Give it away, give it away now!

Today as I left one of the schools I was working at, I saw a mom (actually someone I am familiar with) walking towards the minivan with two of her three kids. The two older ones were walking along obediently. The youngest girl, who is about four, was trailing along behind, and screaming like a scalded cat.

Everyone was looking to see where the noise was coming from. And Mom was alternately calling, "Olivia, come on honey, hurry up!" and "OLIVIA MAY! Get over here right NOW, young lady!"

Olivia evidently had gills, because I am not gonna lie- she never stopped for air once. The wailing was loud, unwavering, earsplitting, and unrelentless.

I was loading up my materials into my car, and mom turned to me, heaved a sigh of complete exasperation and exhaustion, and shrugged her shoulders at me weakly as the other kids climbed into her car.

I smiled. "I guess someone's having a bad day!"

"Not just HER..." said mom, darkly. "Seriously, I am at my wit's end. Do you want to take her home with you?"

Obviously, I know that this is a joke. However, this comment has been made to me so many times, by people who know I am childless...and I am just guessing that they think that my childlessness is a choice?

Because if they knew I was infertile, they'd realize how insensitive and callous such a joke would be. But they don't know. Because I am not wearing my big neon sign.

Usually, on days like today, I treat it like the joke it is, and I laugh.

The only time I haven't pulled it off is an occasion I still cringe to remember. We were at a big family gathering, it was late, everyone had had a lot to drink, and my cousins from out of state had just collected their two-year-old from a babysitter- we were all heading back to the hotel in a tram.

The little guy was fussing, and whining, and dumping over his mom's purse, and she turned to me and said, "That's it. Do you want a baby? He's going cheap. Actually, I might pay you to take him."

The Man was sitting next to me, and I swear, he totally stopped breathing. We both were so shellshocked, it was awkward, but I honestly couldn't think of anything that would be appropriate to say.

I could tell the next morning at breakfast that someone had clued my cousin and his wife in. They were both silent and uncomfortable in a way that bespoke something besides just being hung over.

Having gone through this, I don't ever think I would make a joke to anyone like that. I say this in my position of a woman who has never had to be responsible for someone throwing a screaming fit on the Barbie aisle in WalMart, but having gone through such difficulties to have a child....it just seems unfathomable to me.

How are you guys doing this week?

Warm and fuzzy.

Wow....what a switch.

Infertility, and trying to figure out what, if anything, was wrong, has been a focus of my life for so long.

Taking a break has been amazing.

The Man and I have been a lot lovier with each other. Who knew that it's more fun to spend quality time together when it's not all about ovulating and shots and charting?

It's nice to know that sex can be fun and stress-free and spontaneous again. It's fantastic to feel like I have my body back again instead of feeling like a walking test tube.

It's also nice that it's coincided with actual fall-type weather, so there has been a lot of snuggling under down comforters.

When we started this journey, The Man and I decided that since we were working on getting pregnant, the bed should be as amazing as possible. So for Christmas, we asked for a down comforter and pillows. No dice.

We asked for three years in a row. Finally, last year it must have dawned on everyone that HEY! This was something we really wanted. So we got three comforter and pillow sets.

I ended up taking two sets back and replacing them with two sets of luxurious high-thread-count sheets, as well as a ton of oversized bath towels. I seriously believe that these things are the best purchases we ever made, and the best gifts we ever got.


So yeah. If you are already thinking about your Christmas lists for the year, or just a "no reason" nice thing to do for your spouse...get a down comforter and really nice sheets. And if you have a duvet, may I recommend these....and if you have a hard time keeping sheets and dust ruffles in place, these and these are invaluable.

The only drawback for us is that getting out of bed has now become impossible.

I guess now you know why I haven't posted for a couple of days!

Whooh! Okay.

I have decided that this week just needs to die. It's been a crappy week for so many people, both IRL and online, it just needs to go away. And hey, tomorrow's Sunday.

I find it impossible to be sad and listen to this song:



And THEN I saw this commercial, and I have to laugh every time I see it. Maybe it's because I work with kids, but I need to file some of these insults away for future reference.



Anyway. I know a lot of us are having rotten weeks, so I thought I would share.

Here's to next week being fantabulous!!!!!

Hanging

Today has been a seriously awful day.

I am fighting a wretched cold, and I am losing. BOTH my best friends have called in tears because their relationships both ended this week. Also general cramping and nastiness. Thank God for the weekend away next week!!!!

I had work scheduled from 9AM to 10 PM tonight, with a few hours in between to make furtive grabs for meals and my sanity and some fresh lipstick. And as mentioned in the post before this, to make some phone calls. I had a narrow margin between when my RE's office re-opens for lunch (2PM) and the start of my next class (2:30).

In my experience, they always come back late from lunch anyway, and today was no exception. I didn't get through until 2:16.

The good news: I can use the free meds towards an IVF cycle. They agree that it's time to stop with the IUI's, because we are getting nowhere.

So I put myself on the list for January. In order to have caught the IVF boat that leaves in November, I would need to complete my protocols by...well, by today. And start BCP tomorrow. Not happening, because as I have mentioned before, my parents are helping us with this, and I really don't want to make the commitment until I have let them know what's going on.

I have never discussed IVF with my father- it has always been mom. She knows the costs, the odds, everything, and has always said that if push came to shove, they would help us out. But she wasn't home when I called the house, so I talked to Dad, and found out (to my serious dismay) that she hasn't discussed any of this with him.

He freaked out. In his defense. The talk of test tubes and petri dishes and injections is something that he has studiously avoided, and he has referred to IUI as "The turkey baster option" consistently throughout. There was a lot of, "WHAT percentage? HOW much?!!!!!"

