperer book for my brother and his wife for Christmas. (We still haven't exchanged gifts yet.)
It was nice getting away, being outside and active, and not having to worry about holiday crap. We had a good, solid, relaxing trip. Yay!
There was a weird moment with my mother. I had picked up a copy of People magazine, with a very PG Jennifer Lopez on the cover. My mom noticed I was scanning the article, and made a face.
"Do you like her?"
"I am just interested. I think she did IVF, so I wanted to check out if the article says anything. I doubt it, but you never know."
"Why on earth did they try to keep it a secret for so long?" she asked. "It just seems stupid."
"Well...I am guessing that she's been infertile for awhile, and maybe had some recurrent miscarriages or something," I said, flatly. "I wouldn't want that whole heartache plastered in every tabloid under the sun."
My mom, who admittedly isn't overly fond of JLo, gave me a look that I can only describe as stunned.
"I didn't even think of that..." she said, and dropped the subject.
I do wish that celebs would be more open abut the fact that they use assisted reproductive technologies. This whole taboo just needs to be gone.
I have been doing a lot of reading- in addition to the Margolis book and the Newsweek article mentioned in the last post, my sister-in-law got me The Golden Compass trilogy, and I seem to have burned through it in two days.
I plan to talk about the Margolis book more in-depth tomorrow, but here's the general consensus: I liked it. It was a very open, honest read, with a a lot of general information about the roads that infertility leads you down. There's a lot of info about surrogacy, which is nothing we have ever considered, but it's what Cindy and her husband did, so that is a perspective that was interesting for me to read about.
I am considering giving it to my mom to look at once I am done with it.
The doggies did great this weekend. I am so proud of them. We kept them on their leashes, since neither of them is ready yet to be able to run free at the beach, and their anxiety about all the other off-leash dogs kind of hampered my ability to take pictures, but we still had a great time. Predictably, Bear plunged right into the ocean, up to his chest, while Bosco delicately avoided the tiny lapping waves. They're so funny. It was a big weekend- first time seeing the ocean, first time experiencing stairs, first time being around so many other dogs.
They did great at Mom and Dad's place. No begging, no "accidents" (well, there may have been one, but luckily mom and dad were out, and they have hardwood floors. I won't tell if you won't!). They stayed off the furniture and hung out on their blanket in front of the fire and just kind of blissed out the whole time.
Considering that the last time my parents saw our dogs, they were slavering and barking and hurling themselves against our sliding glass door, this behavior was a total 180. My parents were actually so impressed with how they behaved that they are getting the Dog Whisperer book for my brother and his wife for Christmas. (We still haven't exchanged gifts yet.)
It was nice getting away, being outside and active, and not having to worry about holiday crap. We had a good, solid, relaxing trip. Yay!
There was a weird moment with my mother. I had picked up a copy of People magazine, with a very PG Jennifer Lopez on the cover. My mom noticed I was scanning the article, and made a face.
"Do you like her?"
"I am just interested. I think she did IVF, so I wanted to check out if the article says anything. I doubt it, but you never know."
"Why on earth did they try to keep it a secret for so long?" she asked. "It just seems stupid."
"Well...I am guessing that she's been infertile for awhile, and maybe had some recurrent miscarriages or something," I said, flatly. "I wouldn't want that whole heartache plastered in every tabloid under the sun."
My mom, who admittedly isn't overly fond of JLo, gave me a look that I can only describe as stunned.
"I didn't even think of that..." she said, and dropped the subject.
I do wish that celebs would be more open abut the fact that they use assisted reproductive technologies. This whole taboo just needs to be gone.
I have been doing a lot of reading- in addition to the Margolis book and the Newsweek article mentioned in the last post, my sister-in-law got me The Golden Compass trilogy, and I seem to have burned through it in two days.
I plan to talk about the Margolis book more in-depth tomorrow, but here's the general consensus: I liked it. It was a very open, honest read, with a a lot of general information about the roads that infertility leads you down. There's a lot of info about surrogacy, which is nothing we have ever considered, but it's what Cindy and her husband did, so that is a perspective that was interesting for me to read about.
I am considering giving it to my mom to look at once I am done with it.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Vortex
Crazy couple of weeks- including finding out that I was going to need to host Christmas morning this year- 24 hours in advance. AIIIGH! I did pull it off, which unfortunately means that we may be doing it every year from now on. Oops!
It's funny- I haven't been posting a lot, mainly because I stepped off the IF rollercoaster. Without all the blood draws, injections, meds, ultrasounds, etc, it just feels like I don't have a lot to contribute lately.
