(Lucky) Number 41

Yeah, the confusion is over. After all that on and off spotting, the Crimson Bitch has arrived.

And, it was a "perfect" 28 day cycle. Honestly, it would only be perfect if we actually had the miracle of getting pregnant, but hey, you can't wish for something that won't happen, right?

Blech. I'll write some more later, after I take some drugs to take that feeling of someone ripping out my insides away. Oh, yeah, and crack open a bottle of vino.

Sushi, anyone?

Confusion

I had a little more spotting last night and today-last night's was more pinkish/reddish, and today's was brown. I'm a little confused as to why this is happening. It certainly feels as if my period's coming, but I'm almost 10 days away from that. II'm pretty regular cycle-wise....always around 30 days or so, give or take two days. I don't even temp or check CM anymore-I mean, what's the point of all that when we know that it doesn't make a difference when the tubes aren't patent, right?

I thought I was having some mittelschmerz-type pains on Monday and Tuesday (on my right side, which made sense since I O'd last cycle on the left, according to the wandings), but I NEVER bleed from it. Ever. So, this is out of the ordinary for me. A bit disturbing, really. I just went to the bathroom and it was a brown smear on the toilet paper. And I feel a little bit crampy, and have a heavy feeling in my pelvic area; yet, I'm not bloated as I normally would before AF comes. Also, on Tuesday my boobs started to get sore, then went away. Now they're a little sore again. What the FUCK is going on?

Ugh. I really don't want to call the doctor. I don't want to have to schlep over there and be subjected to wandings or poking and prodding. I guess that if my period truly comes, then I had a shitty short luteal phase this cycle. Which has never happened. If it stops, perhaps..............

But no, I won't go there. There's no point. We all know the answer to that one. The probability of that happening is nil. Even though we did have a sexfest the past two weeks or so. I absolutely refuse to let that little bitch Hope start playing mind games with me. No way. Nope.

*Sigh* Why do I put myself through this?

Advent, Spot, and the Follow-up That Was Never Was

Sounds like the title of a new Nancy Drew mystery, doesn't it?

So, I haven't really been in the "holiday spirit" lately. This is, of course, despite the fact that it seems as if the onset of December has suddenly vomited a riotous display of decorations. In school we have Hanukkah, Christmas, Dwali and Kwanzaa decorations all over the walls. It's also the time of the year where I'm tearing my hair out due to the Holiday Concerts, Carol Services and the like. I really don't feel as if I get to relax until well after Christmas and Epiphany.

Sometimes I wonder if we, as Americans, have forgotten why we celebrate these holidays to begin with. I do feel as if we get too caught up in the whirlwind of gift buying, tree-trimming, and party circuit to remember what it's all about. As a Catholic, Advent is supposed to be about self-reflection, and waiting for the gift of a baby born to redeem mankind. The readings, music and even the church itself all reflects a period of waiting, of anticipation of what it is to come. Then Christmas comes, with a riot of bright colors, trumpets, carol singing, and pointsettias.

Kind of like pregnancy and childbirth, dont'cha think? I can't help but compare it.

This thought really resonated within me last Sunday at Mass, where the readings were about John the Baptist, and how we should prepare ourselves ("Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths.....Rejoice, the Lord is at hand") for the Christ. And, although this happened 2,000 years ago, it still rings true today. Most people prepare for the holidays by shopping, wrapping, and basically stressing themselves out to get the "perfect" gift for their friends and loved ones. But, really, preparing ourselves mentally and spiritually should be the priority. That's not to say that I've gone all pious and uber-Catholic on you, because, according to the Church, I've already got a seat saved for me on the bus to Hell because I'm doing IVF. But Advent is a lot like being pregnant (or, so I assume). There's that waiting, anticipation, nervousness of what's to happen in the future, and how it'll change your life. The whirlwind of planning, buying and making everything "perfect" for the new arrival. And, then the birth of a healthy child, the joy and peace that makes all of those feelings and stresses fade into the background.

God, how I want to be one of those people. How I wish that Advent, for me, would be a real, gestational waiting as well as a materialistic one.

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Oh, yeah, about the follow-up? It was rescheduled for January 2nd, because Dr. Pipsqueak had to cancel. So, I've been just hanging here in Infertility Limbo for the next three weeks or so. Figures.

I had some weird brownish/pinkish spotting today, which has gone away. I was kind of thrown off guard, as I thought that it was my period, but then I realized that it's only CD22, and I'm not due for my period until the 22nd (or later). A bit annoying, really, but that's my body in a nutshell.....

So, What Happens Now?

I've been doing a lot of thinking for the past few days as to what the hell I want to do with all of this. Of course, I've had my pity party (table for one?), gotten trashed, been through the usual emotions that accompany a failed cycle-desperation, frustration, bitterness, anger, sadness. But I haven't explored that vast and slightly scary question of what to do next. Do I do another cycle right away, or do I take another break? Should I throw in the towel altogether or stick it out? And, how do I come to a decision that I can peacefully live with?

Your comments certainly put things into perspective. Things could be a lot worse. How I can say that, given the numerous failures, is insane. But, I do realize that there are people out there who have gone through so much more than even I. Sometimes it's hard to remember or even believe that, but I do acknowledge that. And, that is saying something.

So, what should I do, you're wondering? Well, first thing's first-I go to the follow-up Friday afternoon with Dr. Pipsqueak. I honestly don't think that there will be too many answers to the "why the fuck didn't it work this time" question. There aren't many, besides it's just a bad turn of the infertility roulette wheel. And, I'm sure that they'll suggest to try again. But, at what emotional cost? Is it worth losing my sanity?

I can't remember a day that hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of being pregnant, babies or motherhood. I'm tired of feeling worthless because of another pregnancy announcement, shower invitation or birth announcement. I want my life back again. I want to feel like I did before we were plunged into the world of infertility like jumping into a freezing lake-carefree, naive, ready to take on the world. Now all I feel is cautious, unsure and fearful. I hate being so preoccupied with my girly bits and how they are or are not working. I hate having half of the New Jersey chapter of the ACOG looking up my cooter. I hate that I will never really have a pregnancy that is blissfully ignorant of what could go wrong, if I should be so lucky to get pregnant again in the first place. And, as blasphemous as this will sound (read?), I sometimes hate God that He is just being the observer in this whole drama. That He's stopped listening to me. Hell, I've even prayed to have the desire to be a mother taken away from me, and I'm still being ignored. Go figure.

Yes. I've decided that yes, it IS worth it. I'm not getting any younger. It's not going to get any easier. I've been around the infertility block a few times, so to speak. I know the scene. But, I've decided that I'm tired of being defined by my infertility. I need to accept that I can't control this situation. No amount of praying, acupuncture, pineapple, positive imaging, or medical help will determine the outcome. It's a lot like auditioning in theatre-if you took it personally every time you don't get the part, you won't get very far as an actor or singer. You've got to have a thick skin, in order to pick yourself up and go back to pounding the pavement. Honestly, it's all a game of chance, and, between you and me, I suck at gambling.

But, if the doctors tell me that they "strongly feel" that I will be pregnant and deliver a healthy child, then why don't I feel the odds are in my favor? If they're that confident, why don't I feel the same? I really think that it's because I'm more emotionally invested in this compared to the doctors. That's not to say that they're not emotionally connected in some way-I feel, especially in my clinic, the doctors, nurses and staff are kind, compassionate women. But, they're not going through it (although I did hear a rumor that Dr. Cheery, who did my last transfer, also went through IVF), so they can't truly know how it feels when you get another failed cycle call from your nurse. I truly wish that I could just tune out emotionally during a cycle so it doesn't affect me (don't we all...), but we all know that won't happen.

So, we have 6 three-day embryos left, and hopefully some blasts made it to refreeze. We'll try it again, until they're all used up. Then we'll have to make a decision as to what is next-whether or not we can do another fresh cycle is up to our insurance, as I might or might not have another chance under my coverage. That's as far as I'm willing to go in deciding my reproductive future right now.

That should be enough. More than enough, for now.

Here I Am

It's been a rough week or so since the last post. I have so much to say, and so many things whirling through my head that I don't (can't?) know how to put down. I feel as if I've been gagged, in a way-there are so many emotions running through me and, yet, I can't express them. I've never felt like this before.

Plus, I've had no desire to do anything, except sit on the couch and watch Oprah. And, she's starting to piss me off, so even that isn't working. Needless to say, I'm a fucking mess.

But, I did want to thank you all for your kind thoughts-even saying "holy crap, that fucking sucks monkey balls" means a lot to me. It does help. Even if I still feel like shit, even when I feel as if there will never be a happy ending for us, your support does help, in ways I can't begin to truly express here without sounding cheesy. So, thank you.

There are a lot of thoughts running through my head. For some reason, it's taken me longer this time to get over this latest disappointment. I really think it's because this is starting to take a toll on me, emotionally. I feel lost, drifting in a sea of confusion and apathy. Do I quit, or do I keep going with treatments? How has this changed me, and is it for the better? Do I really care? Am I becoming a cynical, bitter person, devoid of faith or hope? How badly do I want a baby? How far will I go?

Like I said, lots of questions. But, no answers, which really pisses me off. And, we're not likely to get them, at least not in the near future. FET appt, by the way, is on December 8th, so let's see what they say......

Beta

And the results are.............

I'll give you a hint............it's not positive.............

That's right folks, you guessed it-negative beta. Again. I'm batting 0 for 3 right now-three IVF's, three FET's. Or, 39 cycles, if you want to get technical about it.

Perhaps I should just throw in the towel-I mean, it's obvious that it's not going to work for us. What's the point of putting myself through this hell, when I end up with nothing? Nothing except for an extra-heavy period and another month of my life without what I really want. Whoopee-Happy Fucking Holidays.