I was shocked that mom hadn't discussed this with him, and on top of everything else, it was just too much. I managed to get home and basically had a teary breakdown of epic proportions. The Man petted me and cuddled me, told me not to be an idiot when I wailed that I was "a millstone around his neck", and tried to get me to call in sick for my evening shift at work. When that failed, he made me mac and cheese while I iced my puffy face.

I made it through work. Mom called and I called back and we had a rational chat during my drive home. I feel a lot more hopeful about things.

Then I got home and The Man played me this.

And then THIS:



"It made me think of you," he said. "I know you probably think it's cheesy." (I am more of a rock and roll kind of girl.) It didn't matter to me though. I was still crying, but happy tears.

I may be sad, but boy am I lucky.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Thank you so much ladies. Your helpful words, virtual hugs, and occasional outbursts of profanity helped me more than mere words can express. AF is officially here, and since beta was supposed to be on Monday...yeah. So much for the progesterone!

After a horrible, teary, discussion/meltdown with The Man, we have made a few tentative decisions.

Step one: Cut a hole in the box.

Sorry, wrong plan.

Plan A:
Call clinic tomorrow AM, and demand to speak to someone who is not mentally constipated and/or a beeyotch. My odds here are about 50/50.

Step two: Ascertain whether my free cycle of meds is usable for an IVF cycle, or if they want to switch me to something else. Which I am guessing they will, because last cycle my follicles pretty much laughed at the two tons of Gonal-f that I took and then gave me the finger.

If No, proceed with Plan B. Ask for a no-holds barred opinion of whether or not I should even bother with another IUI.

If they have a genuinely convincing pro-IUI argument, I might be swayed. In which case, I will order meds for Saturday delivery, and attempt to make my day three appointment within the two hour window I have free next Monday. Or, I might take a month off.

(The Man is pushing for time off, which is a switch, but what he said was, "Sweetie, you are way too wound up about this. Maybe you need to back off a little."
My response was such that I am ashamed to answer it here, but it involved lots of snarfling and murderous pillow thumping.)

If they say "Uhhhhhhhh....", see if I can get the meds anyway, in order to donate them to someone for whom they might actually work.

If yes, continue with Plan A. Call an acupuncturist. Get put on the list for the next "IVF Boat" which is leaving in January. Look at the wait time as an investment in getting as healthy as possible. Actually go to the gym and do the fertility yoga DVD (which I unwrapped this last month, but admittedly, did not actually use.)

Make a contingency plan to get through the holidays. My 33rd birthday is on Thanksgiving this year, which is going to make nosy relatives difficult to avoid. I am thinking a small vacation may be in order. My sister will just have to figure out how to make the effing pumpkin pie.

Plan C: eat cookies. Yeah, I caved. Oh, and look forward to Girls Weekend, which is coming up. At least I will be able to have martinis!

Mighty Casey has Struck Out.

Well, crap.

I'm spotting. And it's still disappointing, even though I expected it.

And that's really all there is to say about it.

I guess we're going to need to make some decisions, because going through another IUI cycle just seems like an exercise in futility.

Somebody's watching meeeeeeeeee....

I have a stalker.

I am sure you guys remember the post about Tiramisu, aka "Big Fat Fatty" (Other aliases include "The Woodchuck", "Lunchbox", and "Chunk LaFunk")

I am sorry the picture quality sucks, but his curmudgeonly qualities are such that this is the only photo of him with his eyes open.

Anyway, 'Su has gotten increasingly weird about me. Either we were right about the progesterone or the injections messing with my body chemistry, or I have mysteriously (and undetectably, because I checked to alleviate the paranoia) begun to smell like Li'l Friskies.

When I came home tonight, I did the first thing I usually do in the second half of the 2ww, which is to rip off my bra, because it is cutting off my circulation.

I went into the kitchen to start dinner, and the next thing I know, The Man comes in, bra dangling.

The Man: I just saw something...uh, disturbing.

Me: Let's hear it.

The Man: The cat was uh...making out with your bra. Please put it away.

Me: What the little one? She plays with everything.....

The Man: NO- It was 'SU! He was rubbing all over it and rolling around on it like a porn star. And purring.

?????!!!!!!!!!!

At night, the cats are shut in the office, because the little one creates mayhem and ricochets around all night long. 'Su gets shut in too, because that's where the food and water and kitty "facilities" are.

The other night, we couldn't find him. We finally gave up, shut the bedroom door, and went to bed. At around 6AM, I awoke to feel a solid weight snuggled behind my knees. 'Su had evidently hidden under the bed and waited for us to fall asleep. The Man banished him at some point, and he stayed right outside the door, yowling, until we took pity on ourselves and let him back in.

He's also following me around from room to room, and tonight I fell asleep on the couch and woke up to find him draped across my midsection and lovingly grooming my arm, which is something he has never done. In fact, that is probably why I woke up, since he is a 20 pounder and was probably reducing my lung capacity, not to mention putting out heat like a furry bonfire.

This is seriously freaking me out.

I know I haven't been around- I am working crazy hours, which is great money-wise, but not so hot energy-level-wise or sanity-wise. I need to slow down and schedule some time off to take care of me. Because I am falling asleep during Dancing With The Stars, and that ain't right. (And oh! I am so pissed that Albert went home! He was so sweet and goofy! Aiiiiigh! But then, I didn't vote, so it is all my fault.)

In other news, the second week of the 2ww has begun. I am exhausted (thanks, progesterone!) and for some reason, I cannot eat peanuts without feeling ill afterwards. Could that also have something to do with the progesterone? I seem to recall something about "Do not take this medication if you have a peanut allergy." But I don't have a peanut allergy.

Also, stop the presses! I am tired. And hungry. And bloated, and weepy. And signing off, because you guys seriously don't need to hear about all that, since you're more or less all experiencing it yourselves.