I have been doing some research though. I bought the Newsweek that talks about "Fertility and Diet". Of course, they are very careful to state that it's "anovulatory infertility" that they are talking about, but still an interesting read.
In other news, I got contacted by someone regarding the new book coming out on Jan 2. by Cindy Margolis: HAVING A BABY…WHEN THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY ISN’T WORKING: Hope and Help for Everyone Facing Infertility.
I agreed to review it, and they offered at least one extra copy to give away on my blog! I haven't been keeping up with blogs, so you all might be reviewing too! ;) But so far, it is a good read, and I have a lot to say about it.
In the meantime, I hope you guys are having a wonderful holiday season. I have to say that Christmas was seriously better than Thanksgiving. Of course, it could hardly have been worse! Christmas was epic in comparison, actually. And no, I never did send out cards. Hopefully, we'll have something to announce next Christmas to make sending them worthwhile!
We're both still going to the gym. I have lost around 5 lbs, and The Man has lost his double chin. Operation Hot Mama is still going strong.
We're trying to figure out more ways to have fun and exercise and be active- two or three activities involve our dogs, which means there is a new project ahead.
Here's a pic of both the little hellions:
The blonde is Bear, and the black shaggy guy is Bosco. Bear actually used to be a "problem dog"- acting out, pooping in the house, jumping the fence (ok, the last one hasn't been addressed yet) and then some kind angel lent us the book by Cesar Milan, otherwise known as "The Dog Whisperer."
As it turns out, we weren't the owners of a "problem dog". We were the problem. It's worked like magic. Tonight, The Man told Bear, "Get in the tub, Bear!" so we could give him a bath. And he very meekly did. And this is the same dog that would have to be wrestled in every time before this. It's like crazy doggie voodoo.
The Man and I are heading for the coast tomorrow- with dogs in tow, to try to socialize them, and treat them to a ride in the car and maybe some good frolicking time at the beach. They haven't gotten to hang out much with other dogs, so we want to get them used to it- plans to visit the dog park are imminent, but have been postponed several times because our guys can be pretty wild. We plan to take pictures, and will hopefully escape with our lives.
It's funny- I haven't been posting a lot, mainly because I stepped off the IF rollercoaster. Without all the blood draws, injections, meds, ultrasounds, etc, it just feels like I don't have a lot to contribute lately.
I have been doing some research though. I bought the Newsweek that talks about "Fertility and Diet". Of course, they are very careful to state that it's "anovulatory infertility" that they are talking about, but still an interesting read.
In other news, I got contacted by someone regarding the new book coming out on Jan 2. by Cindy Margolis: HAVING A BABY…WHEN THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY ISN’T WORKING: Hope and Help for Everyone Facing Infertility.
I agreed to review it, and they offered at least one extra copy to give away on my blog! I haven't been keeping up with blogs, so you all might be reviewing too! ;) But so far, it is a good read, and I have a lot to say about it.
In the meantime, I hope you guys are having a wonderful holiday season. I have to say that Christmas was seriously better than Thanksgiving. Of course, it could hardly have been worse! Christmas was epic in comparison, actually. And no, I never did send out cards. Hopefully, we'll have something to announce next Christmas to make sending them worthwhile!
We're both still going to the gym. I have lost around 5 lbs, and The Man has lost his double chin. Operation Hot Mama is still going strong.
We're trying to figure out more ways to have fun and exercise and be active- two or three activities involve our dogs, which means there is a new project ahead.
Here's a pic of both the little hellions:
The blonde is Bear, and the black shaggy guy is Bosco. Bear actually used to be a "problem dog"- acting out, pooping in the house, jumping the fence (ok, the last one hasn't been addressed yet) and then some kind angel lent us the book by Cesar Milan, otherwise known as "The Dog Whisperer."
As it turns out, we weren't the owners of a "problem dog". We were the problem. It's worked like magic. Tonight, The Man told Bear, "Get in the tub, Bear!" so we could give him a bath. And he very meekly did. And this is the same dog that would have to be wrestled in every time before this. It's like crazy doggie voodoo.
The Man and I are heading for the coast tomorrow- with dogs in tow, to try to socialize them, and treat them to a ride in the car and maybe some good frolicking time at the beach. They haven't gotten to hang out much with other dogs, so we want to get them used to it- plans to visit the dog park are imminent, but have been postponed several times because our guys can be pretty wild. We plan to take pictures, and will hopefully escape with our lives.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Operation Hot Mama
The Man and I have joined a gym. (If you want specifics, you can read more here.)