Peace out-time to make the "why the FET didn't work" follow-up with the RE.

9dp3dt

So, I didn't even get to use the Evil Pee Stick of Despair this morning. When I woke up, I went to the bathroom, and when I wiped there was blood. Bright red blood. Nothing in the toilet, no clots. But, blood.

And the cramping is still there.

I called the RE's office and spoke to a nurse. She told me that it could be my period, or I could be pregnant-it's difficult at this time to tell between pregnancy and periods, because apparently women who go through ART are more likely to bleed during pregnancy. She just said to try to keep off of my feet and take it easy today. However, they're moving up my beta to tomorrow-I mean, why prolong the inevitable? Just put me out of my misery.

It's going to be negative. Again. I just know it. I'm just numb-I don't know what to do anymore. Why won't this work for me? Why is my body failing me yet again? Why doesn't anyone have answers for me. How much longer can I go on doing this?

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**update**
The spotting stopped. The last time I went the bathroom (to poop-sorry if TMI) there was no blood. I peed a few times before that and there was no bleeding, just a small smear of brown. I am still cramping, though not as much as earlier this morning. I'm just trying to take it easy and relax, but it's so damn hard. At least they'll take me for the beta tomorrow, so I'll know either way.

8dp3dt-The Beginning of the End?

Today I've been feeling crampy on and off, like AF is on it's way. About a half-hour ago, when I went to use the bathroom and wiped afterwards, there was a small spot of blood-a tiny bit, the size of a pinprick. There was also a browish bit, kind of like I the stuff I get before AF comes.

I really don't want to test tomorrow-I am getting the feeling that it will be negative, which will only reinforce the fact that this didn't work. But that probably won't stop me, will it? Nope.

AF or the "P" word? I guess we'll find out in a few days.

7dp3dt-Grumble, Grumble, Bitch and Moan

Okay, this waiting shit is getting SERIOUSLY old. Quickly. I'm a bit testy today, can you tell? Probably because I have yet another headache, courtesy of.......who the hell knows. Most of my "symptoms" have been more than likely progesterone-related: bloated, moody, sleepy, hungry, sore and itchy boobs, cramping/pulling feelings. However, there is a plus side-my hair and skin look fierce-hopefully that will be a precursor if this ever works. But, the headaches are a new thing, that I haven't had before. I had a headache for two days straight in the beginning of the week, then I came home, took a nap for about an hour and then, when I woke up, had a killer headache. I took a Tylenol (which is the only thing I can take-it's about akin to dousing a fire by peeing on it), and it's dulled the pain, but didn't completely remove it. Grrr.....

No, I haven't tested yet. I am going to try to hold off until Sunday-it'll be two days before beta day, so more than likely it'll be more accurate. The jury is still out as to whether it'll be positive or not. I am not holding out much hope-I don't know why I say that, but usually my gut feelings turn out to be correct. Then it'll be back to the drawing board, I guess.

I found out today that yet another teacher at school is pregnant. They just keep dropping like flies, it seems. I wish to God that it were me. I wish that every single day. I've done everything I could, pray, visit shrines, done acupuncture, ate lots of protein, ate pineapple, drank raspberry tea, eliminated caffiene, bargained, begged..........and nothing. I'm about to hop a plane to see Watson and get her mom's healer on the case. And, from what Watson has written, I'd have to be incurably insane to even contemplate that. But, I'm contemplating it.

I'm just getting tired of the whole rollercoaster. I'm too afraid to jump off just yet, but how long can I take this stress and anxiety? How long until I have a breakdown?

I just want a baby. I really don't think that it's too much to ask, do you?

6dp3dt-Waiting Sucks Big Moose Testicles

I caved and bought the Evil Pee Sticks of Despair. However, as a testament to my own fucked-sense of "self-control" (because, let's face it-if I really had self-control, I wouldn't have even bought the damn things to begin with), the box is still sealed. Let's take bets to see how long it'll be before I rip the box to shreds in an attempt to urinate on those killjoys.

I'm going with Saturday. Sean won't be around, and the temptation will be too much. At least, if he's around, he keeps me busy, but I can't be responsible for what I do if he's not here.

Ugh. I fucking hate this waiting. Patience may be a virtue, but it's one that I don't have right now.

Five more days. Then all will be revealed. As to whether or not I have a feeling if it worked-well, I don't know. Usually I can pretty much trust my instinct, but this time I'm not sure. Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't. I just wish that I could be just like everyone else-to not have to worry , and wait, and hope, and doubt my own body's ability to implant an embryo.

The 2WW is a mindfuck. And that's all I have to say about that.

5dp3dt-Housekeeping and a Meme, Or Ways to Pass The Time In The 2WW

Well, I've switched over to Blogger Beta-might as well, right? They're going to do it eventually down the road, so I just got a head start. So far, so good-I need to play around with it a bit.

I also did some housekeeping on the blog-added my new gmail address, went through my blogroll, which was a bit weird. I deleted some blogs that I read religiously, but are now defunct, which was a bit sad. I also added in those that I've been reading for awhile, but haven't been posting to, so if I forgot anyones, or if you want your blog added, just send me an email and I'll put it in.

Now, what's a 2WW without a meme? Thanks to Nickie, I've got one, so here it is:

Five Things You May Not Know About Me:

1. I never got to attend my high school graduation. I actually found out, about five days before, that I had failed a class by three-tenths of a point, and the teacher refused to pass me because I was in the music program in high school and she was pissed off that I was being taken out of her class for chorus dress rehearsals. My parents went to school to appeal, they tried to get the board of education to make an exception, but no dice. So, I was not allowed to attend, and had to get a tutor for the summer in order to pass and be able to keep my acceptance for college. Stupid cow. I hope she gets crabs.

2. I absolutely cannot go to sleep without socks (hereafter called "sockies"-the kind of slipper grip socks that you get) on. Even in the summer. For some reason, I can't sleep with my feet uncovered-it freaks me out to have bare feet on the sheets. My favorites are a fleece pair that feel so soft....bliss. Just call me quirky, I guess.

3. I am distantly related, somehow, to a certain actor who gained notoriety within the past few years for allegedly murdering his wife. And no, it ain't OJ. Apparently, his mother and my great-grandmother were closely related (they were sisters, I believe, but I'm not sure). I've never personally met him, but I think I remember my grandfather saying he did, once.

4. I love cheese. There, I've said it. Everything must contain cheese, or life ain't worth living. Well, everything except blue and goat cheese-they're too gross for me. My ultimate favorite late-night snack is a cheddar cheese and mayo sandwich on wheat bread. My mother used to gag every time she saw me making it. Let's just say that I'm sure that I don't have a calcium deficiency and that my arteries have been probably screaming for mercy for about 10 years now. I'm probably short-listed for Lipitor, too.

5. My great-grandfather was adopted. His story is the classic tale of the baby born out wedlock (and fathered by the town rich boy) and left on the church steps in Italy. He was adopted, then, later on as an adult, right before he left for America, he found out who his biological father was. When he arrived at Ellis Island, he gave his father's surname as his own to the immigration authorities. It's unclear as to why he went to America-he apparently left Italy "suddenly". Then again, I did find out from my mother that he was also a bookmaker during the Depression (and no, I don't mean a person who binds novels, if you get my drift *crooking nose to the side with finger*), so it's probably shady all around. By the way, he also had bright red hair and freckles-he looked like someone from Limerick rather than from Avellino, Italy. Go figure.

Well, there it is-my meme. Whoever wishes to participate, go for it-I won't tag anyone (you've already probably done it in the past).....

Now, what else to do for the next 6 days? Arrgh-this SUCKS!

3dp3dt: Here We Go Again....

God, how I detest the two week wait. Usually, the first week is not so bad, but, the second part of it......well, I'd rather eat shards of glass. And wash it down with battery acid. With a side of razor blades. You get the idea.

The show is over. I've got mixed feelings about it. The cast was great, the acting was great, but the music......substandard. Yes, it's community theater, but my personal opinion is that the musicians themselves weren't so bad-it was the conductor/musical director. Honestly, if you're being paid about a grand to do a job......well......DO IT, and do it well. But, it's all over and now I need something to obsess over until the beta.

I've been feeling a bit crampy today, low down, and have had a headache tonight. I refuse to look into the usual signs and symptoms, the "maybe's" that will suck you in for the 2WW. I know, realistically, that it's just the progesterone supplements that are fucking with me. They're just a big headgame, and I don't want to freak myself out. I just have to hope that those two embryos are burrowing their way into my uterus (or, at least one-I'm not greedy, really) and settling in.

We're back on the rollercoaster again, my friends. Whether I stay on the ride or end up puking and having to be removed is still anyone's guess. I'm hoping to stay on, though-and I HATE rollercoasters.

However, I'd gladly make an exception, at least in this case.

They're In

Today's transfer went amazingly well.

We met with Dr. Cheery, who told us that we had a choice to make. They thawed all 8 of the day 2 embies, and ended up with five-two that looked really good, and then three that they would watch for a few days, and, if they go to blast stage, will refreeze. So, our choice was either transfer the original two in, or add one more that looked good. Since adding another one isn't going to up our chances of pregnancy, only a greater chance of multiples, we went with the two (which we were told were a 7-and 8-celled "very good embryos-they don't do grading at BIC), which both Dr. Cheery and the embryologist were happy about.

I got a nice surprise in the OR, when Dr. Cheery and the embryologist approached the table with the pictures-the 8-celled embryo became a morula since earlier today-it just confirmed the choice we made about only transferring two. So, in they went, with no problems.

Of course, being the overachiever that I am, I drank way too much water beforehand. Like, I almost wet myself in the waiting room. I actually had to void a small cupful before the transfer-let me tell you, I must have great Kegel muscles, because it took everything I had not to finish peeing once I started. I was still full though, and, for the first time in my life, I had to use a bedpan in the recovery area...and filled the whole damn thing....ewwww. Hey, it's better than peeing myself, the doctor or the nurses. I guess there's got to be a first for everything.

Thanks to all of you for your good luck mojo (and Shelli-thanks for the voicemail-I let Sean listen to it and he had a chuckle at your whoo-de-ha reference) and kindness. It means even more, considering neither of our families know about this cycle (we only told two really close friends who are sworn to secrecy). So, thanks again-you all rock.

So, that's it. Beta is on the 21st. Everything that can be done has been done. There's nothing left to do but wait.

A Chance At Hope

I'll be there in two hours and 45 minutes. Wow.

How do I feel about this FET? Well, I've got some mixed feelings about this one. Not that I think that it's going to or not going to work, but I don't dare to hope that this will work out. I'm afraid to think of it at all, really. I try as hard as possible to put it from my mind, so as not to dwell on the "what if's". I am excited though-it's like a new chance at hope. But I don't want to be let down yet again, and right before Thanksgiving too (that's when the beta is-two days before Thanksgiving). Plus, I have a performance tonight, and I'm having slight anxiety that perhaps doing a FET today, then performing tonight isn't the best thing to help those chances along. Although, I was in the same situation for my first FET, and it initially worked, so........

You see why I can't let myself think about it-it just makes me mental (or, even more mental than normal).

The Doryx is killing me-the STENCH coming from my lower digestive tract is enough to euthanize a large farm animal. Thank GOD I take my last tablet tonight. I might have to take some anti-gas stuff, or else I'll end up suffocating my dressing room mate tonight. Although, I could blame it on the guys using our bathroom (in the theater, our dressing room is on the first floor, and it's the only one with a bathroom, so others use it besides us). That's the one plus about being one of two women in a 26 member cast-you can blame shit like that (pardon the pun) on the guys. Heh.

In other news, we got a write-up in one of the local newspapers about the show, and the reviewer loved it! I got the link sent to me by a castmate, and when I opened it up I saw a picture of myself and the two guys that play Franklin and Adams on the top-woot! The reviewer called me "the picture of charm, with a dash of sauciness". I swear, I don't know the guy, but he's got my number, all right.....well, at least I'm not belching, swearing, and telling dirty jokes onstage-then everyone would know that I'm not acting-it's all me.

Well, off I go to shower and not use any fragrances (Lut, I did get your comment, and I was told that the reason for that is since the transfer is done in the operating room, they want a sterile environment. They also want no chemical residue on you that could possibly damage the embryos.). I'll be back on later today to give you the report.

Please, please let there be something to transfer. Please let them be strong and healthy.

Please, let this work.

We've Got A Time, People

Nurse Blondie called and left a message this afternoon. I need to be at the Women's Center Friday afternoon at 12:45pm, big-ass bottle of water on hand. No perfumes, deodorant (ewwww!) or hairspray of any kind to be used. Just me, au natural.

Should I shave the cooter in a funky shape, for shits and giggles? Perhaps in the style of an embryo? Or maybe a heart, and write inside it "I *heart* Dr. Pipsqueak" (I think that she's on for transfers)? Maybe a geometric pattern? The jury's still out on that one-it would sure be a topic of conversation, wouldn't it? Heh.

I've started all the meds, and I'm feeling a bit "testy", thanks to the progesterone pills. Hey, beggars can't be choosers, though-at least it ain't the ass shots this time. The Medrol tastes like ass, though. Did you ever notice that there's a nasty bitter aftertaste after you swallow Medrol tablets? Kinda like licking the inside of a rusty tin can that once contained overcooked broccoli rabe, but more gross. And no, I'm not chewing them. I try to get them down in my gullet as quickly as possible. The water isn't helping either-it just washes the ass-taste across my tongue and into my taste buds. Blech. And let's not get into the Doryx. Suffice it to say that I have had no problems in the defecatory department since starting them yesterday. Or the gaseousness seeping out of my pooper, either. The cats are fighting to sleep next to me, since I'm warmer than sleeping next to the radiator. Thank God they don't try to bury under the blankets-then we'd have petrified kitties to wake up to.

It'll all be over in 48 hours or so. I've got some plans here for the 2WW to keep my sanity alive, so stay tuned.......

Bribery Is A Good Thing, Really

I guess that the bribery on the girls worked, because I got the call for the transfer day. It's this Friday, November 10th. Time to be determined. I'll know more about what time it'll be tomorrow when the nurse calls. I got my antibiotic, Medrol and progesterone pills all lined up on the counter-I'll start popping pills tomorrow morning.

Damn, now I've gotta get them those new shoes I saw in Nordstrom's. Who the hell knows what revenge they'll plot if they're not in my closet. At least I didn't give in on the BMW-there'd be hell to pay if I came home with an X3, that's for sure.

Of course, I've got a performance that night, but since I'm only in two scenes (and that's including the one where I'm making out onstage with the guy playing Thomas Jefferson) it won't be a big deal. I can just crash backstage for the rest of the show in my dressing room with the cracktop-no biggie.

We got through opening weekend-the orchestra (or, should I say MD) still blew big monkey chunks on Friday and Saturday night. I spoke to the producer and SM about it more in detail (as well as others in the cast), and Sunday's matinee was the first time it felt good, so hopefully next weekend's performances will be good. Of course, a reviewer had to come on Friday's performance, but whatever-there's not much else I can do about that, except sing the hell out of it (which I did!).

So, that's the story, for now. I'll be back tomorrow to update on a time.

Let's get the show on the road, dammit!

Still Nothing Yet

As of yesterday's bloodletting, my LH was at 11, so I'm not quite ready yet. Almost, but no cigar. The nurse who called me yesterday afternoon told me that my LH needs to be in the "high teens" for them to see that I'm about to ovulate, so it should be soon. I hope.

This shit is starting to old, if you know what I mean. I'm starting to make deals with my ovaries-a nice vacation, a new purse and shoes, some bling, perhaps. They must be holding out for something really good. Luckily I can't afford the BMW X3 that they're whinging about, or else I'd be screwed.

Those fuckers sure do drive a hard bargain. They just better do their job, or all bets are off.

Nothing Yet

I've been going daily since Monday for bloodwork, and I guess there's not been any indication of ovulating yet. I go again tomorrow for more bloodletting.

Great-I get to look like a junkie again. Well, there is a positive to all this-at least the bruises on the insides of my arms will nicely match the lavender in my costume. And my red wig. Plus, I was starting to get a little worried that I'd ovulate today or tomorrow and then have the transfer scheduled for Sunday afternoon, since I have a matinee that day and it would be a little hard to explain to people either (a). why I'm not at the show or (b). why the clinic needs to wait until Monday to do the transfer. The less I have to explain, the better it is for everyone.

That's all, folks. I'm bringing the cracktop with me to rehearsal tonight, so if I'll get a signal in there, I'll be back on later.

Follicular Update

Today's wanding showed that the left follicle is now at 15mm, so I'm back in tomorrow morning for more bloodletting. Dr. Pipsqueak estimates that I'll ovulate within the next couple of days. Of course, now that I've been poked with my left ovary is twinging, so hopefully she helped it along (yah, right!).

Replacement looks like it will be anytime from Friday on. Then the waiting begins.

I start the dreaded tech week tonight (Nickie-the show is "1776", btw). Sunday's orchestra run-thru (known as the sitzprobe) was a fiasco-it took the MD an hour and a half to get through the first five numbers of the show. Let's not get into that there's only an 8 piece orchestra. In the middle of all this I had to report to the costumer to try on my stuff (of which there is A LOT-ladies wore a lot of heavy stuff during the Revolutionary War era), and, of course, there were some alterations needed. By the time I got back downstairs, the orchestra was packing up to leave-WTF!?!?! When I questioned the MD, he said "well, they have to catch a train", and I freaked out-I mean, FREAKED OUT like a diva. I told him (in front of the director) that this was ridiculous, that I was called for a music rehearsal last week and wasn't used, and now couldn't even rehearse my number with the orchestra to even hear what the dance break sounds like (since I've never heard it played). The poor director was trying to smooth over the situation, offering to drive the orchestra people to the train station so we could rehearse, but I said "forget it" and walked out, got in my car, and left. I honestly don't even think that they got through the whole show, since I left an hour-and-a-half into the two hour rehearsal and they only got through five numbers. Just a waste of time. So, tonight I'll bring the laptop, sit and do my thing. I've kind of resigned myself that I can't do anything more than I'm already doing. I mean, I'm only in two scenes in the show, I'm not expecting the star treatment, but I do expect that if you call me to a rehearsal, make sure that you actually use me, since I'm driving 40 minutes to get there, and I'm not being paid to do it. Sheesh.

Whoops, sorry for that rant. Suffice it to say that I might not be posting a whole lot this week, unless I get a signal in the theater. You might actually get a play-by-play during this whole thing, who knows.

This jist of this post is that, well, we're on our way to FET#3-the question that we're all wondering here is if the third time is a charm.

Guess we'll have to find out the hard way.

Limbo

Today was cycle day 10 and monitoring day. Of course, because it was a shitty rainy nasty day outside this morning, it took almost an hour to get to the RE's office instead of the usual 25 minutes, since there were two accidents and roads closed due to flooding. But, at least it wasn't for naught-I've got a nice 10mm follicle growing on the left ovary. I get to go back on Monday for another date with the Follicular Lurve Wand and another bloodletting to see what's going on. Hopefully we'll get some more details as to when the transfer will be by then.