It wasn't something I was specifically looking to do. I am in fact already a member of a women's gym across town. But I am bad about going....and now a new gym just opened up around the corner from us. It has a pool. The Man has been wanting to train for an officer position, which requires him to be in fantastic shape, with the ability to swim 1500 meters.
He told me this, and while I managed to successfully contain my laughter, this is a man who has never set foot in a gym EVER, and who tends to consider a lengthy afternoon of computer web surfing strenuous activity.
However, I am nothing if not supportive.
So we signed on the dotted line. My reasoning is, I have spent the last couple of years TRYING so hard to get pregnant, and nothing has worked. Maybe switching the focus towards "getting healthy" will be helpful, and maybe my body will figure out what to do on its own. Or not. But as The Man put it, "We may not be parents, but we will be HAWT! At least, this is kind of a guaranteed thing."
Thanks babe.
The added bonus is that I suddenly have a whole lot of time with him, and we are seeing new sides of each other, which you tend to do when you're up at 4:30 AM and struggling bleary-eyed into spandex pants.
Me: This time of day needs a name.
The Man: "The Time of Day That Shall Not Be Named"?
Me: I was thinking more like, "Satan's Buttcrack".
Guess which one we chose?
I have also accomplished a staggering amount by 8AM- Gone to the gym, gotten back, made breakfast and packed lunches for both of us, found a recipe for Peanut Chicken online and threw the ingredients in the crockpot, started cleaning out the fridge.
It's insane. Of course, the downside is, we will be exhausted and ready for bed around 7PM.
Now I have to call FedEx because those arsebrains seem to have lost The Man's Christmas gift. Which shows as "delivered", but never was. %^&*!
It wasn't something I was specifically looking to do. I am in fact already a member of a women's gym across town. But I am bad about going....and now a new gym just opened up around the corner from us. It has a pool. The Man has been wanting to train for an officer position, which requires him to be in fantastic shape, with the ability to swim 1500 meters.
He told me this, and while I managed to successfully contain my laughter, this is a man who has never set foot in a gym EVER, and who tends to consider a lengthy afternoon of computer web surfing strenuous activity.
However, I am nothing if not supportive.
So we signed on the dotted line. My reasoning is, I have spent the last couple of years TRYING so hard to get pregnant, and nothing has worked. Maybe switching the focus towards "getting healthy" will be helpful, and maybe my body will figure out what to do on its own. Or not. But as The Man put it, "We may not be parents, but we will be HAWT! At least, this is kind of a guaranteed thing."
Thanks babe.
The added bonus is that I suddenly have a whole lot of time with him, and we are seeing new sides of each other, which you tend to do when you're up at 4:30 AM and struggling bleary-eyed into spandex pants.
Me: This time of day needs a name.
The Man: "The Time of Day That Shall Not Be Named"?
Me: I was thinking more like, "Satan's Buttcrack".
Guess which one we chose?
I have also accomplished a staggering amount by 8AM- Gone to the gym, gotten back, made breakfast and packed lunches for both of us, found a recipe for Peanut Chicken online and threw the ingredients in the crockpot, started cleaning out the fridge.
It's insane. Of course, the downside is, we will be exhausted and ready for bed around 7PM.
Now I have to call FedEx because those arsebrains seem to have lost The Man's Christmas gift. Which shows as "delivered", but never was. %^&*!
Friday, December 7, 2007
This was supposed to be a comment...
But it got way too freaking long!
Thanks guys- I need to do SOMETHING, not sure what yet. I do have a couple of ideas. If worse comes to worse, we can use plastic, but since we just paid our cards off, that option isn't particularly appealing! I just hate that place where infertility takes you, when you feel like suddenly, everything is hopeless. I was feeling that way in a big way last night. Thanks so much for all your words of support- It means the world to me.
I know I just need to be patient for now. I know this is not the time for me to become a mom. We'll be in a better place to do this on our own when (and if- that's a whole other story) we go through the move and The Man's job change. I just need to be patient, and stick to my guns...I knew my instincts about asking my parents for help were dead on, and I ignored the red flashing lights and sirens, because I was at the end of my rope, and did it anyway. The worst part is, I feel stupid for ignoring my gut feelings. I asked for help, knowing it would put me in a bad place. I went along with their plans for Thanksgiving, ignoring my feeling that it was going to be awful. Both were things that I had bad vibes about, but somehow, I thought, "This time, it will be different. You're just being overly sensitive."
Someone's blog that I read earlier today referred to a quote- the gist was that it was stupid to perform the same experiment the same way over and over and expect a different outcome.
I need to accept the fact that while they are my parents, and we love each other, they have always used money to control me, and my reproductive system and my emotions and their pockets are just something that should not mix.
The Man and I had a heart-to-heart today. We bought a Christmas tree, and spent the day decorating and tidying up the house, since we both had the day off- a rare occurance around here!
He was asleep when I talked to Mom and had my little breakdown last night. I explained what had happened, and when I said I couldn't ask them for help, he agreed with me. So at least we are on the same page about that.
"I don't know if it's worse to have hope or not," is what he said about it. "I feel like I am being punished for something."
Since this is an emotion I can fully relate to, we talked about that for awhile.
The conversation drifted from there into adoption and potentially, fostering. It's the first time he has ever even been willing to discuss one of those options. He says he is more open to adoption. This is a huge step for him.
We discussed where we would need to be to bring a child into our lives- whether someone else's, or our own. The Man has still not made a concrete decision as to where he is going to be in a year, and I put my foot down and said I didn't want to move forward with any more treatment until we had a set plan and a schedule that I could work with.
We accomplished a lot. I feel a lot more hopeful. It's so hard to sit and wait for what you want...but I know that I have done what I am capable of doing with my own resources so far, so waiting seems like the most sensible option that I have.
Thanks guys- I need to do SOMETHING, not sure what yet. I do have a couple of ideas. If worse comes to worse, we can use plastic, but since we just paid our cards off, that option isn't particularly appealing! I just hate that place where infertility takes you, when you feel like suddenly, everything is hopeless. I was feeling that way in a big way last night. Thanks so much for all your words of support- It means the world to me.
I know I just need to be patient for now. I know this is not the time for me to become a mom. We'll be in a better place to do this on our own when (and if- that's a whole other story) we go through the move and The Man's job change. I just need to be patient, and stick to my guns...I knew my instincts about asking my parents for help were dead on, and I ignored the red flashing lights and sirens, because I was at the end of my rope, and did it anyway. The worst part is, I feel stupid for ignoring my gut feelings. I asked for help, knowing it would put me in a bad place. I went along with their plans for Thanksgiving, ignoring my feeling that it was going to be awful. Both were things that I had bad vibes about, but somehow, I thought, "This time, it will be different. You're just being overly sensitive."
Someone's blog that I read earlier today referred to a quote- the gist was that it was stupid to perform the same experiment the same way over and over and expect a different outcome.
I need to accept the fact that while they are my parents, and we love each other, they have always used money to control me, and my reproductive system and my emotions and their pockets are just something that should not mix.
The Man and I had a heart-to-heart today. We bought a Christmas tree, and spent the day decorating and tidying up the house, since we both had the day off- a rare occurance around here!
He was asleep when I talked to Mom and had my little breakdown last night. I explained what had happened, and when I said I couldn't ask them for help, he agreed with me. So at least we are on the same page about that.
"I don't know if it's worse to have hope or not," is what he said about it. "I feel like I am being punished for something."
Since this is an emotion I can fully relate to, we talked about that for awhile.
The conversation drifted from there into adoption and potentially, fostering. It's the first time he has ever even been willing to discuss one of those options. He says he is more open to adoption. This is a huge step for him.
We discussed where we would need to be to bring a child into our lives- whether someone else's, or our own. The Man has still not made a concrete decision as to where he is going to be in a year, and I put my foot down and said I didn't want to move forward with any more treatment until we had a set plan and a schedule that I could work with.
We accomplished a lot. I feel a lot more hopeful. It's so hard to sit and wait for what you want...but I know that I have done what I am capable of doing with my own resources so far, so waiting seems like the most sensible option that I have.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
tea and sympathy
Thanks guys!
I do appreciate your desires to give The Man a talking to.
We had that conversation on Thanksgiving night. He agreed that he had, in his own words, "been crappy." And he apologized profusely.
The next night, when I reported that the lady at the jewelry store said that my husband had no idea about my taste in jewelry (true...coals of fire!) he was mortified.
As it turns out, he had over-analyzed things based on my wedding ring, which is a magnolia design, and is very vintage and a little asymmetrical.
"I just thought you liked those kind of swoopy shapes!" he said, pathetically.
So he is now doing research for Christmas. I agreed to look around ebay and give him examples of what I like, on the grounds that if he wants to get me jewelry, next time around he will have a better idea of what to do.
His Mom found out what had happened, and made sure to take me out and get me a dog-free birthday cake, which was really sweet of her. Go figure- it took 5 years, but I finally have a decent relationship with my M-I-L.
Talked to my Mom yesterday. As it turns out, they all stayed an extra night and talked about my "behavior". Ouch. They seem to be of the opinion that I was just in a bad mood from the get-go, and that no amount of effort on their part would have fixed that. I was just determined to be unhappy.