As for me, well-things are just in a state of limbo lately. I've been having some issues at work, which I won't get into here, because......well.....just because I'm not sure who reads this anymore. Suffice it to say that I'm getting more and more frustrated where I am, and I have to make such an effort to not let it affect my teaching. I also go into tech, beginning tomorrow, for my show. Which, is going so-so. I had such a good experience with my first show that this one is a little bit of a let-down, in some ways. Not with the director or AD/SM, but the MD and choreographer kind of have their heads up their asses. I mean, what MD "forgets" to bring the score for a run-thru and fakes his way with playing through the show? I have yet to hear the dance break to my number, because the MD "can't really play it" (his words). Plus, the choreographer, although he might be a good dancer, is just not that good of a teacher. He throws out all these technical dance terms out like he's Mr. Knowledge, but then can't teach the moves. Just weird. I really think that the director didn't get a say as to who his team would be, which is common in nonpaying theater. Let's just hope that these things iron themselves out this week, or else we're seriously fucked.

So, that's where I am at right now-in a state of perpetual limbo. I don't think that I like it. Not that being hopped up on hormones in the middle of a cycle is any better, but hey, at least it's not boring, right?

Note To Self....

Do NOT blog when doped up on cold medication. Please, for the love of all that's holy, spare the general population from the incoherent babbling that I just did last night.

I can spell, really. Watch...........Nyquil. N-Y-Q-U-I-L. Nyquil. It seems as if the "i" and "l" looked extremely like one another last night. Or, was it double? Who knows at this point.

Well, at least I didn't end up at a frat house in bed with a man who smells like he took a leisurely swim at the Budweiser brewery. Oh, wait.........never mind, that was another time.......

Just remember-friends don't let friends blog when fucked up.

Blah blah blee blah

My body "gave" me the pentultimate birthday presents this year.

Thursday afternoon I got my period-it looked like an episode out of CSI, by the way..............and Sunday I woke up with a cold.

Woot. It wouldn't matter so much if my show didn't open NEXT WEEK. GAH!

So, I'm a bit doped up on the Nyqull, and will probably pass out momentarily. Being sick blows.

-------------------------------------------------

I had a nice birthday weekend, nonetheless. Sean, being the coolest guy in the universe that he is, invited four of our friends over and cooked me a birthday dinner on Friday (my actual birthday). From scratch. That didn't involve a telephone, opening a box and/or a microwave. And it was GOOD-Prime rib roast, potatoes, spaghetti squash, green beans, salad. Alas, getting birthday nookie would have been the icing on the cake, but with the my bud Cap'n Bloodsnatch about it was pretty much a no-no. Saturday we went to visit my parents and stayed overnight, which was fun. I got to play with Rocky the ADD dog and Oreo the 22 lb cat, who is not fat, but "big-boned" (Seriously-he's part Maine Coon) and loves to have you carry him around while he purrs loudly in your ear. Of course the risk of hernia is high in my parent's house.

Now, on to the reproductive front. I go to the RE on the 28th (Saturday morning) for a wanding and bloodletting, which should be CD 10. If all goes well, the estimated ET should be the week afterwards. Let's hope that my body cooperates this time-I'm doing my part by trying to stay as stress-free as possible. Then we'll be on to the dreaded 2WW, which is oh so much fun-I'd rather stick a rusty pitchfork in my leg.

So, there you have it-I'm a boring old fart. I do want to wish Cat a happy belated birthday, though (and thanks for the e-card-you rock!) and my sincerest apologies for not blogging you a "shout-out" on Thursday. You can completely webslap my ass-I'll even schlep out to Brooklyn if you want to do it in person....

Time to crash-I can hardly see the screen and can't keep my eyes open. I LOVE the Nyqull. It's the best.

Silenced

I'm sure most of you in the IF world have already read about the hullabaloo on Thalia's blog. For those who haven't, she was basically "outed" by her RE and clinic for having a blog. They have been reading it for a while now, her RE brought it up during an appointment, and apparently are less than pleased by how they are being portrayed. And, in the end, it has silenced her. She has decided to stop posting, indefinitely.

How do I feel about this? It makes me sad-she's an invaluable member of our community. Her posts have gotten me through some tough times. We always seem to cycle around the same time, and I was honored to have such a "cycle buddy". It also makes me angry that a physician could be so unprofessional as to bring up something like that during an appointment (and against the advice of the other staff members, might I add). Perhaps that anger is also a selfish one, because I want her to keep blogging, but I do understand why she's not. She doesn't want to jeopardize her relationship with those doctors and nurses. She also relayed that the way that they found out was that she posted on a message board about her clinic and posting her blog link, which the clinic found and read (and even printed out and showed bits to her RE) and were upset. So, she feels partially to blame, because she left the door open for them to find her.

I still feel that the doctors were extremely unprofessional in even bringing it up. Would they have wanted her to tell them that to their faces? Of course not. If I had my RE tell me that, I'd apologize if what they read was uncomfortable or hurtful, but that they shouldn't take it personally. They're supposed to be professionals, for the love of God. It's not like she was leaking government secrets or research statistics. I'm sure that these people have had a lot worse said to them over the years. But, to bring it up during an appointment? What was the purpose of it? To make her feel badly about it? To have her stop blogging? Well, if that was the desired effect, he certaintly got it.

Thalia's RE told her that he felt it compromised the doctor/patient relationship. This raises numerous questions to me (and I'm sure to other bloggers). How? It only compromises it if the doctors allow it to. It certainly didn't seem that Thalia felt that-she wouldn't be at that clinic if she felt that she wasn't getting the best care, regardless of what she posted. What if she didn't blog, and by word of mouth said the same things? Would the RE be ethically allowed to bring it up with her? Does a doctor have the right to make a patient feel as if they can't express feelings about their care, regardless of how it makes them look in the eyes of others? If that patient went to a therapist and verbalized the same things that Thalia wrote on her blog, would their provider of care have the right to challenge that or express an opinion, should they find out any of that information? No, because the patient is protected by doctor/patient confidentiality. However, I don't think that the same principles apply in the reverse. Doctors are being paid for a service they provide. They must realize that it's competitive (especially IF) and people can choose from a number of providers to care for them. Now, that doesn't mean that patients should make slanderous comments about their doctors (which Thalia did not do, btw), but it does mean that those providers of care need a thicker skin when dealing with their patients, particularly in the specialty of infertility. They are dealing with women hopped up on hormones, who are frightened and unsure of their reproductive future, and are putting their hopes and trust in a complete stranger. How can they not expect us to be snarky or brutally honest when describing what we go through every day? How can they expect us to keep silent?

It also raises the unending debate of how having a public blog doesn't truly protect you, even if you post anonomyously. That we, by giving the public a view of our personal lives, open ourselves to being outed. I certainly took a risk with the Wall Street Journal article last month. So, why did I do it? Because I'm not ashamed of my disease (and yes, I called it that, because that's what it is). People in my "real world" as well as in the blogosphere know what's going on. Yes, it does open me up to people finding out about the blog that I don't want to-family members, work colleagues, but it's a risk that I'm willing to take, because we need the support from those people out there in the world who are going through what we are. We can't talk to our friends or family about our struggles, because they can't empathize. They don't "get it". But here, we don't need to censor or even explain ourselves, because we know that, ultimately, we do empathize and understand it due to the unfortunate fact that we're either going through or have gone through the same thing. I also hope that perhaps my story will resound in someone else's life, and they'll know that they're not alone in what they're feeling and experiencing. Perhaps it will inspire other men and women to share their story, as blogs like Thalia's inspired me to keep writing, even when I had no words.

What would I do if I were in her situation? I don't know. I'd hate to be outed, that's for sure. I'd worry about hurting someone's feelings. I'd wonder if my care from then on in would be compromised due to what I'd written. So, I do understand why she made the decision she did.

But it doesn't negate the fact that she's been silenced. And that's a damn shame.

So Thalia, I love you, I wish you well, that you make it to the "other side" soon, and I hope that your departure is only a slight vacation from us. And we look forward to your words, whenever you decide to return.

Just Fucking Sucks

Please, please, show Manuela and Mr. P your support.

I am so, so sorry. Please know that we're all here for you.

Gotta Love the Apathy

Ho Hum. Just sitting around, waiting for that visit from ol' Cap'n Bloodsnatch. Like it's different from any other month, right?

I'm taking bets as to when Red October will dock.........tomorrow, the weekend? Nah, it'll show up next Friday. Why, you're asking yourself? Not just because my last name should be Murphy (as in that pesky little "law"), but because, Friday is my birthday, and what better gift to get than that. It's like getting coal in your socks from La Befana instead of gifts on Epiphany. Seriously though, it's happened before, when we were first trying. I got it on my 30th birthday-that pretty much threw any birthday nookie right out the window for me. Bastards.

I really really must update some stuff on here, as well as post a bit more on other's blogs. I've been so self-absorbed lately, which I don't like. Then again, I've also been apathetic, which I definitely don't like. I just haven't had the energy lately to do much of anything. I've also been having a hard time getting up in the mornings, and getting to sleep at night. It's annoying, really. So, I must get back into the grind of things. I will. I promise.

Just as soon as I get up off of the couch, I swear I'll get right on that.

Rolling the Dice with the Pipsqueak.........Again

I haven't posted in awhile. I haven't even posted on other blogs lately, so I apologize up front to everyone. I tried to post, I really did. I even have some started and saved as drafts. But, I didn't feel that I had much to say. I'm not pregnant, I'm without faith, life sucks, job is starting to feel stagnant, Sean and I are bickering back and forth for the past two weeks about the stupidest things. I mean, those kind of posts gets old, if you get my drift. I feel dissatisfied with everything. I know that it's because the one thing I want the most is missing from my life. Perhaps I'm having "infertility treatment withdrawal symptoms".

Heh.

We had our follow-up with Dr. Pipsqueak today. I took a sick day, and Sean took a half-day at work so he could go to the appointment. She told us that she had no real reason why the FET didn't work out-the 7-cell embryo looked "good" and even the 5-cell was promising. She even said that if it had worked none of the RE's would've been surprised to see twins. My lining and progesterone were great throughout the cycle. She felt that it was simply a case of "rolling the dice" to get the right cycle for a pregnancy. She said that she still "strongly believes" that I will get pregnant and have a baby, but it's only a matter of when and what cycle. She was really great though-she's got this knack for being clinical, yet sympathetic and personal. And, she loved my new sweater I wore for the occasion. Clinical, sympathetic, personal, and appreciates fashion-can't get better than that, right?

Here's the deal-she feels that we should try a natural cycle for the next FET. Now that my ovaries aren't being messed about with drugs (which was the reason for the synthetic FET-it was too soon after the IVF cycle and she felt that my ovaries were still swollen) and my cycles are pretty much back to normal, there's no reason not to try. She feels that perhaps not being hopped up on meds might be a benefit to the cycle (the only time I was pregnant was on a natural transfer cycle). And, since lovely AF will be here within the next week or so, I'll be able to do a transfer (barring any delays) at the end of October, right in time for the lab to reopen.

So, once Leak Week starts, I have to call the office and let them know. Then, beginning on CD 10, I'm in for bloodwork, which will be more often since they have to watch my LH surge (oooh.....yay! Can't wait to look like an addict again). I'll only have to wait for a date with the Lurve Wand twice though, since they're not counting follicles (they'll only use it to confirm ovulation) so at least that will make my life a little easier. Then I'll take the Medrol and Doryx for four days, have the transfer, then take oral progesterone. No PIO-there IS a God!

That's the deal, at least for now. We left there renewed, perhaps not spiritual in the religious sense, but renewed in the sense that someone (present company excluded) has faith that this will work for us. Perhaps, after all, this will work for us.

Hmmm........perhaps God is trying to tell me something?

Hazard Zet Forward

This is the motto of my alma mater, which also happens to be the oldest diocesan Catholic university in the United States, was founded by Archbishop James Roosevelt Bayley and named for his aunt, who was the first American-born Catholic saint. It was a great place to spend my university "career".

I had a wonderful experience there. Among the highlights is meeting the lovely Sean in the Corrigan Hall chorus room as a 17 year old freshman. I also met some amazing people there, got to be a part of theatre and music programs, pledged a sorority. Yes, I did things other than party, drink my face off and.....other things- I also somehow made it to classes and managed to graduate, so it can't be all bad.

Hazard Zet Forward, translated into English means "through adversity we will move forward". Some of the religious community on campus also used to say "Forward Through Faith", which is also nice, but I like the literal translation better. I never thought that it would apply to my own life, but, circumstances being what they are, it aptly parallels my life at this point in time.

I've been thinking of a lot of things for the past two weeks or so, since the FET didn't work. I've thought about whether or not this IVF path will ever work for us, if we should just give up. If, perhaps, I'm meant to do other things besides being a parent. But, mostly, I've thought about faith, and if it's possible that I'm starting to lose mine.

What has been fueling this is because, for the past two weeks in church, the readings were all about putting your faith into God and to trust that you'll be cared for. Of course, it was getting me a bit teary-eyed at one point, since I feel that lately I have so little faith in anything, let alone God. One of the pieces the choir sang at the Communion Meditation was "O Lord, Increase My Faith", which was written by Orlando Gibbons (there's an audio link here, in case you want to hear it):

O Lord, increase my faith
strengthen me
and confirm me in Thy true faith.
Endue me with wisdom, charity and patience
in all my adversity.
Sweet Jesus, say Amen.

At rehearsal, A usually starts everything off with a prayer-he's got this great book on "choral prayers", and it was so appropriate to the text of the Gibbons piece-it spoke about how, no matter how bad things are in your life, or whether or not you think that you can bear any more, to just say "Amen" and leave it up to God. It frightens me to even have to give up any semblence of control that I think I have, because it means putting my faith in God to help me through this. But, what if it doesn't happen-is it God's will? Do I just accept that? Does it make me a better, more spiritual person for it? I really don't know anymore. It's scary to give that burden up and leave the details to God (or fate, destiny, karma, whatever you believe), because I'm so afraid that He's not listening anymore. That the reason He's not given me children is because I'm not meant to have them. I've prayed, begged, pleaded, visited shrines, you name it. Up until now, my faith has remained. So, why now is it starting to waver?

Well, let's add into the mix my upcoming 34th birthday. I know that, in comparison to many in our world, I'm a young'un, but with each passing year I feel like my window of opportunity has gotten smaller and smaller. I have no fears about being an "older" mother, but my greatest fear is that, since we've not had a successful pregnancy in the four years we've already been trying, my age will start factoring into the mess of my infertile life, and tip the scales hopelessly against me.

I've been so discouraged lately-I hate that I can't think about anything else but infertility. I hate that it seems to intrude with every part of my life. I hate that I don't feel "normal". I hate that it's affected my physical relationship with my husband (because, let's face it, there's no such thing as "fun" sex anymore). And, I hate that I feel that I have nowhere to turn, that even God isn't listening to me anymore. It's like God and I aren't speaking anymore, much like two teenage girls who are in a snit over a Justin Timberlake poster. How do I change this? I don't know. It's not like I can to talk to a priest or religious about this, since what I'm doing is against Church Law ("Hey Father, can I unburden myself to you about my failed IVF cycles and fertility treatments? Oh.......I'm committing a mortal sin, huh? And I'm going to Hell? Okaaaay.....well, thanks for reminding me-sorry to have bothered you...."). I feel trapped, like I have nobody to listen to me-I mean, if even God isn't listening, who will, right?

Hazard Zet Forward. But, where exactly will I end up?

The Dirty Little Secret

that RE's don't tell you when you've had a failed FET..

Is that your period, when it finally decides to show itself, is a lot like the Hoover Dam being released across Nevada.

Holy shit-it was like a crime scene in the toilet. If I had some chalk and police tape I'd have had to cordon off the bathroom and drawn an outline around the bowl. Not to be too gross (who am I kidding, it's an infertility blog, right? You all can handle it), but I was spotting for a day or so leading up to what I like to call "Bloodapalooza 2006", and when I sat down on the throne first thing Wednesday morning, it literally poured out of my whoo-ha. I'm totally serious-it just fell out. Blood, huge clots and all. I could have probably gotten a half-pint out of it and sent it to the blood bank, it was that much. It was the second most disgusting thing that ever happened to me (we won't discuss in detail the most disgusting thing-suffice it to say that it involved a seven-year old me, poop, a locked front door at my great-aunt's house, and a pair of ruined panties). I have to say that it's one of the few times in my life that I've regretted being female.

Apparently, it's "normal", due to the Estrace/PIO cocktail. Isn't it funny that what is considered "normal" in the IF world means "freak" to the rest of the child-bearing world?

Well, at least I more than likely raised the stock value of the company that makes Tampax. See, there are some benefits to infertility. Now, if I could only get my hands on some shares......

Psycho Hose Beast Checking In.....

And now, back to our regularly scheduling blogging.....

So, what to do now that the second FET failed? Besides eating crap
food, drinking a lot of wine and sitting my fat ass on the couch?
Well, it's time to make the dreaded lets go into graphic detail as to why we think your uterus is fucked up "follow up" appointment. Ours is set for October 6th. The day before our 6th anniversary-who loves ya, baby!? Sean wants to ask Dr. Pipsqueak
whether we should try the timed intercourse thing for a little
while-apparently, he feels that perhaps we (read: he) didn't "try hard
enough". After I recovered from shooting Pepsi-Free out of my nasal
passages, I told him that it wasn't worth it, knowing that we have a
snowball's chance in hell of it working. He disagrees, but I think
that it's because he 's being a typical male and just wants the nooky.
Urgh, just what I want to do-start using the stupid fertility monitor,
and schedule baby-(un)making sex. I'd rather watch paint dry, frankly.

I've been feeling a little bitter lately (uh...can ya tell??), and am vacillating between feelings of sadness, apathy and....dare I say it....the "H" word (nah, I don't dare-I'm a wimp). I'm finding that I have an extremely low bullshit tolerance. Here's an example of how a social situation might unfold for me lately:

On Saturday we met M and Sexy J at a local restaurant just to hang out and have a pizza and booze. Now, I must say firstly that M is impatient. Extremely impatient. So impatient that she wants everything yesterday (at least she acknowledges this). So, they get to the restaurant first. The town that we're dining in has a really shitty parking situation, so we are playing the "circle like vultures for a parking spot" game like nobody's business. In the 15 minutes it takes for us to park and walk the 100 feet to the restaurant, she calls my mobile three times. THREE TIMES. I didn't bother to pick up the phone, but it just put me on edge.

Then again, the wind shifting from an easterly to southerly direction would make me edgy, but I digress.....

So, we get to the restaurant, and meet them. There is a table right next to us (very close to ours), with a father and young son sitting there (they looked as if they were waiting for their waiter to bring the change). The boy was about five or so, and he was banging on the table, shouting and generally being unruly in public (this is a pet peeve of mine-if you're going to bring a kid to a restaurant at 8:30 in the evening, or at any time of the day, make sure that they know what's expected of them). M was trying to ask me a question, but I couldn't hear a word of what she was saying, because of the loud, unruly devil's spawn child. Finally, I said (in an obviously annoyed tone), "I'm sorry, I can't hear what you're saying". The father looks at me as I sit down, and actually has the balls to say to me "Yeah, you'll see, having young kids isn't easy".

Them's fighting words, as far as I'm concerned. I retorted with "Well, perhaps if I could have kids, I'd be able to see that", and turned my back to him, but not before seeing his mouth drop open. Fucker. He beat a hasty retreat after that, and I was able to enjoy myself for the rest of the evening.
Of course, I shouldn't make others feel bad to make myself feel good, but fuck it. I was in a great mood after that.