Oooookay.
I was pretty much speechless. Mom wanted to keep chitchatting, and I just cut her off with, "Sorry, I know you have stuff to do, so I had better let you go."
Christmas should just be a ball of fire. I am thinking that we are going to eschew my family altogether. I have had it with them. And I can't help thinking about the whole thing with the psychic going on about the "toxic environment." Ugh.
______________
The Man and I were watching The Daily 10 tonight.
He's never said a lot about being smacked repeatedly in the face with the whole baby thing. But one story was about Nicole Ritchie's pregnancy, and how Paris Hilton now wants a baby because then their kids can play together.
Then there was another story about Christina Aguilera talking about her Uber Eggs and her hubby's Super sperm, and showing the magazine cover of her splayed out and displaying her spray-tanned baby bump.
At this point, my husband yelled, "Oh F--K YOU!" and hurled an aptly named throw pillow at the TV set. Right before the report seguewayed into "5 hottest celebrity moms."
"Why are we watching this?" he asked, irritably. Then the commercial for the Zales Journey diamond pendant started- the one that shows the couple dating, getting married, and then proudly holding up a baby. The tagline is something about commemorating all your precious life experiences together.
He uttered some more profanity and then snatched the remote out of my hands and hit the power button.
"I can't believe it, it's everywhere," he said, disgustedly. "No wonder you get upset all the time."
Well, yeah.
In other news, Tiramisu, my feline stalker, has been Velcro Kitty all day today, after virtually ignoring me since my last medicated cycle. He keeps edging up onto my lap or my chest and gazing lovingly into my face, giving me kitty kisses on the nose, and generally acting like a completely different creature than the sulky little brat that he usually is.
I am trying not to get my hopes up.
I do appreciate your desires to give The Man a talking to.
We had that conversation on Thanksgiving night. He agreed that he had, in his own words, "been crappy." And he apologized profusely.
The next night, when I reported that the lady at the jewelry store said that my husband had no idea about my taste in jewelry (true...coals of fire!) he was mortified.
As it turns out, he had over-analyzed things based on my wedding ring, which is a magnolia design, and is very vintage and a little asymmetrical.
"I just thought you liked those kind of swoopy shapes!" he said, pathetically.
So he is now doing research for Christmas. I agreed to look around ebay and give him examples of what I like, on the grounds that if he wants to get me jewelry, next time around he will have a better idea of what to do.
His Mom found out what had happened, and made sure to take me out and get me a dog-free birthday cake, which was really sweet of her. Go figure- it took 5 years, but I finally have a decent relationship with my M-I-L.
Talked to my Mom yesterday. As it turns out, they all stayed an extra night and talked about my "behavior". Ouch. They seem to be of the opinion that I was just in a bad mood from the get-go, and that no amount of effort on their part would have fixed that. I was just determined to be unhappy.
Oooookay.
I was pretty much speechless. Mom wanted to keep chitchatting, and I just cut her off with, "Sorry, I know you have stuff to do, so I had better let you go."
Christmas should just be a ball of fire. I am thinking that we are going to eschew my family altogether. I have had it with them. And I can't help thinking about the whole thing with the psychic going on about the "toxic environment." Ugh.
______________
The Man and I were watching The Daily 10 tonight.
He's never said a lot about being smacked repeatedly in the face with the whole baby thing. But one story was about Nicole Ritchie's pregnancy, and how Paris Hilton now wants a baby because then their kids can play together.
Then there was another story about Christina Aguilera talking about her Uber Eggs and her hubby's Super sperm, and showing the magazine cover of her splayed out and displaying her spray-tanned baby bump.
At this point, my husband yelled, "Oh F--K YOU!" and hurled an aptly named throw pillow at the TV set. Right before the report seguewayed into "5 hottest celebrity moms."
"Why are we watching this?" he asked, irritably. Then the commercial for the Zales Journey diamond pendant started- the one that shows the couple dating, getting married, and then proudly holding up a baby. The tagline is something about commemorating all your precious life experiences together.
He uttered some more profanity and then snatched the remote out of my hands and hit the power button.
"I can't believe it, it's everywhere," he said, disgustedly. "No wonder you get upset all the time."
Well, yeah.
In other news, Tiramisu, my feline stalker, has been Velcro Kitty all day today, after virtually ignoring me since my last medicated cycle. He keeps edging up onto my lap or my chest and gazing lovingly into my face, giving me kitty kisses on the nose, and generally acting like a completely different creature than the sulky little brat that he usually is.
I am trying not to get my hopes up.
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