So, suffice it to say that I'm acting like a psycho lately. And I really don't care.

I've got so many things running through my head right now. Why didn't this work? Will this ever work? Is it worth it to even continue? How much longer can I take this roller coaster ride I'm on? I'm tired of taking tons of medications for nothing. I'm tired of half of the New Jersey chapter of the American College of Reproductive Medicine looking up my cooter, with nothing to show for it but an empty uterus. And I'm definitely getting tired of waiting. I've been patient-hell, four year is more than patient, in my opinion. So, when will it be my turn?

All questions that will hopefully be answered in a few weeks. That is, if there are any answers. Let's hope that there are, though-I need them desperately.

Here it is....

Thanks to Cat, here's the file (finally!):

http://www.box.net/public/ofkkcejalg

Enjoy!

ARRRGH!!

I am so fucking frustrated right now. I've been trying for two whole days to get the WSJ article to my blog, and, as you can tell, it's not here yet. That's because I have no idea how to get it here! I've saved it as an Adobe file, but I have no clue as to how to post the link. I suppose I could just post the text, but it's so much more fun to see the actual scan.....

Anyone out there who can help a techno-retard? Any suggestions would be appreciated!

I'll be back later to update you on all the various thoughts that have been milling around the vast space between my ears (also known as my brain).....

The Cooter Report

Thanks yet again for your kindness. It really amazes me that, although I know so few of you in my "real life", you are somehow closer to me than friends that I've had for years. Your words are healing, whether you realize it or not. It's because you understand where I'm coming from-you've all been there. You've all felt the same pain, the same frustration, despair and anger. So, even though you may think that words are ineffective in this scenario-you couldn't be more wrong. Yeah, it doesn't change anything; no, I'm still without a baby in my arms, but it still helps.

So, thank you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

In other news that is directly related to my cooter, I've made it into print. Last month I was contacted by Keith Huang of the Wall Street Journal about featuring my blog in their "BlogWatch" column. He asked me some questions, I answered them. And I hadn't heard from him, so I thought that it was the end of it. Lo and behold, I get an email from him Sunday evening, letting me know that the column was coming out the next day. So, if you have yesterday's WSJ lying around, you'll find me (and Alex over at The Infertile Gourmet)-it's in the Journal Report:Technology section, last page. If anything, you'll find out my full name (hell, I might as well out myself.......nah) for shits and giggles. Seriously, though-I'm honored to be included with someone like Alex, and to even be contacted! I'll have to see if I can scan it in or something-it's pretty cool.

It was an interesting experience for me, to have a reporter contact me about this blog. In some ways, I still feel like a neophyte when it comes to the world of infertility blogging. Who the hell am I that someone from the frickin' Wall Street Journal would contact me about a feature in one of their columns? There are so many brilliant bloggers in "our" world, why pick me? Then I look at exactly how long I've been here, and I realize that I'm a crusty old veteran, in many ways. And, that was a bit shocking to me; that time has moved on (I "celebrated" my fourth anniversary as an infertile this past June), even though my infertile state has stubbornly remained the same, despite numerous attempts at the ART game. I started this blog as an emotional outlet, if you will-it was a hell of a lot cheaper than traditional therapy, and I didn't need to get either a referral from my insurance company or be limited to only 30 visits a year. I never thought that other people would actually read my blog. I never thought that I would find a sisterhood (and brotherhood-can't forget our Sperm Palace Jesters, can we?) who had the same hopes and dreams I did, and we've all shared the ups and downs of this wild ride.

And here we are, almost two years after I've started this blog. I've met some amazing people on this journey-some who have made it through the other side of infertility and are mothers (whether it be through adopting or pregnancy), and some who are still waiting for their children. I've also learned so much about myself in the process. I never thought that I could be this determined about something. I never knew that I could hurt as much, or want something so badly that it consumes just about every part of my life. Oddly enough, in a sort-of sick way I'm glad that this happened to me. What, you say, are you deranged? Are you sure that you're not still on the fertility drugs? No, really. I'm glad, because it has proven to me that I am a strong person. It's made me appreciate my husband for the special person that he is. It's shown me who my friends really are, in times of crisis-who I can rely on, and who's a "fair-weather" type of friend. And, most importantly, it's introduced me to all of you.

So, Keith Huang, thank you for giving us a spotlight. Perhaps it will help those of us who still can't find their voice in this crazy existence we call "infertility". Perhaps those people will see that they're not alone-there are thousands more out there, and we're all part of a bizarre family.

But it's a family, all the same. My family. You all rock.

BFN

It's official. Not much else to say, I guess.

Stop all medications, wait for period (which I'm sure will be such a joy to have, considering all the drugs), call tomorrow to make appointment with Dr. Pipsqueak for a follow-up.

I'm really not surprised. Yeah, I'm sad, frustrated, and feeling more alone than ever. But I'm not going to think about it right now-I can't deal with it.

It really sucked to have to tell Sean-he's working one of the NYC fashion shows today, and I had to call him to tell him. Sorry babe, my uterus sucks big donkey balls. Better luck next time.

It's time to hit the wine, brie, sushi and Valium, and have a rip-roaring time. Although, I'd rather be up the pole, but beggars can't be choosers.

Same old shit, different flies.........I guess maybe I'm just used to the failure. Or perhaps my skin is thicker, who knows. All I know is that I'm not pregnant.

Yet again.

The Day of Reckoning

It's beta day. I went in this morning for the blood draw. It was busy there today, so I had to wait awhile.

I already know it's negative, so it was just a formality. Why, you ask? Because I tested this morning, before I left. One pink line-that's all. Yeah, I caved. I wasn't going to, originally, but I wanted to know so I could have some peace of mind.

That doesn't mean that it doesn't suck any less, but that I'm more accepting of it. I kinda had the feeling that it didn't work-it wasn't any one thing, but something was telling me that the test would be negative.

Of course, the fucking FRER'r could be wrong, and they are testing at 11dp3dt, so it could be a low beta, but I doubt it-it's easier to accept that it's negative rather than giving myself false hope, at this stage.

So, I'm off in about a half-hour for my audition-I'll give another update later when I get home with all the news......

8dp3dt-To Test, Or Not To Test-That Is The Question

Well, here we are, at 8dp the transfer. I'm feeling good today. It's also a full moon tonight, which will mean that the kids at school will be off the wall (I have Killer Kenny tomorrow morning-can't wait!). Now, I'm not sure about how the moon affects cycles exactly (perhaps someone can give me the Moon Cycle 101 on that), but I'm feeling much more positive.

That, and the fact that Cat owns a candle shaped like a cooter-I LOVE you! But, people, it's not a favor from a porn party or anything, it's a fertility candle, so keep your panties on (although, I do think it's weird that the candle should burn out within three days-perhaps it's not a coincidence?). Anyone who has one of those is my hero, that's for sure!

Really, though, I seem to be a chickenshit about testing. Do I want to put myself in a shitty mood for the weekend, knowing that I'm going for a beta that is going to be negative anyway? Or, perhaps the peestick will be positive, and I'll be a nervous wreck about it all weekend, thinking "What if it ends up being a chemical? What if I miscarry again?" Plus, I have an audition on Sunday, which is beta day.....what if I get the call during the audition? That'll not be good.

So, it's difficult to open that box of peesticks and get on with it. But, as they say, curiosity killed the cat, so I'm sure I'll end up doing it as some point.

Because I'm just a glutton for punishment.

7dp3dt-Back To The Grind

It's been a week today since Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern were squirted back into the cushy little condo that I call "The Love Shack" (aka, the uterus). Only four days to go. It will probably be the four longest days in the history of womankind.

Sunday's progesterone/estradiol check showed that all is well; so now, we just wait. No dildocam though........or, as Sean called it the other day.....the "Womb Wand".

And people say that I'm the funny one.

I did buy Evil Pee Sticks. And, yes, I even "tested" one out this afternoon-nothing there yet. Of course I could feasibly say that it's waaay to early to indulge in my addiction. Or I could say that it didn't work.

I'm going with the former-it's better for morale.

Let's see, is there anything on the "obsessing over symptoms" front yet? Well, I've been exhausted for the past few days, but that could be happening because I've gone back to work after sitting on my fat ass all summer. I've had a few headaches-I had one so bad this morning that it woke me up early and I had to grab for the Tylenol. I think that it's sinus though. I did feel nauseated after lunch today (due to headache, I think). I took more Tylenol, but the queasiness got worse for a bit, then went away-I actually thought for a split second that I was going to yak during my kindergarten class (which would have traumatized them, I'm sure), but it passed. Again, probably because of headache. No sore tits, though. A little crampy feeling at times, but not painful-it feels more like when you think your period is on it's way, but you know it's not time yet. What a mind fuck.

I do have to say that one really good "side-effect" of the meds is the lovely clearing of my skin-I haven't had my skin look this good in AGES! I feel sexy........now, if only big, bloated wobbly bellies were considered sexy, I'd be a veritable goddess of perfection....*snigger*

I've decided that I'm going to test-as to when I'll start, I'm not sure yet. I bought a box of tests that had a freebie in it, so I've now got three tests. I'm sort of scared to test, though. The last time I tested for a FET, I got a positive, and then later all hell broke loose. In some ways, I don't want to know. But, in another way, I want to at least prepare myself if it is negative, so as not to put Hope into that chair the morning of the beta blood draw. I don't need her ass in there if I'm not.....well, you know the word. I won't say it here....the word in the infertility world is like saying "MacBeth" in a theater (or, as we learned to say, the "Scottish Play")-just bad luck all around.

I'm starting to go a little stir-crazy with this wait. The jury is still out as to whether this worked or not-I just can't "tell" from my body right now, since it's hopped up with hormones. Just frustrating.

Time to take a catnap before the Sean-a-nator gets home (sans dinner tonight--I'm too beat to cook). I'll try to come back again with some sort of thing.....perhaps a 100 Things You'd Like To Know About Me?

Not that I think anyone gives a rat's ass about my life, but perhaps it will help in distracting me for........hopefully......four more days.

Four days.

September Morn......

I woke up this morning to the strains of my lovely husband singing the opening phrase of "September Morn".

I promptly started to whine and pull the covers over my head.

September 1st. Back to work. School "officially" starts on the 5th, but our contract requires that we go in the day before the kids start.

Blech.

I walked into school this morning (my "crap school"-we had to report to what our normally scheduled Friday school would be), and it was like I hadn't left.........and it wasn't a good thing.

All the stress and aggravation and bullshit dropped down from the ceiling, where it's been hibernating since June, and decided to get a piggyback ride on me. I hadn't realized until that moment that I SO didn't want to go back. I wasn't ready. I'm not ready for the politics and nepotism and crap. I had to actually take a moment to center myself and de-stress, or else I'd be a wreck.

It's so hard to explain everything I find wrong with where I am-there's so much that plays into it, and plus I have no idea who the hell reads this (besides my Barren Bitches and Stirrup Queens), so I don't want to get dooced. Suffice it to say that this district is rife with gladhanding and nepotism, and if you don't kiss ass, you don't get ahead. Top that off with administration who will figuratively throw you under the bus rather than defend you, in order to protect their own agenda.

Yeah, I do know that the time is coming where I need to make the decision to stay or move on. I would ideally want to finish my Master's Degree in Education before I leave (to be more marketable), but I still have halfway to go. I'd also want to start my Masters in Music, but that could wait until I'd move districts. I need to find a place where I feel challenged and valued, where I can try new things (or have the opportunity to). I don't want to be in a place where "if you don't cause problems, you're okay" is the mantra.

Of course, I get the niggling idea in the back of my head that it would also be wonderful to get pregnant this time around, go on maternity and child-rearing leave and.....well......not go back for awhile. Unfortunately, it's not a realistic thought, due to finances. Plus, we want to eventually move, and we can't do that on only one salary. But, I did fantasize a bit about how we could manage it.....I could cantor and maybe teach piano and voice privately, I wouldn't have to worry about benefits because of Sean's benefits, blah blah blah. I do know that it's just a dream, but maybe if I hit the lottery..........yah, right.

So, today is 2dp3dt. Apparently, the embryos (named Rosenkrantz and Guildenstern) could implant (should they decide to) from anytime today onward. I don't feel any differently, other than being tired and nauseated, but that's from the Estrace and PIO (and the lovely bruises on my tush). I am honestly trying not to think about what's going on inside the ute right now. I'm trying not to obsess or stress, and so far, it's been working. Once we get to next week, then that's another story.

I have to find something to fill the time........

What Would You Do? *Updated*

I have a slight dilemma.

No, it's nothing serious, really-no spotting, no pain. In fact, I feel pretty frickin' good right now.

It's about whether or not I should cancel a twatotologist appointment.

I called for an appointment for my annual exam and pap smear way back at the beginning of July, and the first available appointment was for Tuesday, September 5th. Yeah, it sucks, doesn't it? It doesn't help that my twato is in a fairly busy practice, and he goes on vacation for two weeks in August. Oh, well.

Anyway, I made the appointment thinking that we'd have done this FET cycle already. I didn't figure that we'd be doing a syntethic cycle, or that it would've taken as long as it did. Now that we're in the (sort-of) two-week wait, I'm apprehensive about having him poking around down there before I know whether it worked or not. I called Big Important Clinic and spoke with Nurse Blondie, and she said that she didn't see any reason why I shouldn't be able to have a pap and exam, and that it shouldn't be detrimental But, I'm still unsure.

My instinct says to reschedule. Perhaps that's being overcautious, but I'd rather be that than too lax. And, I have to do it either today or tomorrow morning, as they require 24 hours notice for cancellations (and with it being a holiday weekend, I can't call on Monday).

So, what would YOU do?

--------------------------------------------------------------- *updated*

Thanks for the replies and for reassuring me that I'm not being paranoid. Twato's appt was duly cancelled this afternoon and rescheduled for the end of the month. Hopefully, though, it will become an OB appt.......

Thanks again-you guys rock!

The Deed Is Done

Everything went well.

There were 5 embryos thawed. Out of the five, two made it-one 7-celled and one 5-celled (which was dividing right then and there). So they did Assisted Hatching and transferred the two in. It was pretty cool to watch, actually-the embryologist came out and checked my wristband and info, then told me that she put the monitor on so I could watch her load them into the catheter. The nurses pointed out on the screen where they were, and they were so tiny. We had to repeat it as one of the embryos didn't come out of the catheter and they had to redo it-the nurses and RE joked that it "must be a boy-the boys always do that". Then they wheeled me out, I rested for 20 minutes, peed like a racehorse, dressed and went home.

I go in for a progesterone check on Sunday, then the beta will be on Sunday, September 10th. The day before Sean's birthday. I won't try to read into that one....

So, that's it-I'm gonna hang out on the couch for the rest of the day, and just wait....

Oh, yeah........we were also given a picture of them-I'll post them tomorrow (along with their "names").

Back to the couch-rest......

Shit, Or Get Off The Pot

Well, my friends, it's that time. Again. D-day is just about here. In about 15 hours I'll be assuming the position and will hopefully have a couple of good embryos transferred.

As of today, lining is at 9mm-good enough. I was kind of wishing that it would be at 10 by now, but hey-9 is good. The RE seems happy with it, so I guess I should be too.

I had my PIO shot tonight-had to go to M's house, as she wasn't feeling too well. Although I did have to venture out in the crappiest weather ever, there was a benefit-I've now got a shiny new Batman adhesive firmly attached to my right ass-cheek (courtesy of J, who wanted to "help"). Shit, if I didn't have to shower tomorrow, I'd leave it on to make the nurses laugh. Should've got an extra one......

I've got my big-ass bottle of water at the ready, a reminder to not wear any fragrances (ewww.....) and the poonanny will be checked for neatness in honor of the RE's arrival with the Catheter of Hopes and Dreams.

Thanks for the well-wishes (and D2 fans-YAH!)-really, they mean a lot to me right now. More than I could ever express with the paltry written word. I'm having a hard time right now-I'm going back and forth between "I really think this will work this time" to "Oh, boy-you're SO fucked". I'm trying not to jinx myself, but.........well, you all know what it's like to let that crooked auld sow called Hope in. I don't want to set myself up for disappointment. Or expect too much-I always get the shaft on that one (and it's not the "shaft" that we all want, unfortunately).

I'll be back tomorrow to update afterwards with all the juicy details. You're all the best, truly-I wouldn't know where I'd be without you all out there in Bloglandia.

Let the Two Week Wait Begin........

(Waiting For The) Nightboat....

The call came. You know.............the CALL.

August 30th, 1:30pm-be at outpatient clinic with a big-ass bottle of water.

Transfer will be at 2:30pm. No word on the embryos yet-we won't hear anything until Wednesday afternoon, which scares the shit out of me, but since it's nothing I can control I refuse to dwell too long over it.

I go for a pre-transfer wanding and bloodletting tomorrow morning, and then.......I wait.

Ergh........

If you could name the artist of the above song title, you're my NBF (New Best Friend).....

Cravings.......Nothing More Than Cravings......

I've been having some food issues lately. I go back and forth between not being that hungry to being ravenous-like I'll rip your arm off if I don't get food, STAT.

That, and the.......uh.....digestive issues that are cropping up. Don't want to offend anyone's delicate sensibilities, but suffice it to say that most times, after I eat, the need to use the bathroom overrides any other activity. Which sucks when you're in public. Need I say more?

I know that it's the Estrace talking. I checked with Dr. Google, and it's all part of the side effects. But, I'm trying to eat healthy foods, and smaller meals more times during the day (even when I'm not hungry, which isn't the best feeling), so I don't get that feeling. I'm also really REALLY trying to not pay attention to the cravings, or otherwise I'd become a house.

Of course, I should have been paying more attention last night when I asked Sean to go out and get me a Reese's ice cream sundae from Friendly's. Complete with peanut-butter and fudge sauce, whipped cream and cherry. And when I finished the whole thing. Oh, did I mention that I'm lactose-intolerant, and didn't take anything beforehand? Yeah. You can probably envision the rest of THAT scenario.

Just wait until we add PIO to the cocktail-that's when the REAL fun begins.

Sean says that it's good practice for him when (oh, he's so positive!) I'm the P-word. And, he's been a trooper, I'll give him that.

Let's hope that he'll have lots of time for practicing. About 9 months of it.

Seven Days

It reminds me of that movie "The Ring", where they get the phone call and you hear (think scary whisper):

".........seven days........."

and then the phone disconnects.

Seven days until the transfer of some (hopefully) good embryos.  I find out in 5 days how many embryos they thawed and the status of them. 

I've decided that, at this point, there's nothing that I can do.  Things are either going to work, or they're not.  And that makes me feel better.

Seven days.

A Sigh of Relief...At Least, A Little One

I spoke with Nurse Blondie this morning over the phone about my FET dates. She reassured me of the following:

1. My lining is at 8mm, which is good for transfer.
2. The reason for the 8/30 transfer date is not because my uterus is a shitstorm or my ovary is playing Hide the Salami, but simply because they wanted to make sure that Dr. Pipsqueak was the one doing the transfer, instead of the RE on call for the week.
3. They don't need to see me this week, so I don't have to go in for monitoring until the 29th.

So I'm breathing a small sigh of relief. Plus, Blondie (I love her, btw!) assured me that, although my lining is good for transfer, another week on the meds will only make it better-she's predicting 10mm by transfer (I should have wagered a bet, but hell.....I'm piss poor right now).

As for school starting-eh. I'm feeling "eh" about everything. I still haven't gotten jack shit from my department head about my schedule or even if I'm posted in the same schools this year. Since we start soon, perhaps that would be nice, huh? It would be helpful to have some notice if I have to move crap from one school to another. But, I refuse to stress about it. I have to be as relaxed as possible those first two weeks of school, no matter what.

I have no choice not to. The alternative is just not acceptable to me.

S and The Incredibly Annoying Perpetual Synthetic Cycle

I had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn this morning for monitoring-I was out of the house at 6am, and at the office by 6:30. Needless to say, I am wiped out right now, and not in the best mental state to write this.

When am I ever in the "right" mental state? Yeah, you get the point.

Here are the three reasons I'm not getting a good feeling about the outcome of this FET (although, if I'm wrong I'll gladly eat my words, with a side of sarcasm):

When I got in this morning there was a minor calamity going on. Apparently, the computer system in the department went down, so everything had to be done longhand, which took forever. When the vampire blood-sucking wildebeast from hell lovely phlebotomist took my liquid gold sample
from my arm, she had to move the needle because the flow of blood stopped. Uh....can you say holymotherfuckingshitfuckingwhorethatHURTS! Yeah, I knew ya could....

Then, during my date with the Uterine Lurve Wand, the RE (not Dr. Pipsqueak this time, it's Dr. Cheery) finds a big cyst on the left side of my ovary-a large dark mass. She doesn't seem concerned though, as she feels it's a leftover corpeus luteum cyst from last cycle (she said that the telltale sign is the ragged edges of the cyst). Although why she didn't see that before today is unnerving and freaking me out, but okay, I'll go with it...

So, off I go to work (it's my weekend to sing). Whilst I'm at work, nice nursey (not Blondie) calls, and
Sean takes the message as to what I need to do. Here it is:

*This week, stay on the same dosages (.05 IU Lupron, 2 tabs Estrace 3x daily)
*8/27-Stop Lupron, start PIO injections, Doryx and Medrol (I'm assuming that they'll start thawing too)
*8/28-Wait for phonecall from office as to time of transfer
*8/29-Go in for morning monitoring
*8/30-Transfer day, time TBD

Now, there's nothing said here as to whether or not I need to come in this week for monitoring, which baffles me, so I have to call Nurse Blondie in the morning to see what the deal is.

So, the transfer date is the 30th-I go back to school on September 1st-Yah, let's have the 2ww during the first two weeks of school.......sweet........

The whole point of doing a FET in the summer was so that I could be stress free! What is taking so fucking long? I feel like I've been on the drugs for months now-I've been on the Lupron since August 1st, and the Estrace since the 7th (13 days now)-shouldn't that have been enough?? ARRGH!

I guess that technically I'm on day 13 of this cycle, since I had a "period" (it's really withdrawal bleeding, but hey, let's not get hung up on semantics), so I can't complain that much, but it feels like fucking forever (I started the BCP's back on July 23rd). I'm starting to experience more of the side effects now-I feel more agitated, and less likely to have patience. That should be fun during the first two weeks of school, right? Especially when I teach my 6 kindergarten classes, when they're all freaking out and crying.........yeah, that should be real fun. Can't wait.

With the way I'm feeling right now, I'd rather stick a sharpened #2 pencil in my eye. Or, someone else's. I'm not going to discriminate.

Well, I've got a tentative transfer date-I should be happy, right? Then why do I think I am seriously screwed? I can feel it, creeping up on me, like a fungus. I'm trying to be positive, but it's getting really difficult.

Nesting, In More Ways Than One

Lining check, as of yesterday-7mm. Estrace dose upped from 2 pills twice daily to two pills three times daily. I go back in on Sunday morning for another date with the Wand.

They're tentatively telling me that the transfer will be sometime next week, but I'll have more info on Sunday as to an exact date.

As for side effects, they're not too bad. Sometimes I feel a little queasy or dizzy-more so in the past day or so, since the dose is upped-and I'm bloated and tired. No wacky mood swings though, which is a treat. Oh, yeah, and I'm breaking out like a fifteen-year old, which is always a joy. Remind me to take out my leg-warmers and stirrup stretch-pants so I can truly look the part.

It's one of the reasons that I'm looking forward to the progesterone. It makes my skin and hair look FAB. Sounds sick, doesn't it? Looking forward to getting my ass jabbed with a two inch needle so I can have nice skin and hair. I call it a fringe benefit, thankyouverymuch.

So, Dr. G seems pleased with the progress. I've never done a medicated FET before, and my last FET they didn't really go into detail about lining-they were more preoccupied with whether or not I ovulated, so I'm not sure that if the lining is good for being on Estrace for nine days (now ten). We'll find out soon enough.

---------------------------------------------------------------
I've got two weeks reprieve until the prepping for school starts. I'll have to go back and set everything up, get class listings, open supplies, blah blah blah. Although, this year will be interesting, since I'll be doing this post-transfer, and can't lift anything heavy. So, it will be a little limiting-depending on my schedule (which I still don't have yet), I'll have to set up one school more than the other, since I travel and am never in the same place. Yuck.

I was hoping, when we started this FET, that I'd be already post-beta by the time school began, but it is quickly becoming a pipe dream-in fact, beta day looks to be around the first week of school. I didn't want to have to be traveling back and forth to the clinic those first few weeks, since it will be hectic (especially because I'll have a new principal-again-in one of my postings), but since I can't control it, I won't worry too much about it. There's nothing I can do to change it.

I am sort-of ready to go back. Not ready for the stress, the nasty kids, the teachers that treat me like crap or the lack of administrative support-I'm never ready for that. But, I've made an educational resolution to really try and not let those things fill my brain and make me mental. Teaching can be stressful enough, and, should this FET work, I want to be as zen as possible.

Also, the odd thought of "perhaps I won't be there for the entire year" helps with that resolution. Which I push out of my head as soon as it flies in there. Don't want to hope, just yet-it's too early for that.

Busy Busy Beaver

Yes, I'm still alive. We were busy this weekend-my parents moved to the Jersey Shore and Sean and I went to help with the unpacking. I do have to say that it was nice to sleep at home last night!

I had a monitoring appointment on Friday, before I left for the Shore. Dr. G did the wanding and found that my lining was a little thin, and there was fluid in my uterus-wtf? So she asked me if I had any bleeding, and I said I did, but it stopped two days before. Turns out that there was a blood clot in there that was keeping everything else from voiding, and she had to get a speculum and catheter suck the fluid out-yummy! But, she did up my dose of Estrace, so that's what is important, right?

I'm starting to feel a bit more of the side effects of the Estrace-bloating, a little dizziness and some queasiness-that I'm sure that will increase when the dose is upped again. I just feel like a fat mess right now, like everything is spreading out. I'm not even really hungry, either. I go back tomorrow again, so hopefully we'll find out if there's a projected transfer date.

Grow lining, grow! Momma needs to transfer some totsicles in there!!!

Why I Know That My Husband Is Messed Up In The Head

Here we are, on a Monday evening, channel-surfing, and come across a rerun of "Supernanny"-you know, the usual array of scary, undisciplined children and harrassed parents begging for someone to teach them how to handle their "unruly" children.

This week's episode is a single-mother with 5 kids-a girl and two sets of twin boys......all demon spawn. I actually feel bad for this woman. She's divorced, apparently raising these kids all by herself, and she's also going back to school to get her teaching certificate. She's also totally overwhelmed and her kids are all acting out, physically and emotionally.

So, Supernanny puts out the classic time-out area, complete with cushions, for children who don't abide by the house rules, and creatively calls it the "Thinking Pond"; so as to have the children ponder their actions and be able to cool off.

My lovely Sean, watching the debacle unfold where the mother, on her "own" (with Supernanny watching on closed-circuit TV) with her kids, is wrestling her hissing, spitting spawn onto the
cushions after they try beating the crap out her, says this Pearl of Wisdom:

"You know, if they were my kids, I wouldn't call it the 'Thinking Pond'.......I'd get a beat-up old refrigerator box, open it up, put it in the corner with a stool in it and call it the 'Shitty Shack'".

This, friends, is the man I want to raise children with. And yes-I still want to, despite the.....uh...."creative parenting ideas". Go figure.

I must be nuts.

Props, and Hooray for Estrace!

I have officially been "cleared". I took my first Estrace tablet about two hours ago, with another one scheduled for later tonight. I'm on my way, people. And about bloody time, too.

As for my last post/webslap-that was WAY overdue, in my opinion. That was for every person who gave me retarted assvice, for every Fertile who didn't even try to understand. It was four years in the making, and, although it sucks to have to do it, it was necessary and cleansing, emotionally. So, I'm not sorry that I did it. It was done for all of us, really. It was the proverbial letting off of steam, in print form. And I feel a hell of a lot more centered and emotionally grounded now.

But, words cannot express how much you guys fuckin' ROCK out there in Bloglandia. I meant what I said-I AM proud to be a Barren Bitch and to be a part of this community. That's not to say that we all wish that we never had to be in our collective situations, or that we don't want to be "different" from other women; but, no matter how we ultimately have our children (or whether we have them at all), it is infertility that is a part of our being-like it, or not.

I've found more support here than within my own family and circle of friends. And it's a community of people that I've never physically met (with the exception of a few of you). It's just amazing how something like infertility (or any issue, really) can cause you to bond with women around the world, withough ever setting foot in front of each other. Just amazing.

Thank you, all of you-it's nice to know that you've got my back. And, know that I'll always have yours, no matter what.