Tuesday, February 28, 2006

The Best Line EVER on Television-or, the New Word of the Day

Grey's Anatomy, Season 2; "As We Know It" (otherwise known as the second part of the "Code Black" episode)

Dr. Bailey, to George, as he was watching Bailey give birth:

"O'Malley.............stop LOOKING at my Va-jay-jay!"

Sweet-A new poonanny word. I watched Oprah this afternoon, and they replayed that clip and I peed my pants all over again-Shonda Rimes is fucking brilliant.

So, here's a challenge for you out there:

Try to use the word "va-jay-jay" in a sentence tomorrow. It's just too fucking funny not to.

Monday, February 27, 2006

Am I A Heartless Bitch.....

Or am I the only person who gets pissed off at those "courtesy parking" spaces for the pregnant/mommies at the front of supermarkets?

I park there anyway-screw 'em. I don't see "infertile parking" at clinics or labs.

Sorry for the rant (and, if your a pregger/mommy, don't take offense-it's just the principle of it).

Fuck it, I'm just bitter-I admit it.

Okay, now I feel better....

The Entertainer

Sean and I went to see Billy Joel Saturday night at Madison Square Garden. I've seen him once before, while in college (also at the Garden), and I've forgotten just how fucking brilliant he is.

He did not play one crappy song-not one. He is certainly worth every penny that was shelled out. It was even better, considering the tickets were a Christmas gift from my brother, also known as "Mr. Mogul" or "APK (Alex P. Keaton, from Family Ties)-in-Training" around our house. My brother works for a huge pharmaceutical company in NJ, one of the largest corporations in the state (it begins with a "J"), in some managerial capacity. He makes shitloads of money-has the Beemer X5, has a tailor, gives lavish gifts for birthdays and holidays......you know the type I mean.

Ewww......can you tell that my brother and I are total opposites? Yeah, like night and day. Hey, it's not like I'm not a label whore, but I'm perfectly happy shopping at Marshalls for labels. Not him. But, I digress....

Yesterday we had mass, then I went to a baptism for C's baby (the woman in choir who sits next to me, who just had her fifth child). She was so appreciative that we were there (me and E and her husband)-she knew that it was hard for me to be there, so it made me feel good.

Haven't done anything about the sex thing yet (although I have noted the suggestions!!). It would be nice if Sean was actually home more often to do something about it, but he's at crunch time for the two high school musicals that he's building (they both open in two weeks), so he's been a miserable crankpot. Hopefully once his schedule lightens up we'll try the horizontal mambo again.........watch, I'll end up having that old whore AF show up........fucking bitch........

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Deep Thoughts

Here's something that's been on mind, that I've been dying to bring up to everyone out there, but didn't have the cojones until now.


Or, lack of.

Or..............The effect of infertility on your sex life.

Let's face it, sex becomes a chore when you're "fertiley challenged". You know, the charting/temping/checking your poonanny to see if your cervical mucus is the perfect stretchiness for those little spermies to swim. Then, annoying the hell out of your spouse/partner for sex. More often than not, resulting in the "I'm not a machine" argument. Not fun, but means to an end.

Then, you move on to Advanced Methods of Reproduction-jacking off into a cup, washing sperm for only the "best" ones (like it's a popularity contest for sperm), legs propped up, and your RE seeing more of your intimate parts than your own husband. Then, of course (Murphy's Law being what it is), they want sex ALL THE TIME, and you can't be bothered. Between the RE, wand monkey and nurses looking at your choch, you can't deal with having anyone else being invited to the Poonanny Party. And, that's only the beginning.

Let's not talk about being poked and prodded, shooting yourself up several times a day with drugs that make you feel insane and horny at the same time, watching your abdomen distend with follicles, trying to have sex but it's too damn uncomfortable so you just give up. You're distracted, self-absorbed with the end result of IVF. And, then the egg retrieval, being so sore you can't roll over in bed without feeling like your ovaries are going to explode, the waiting on pins and needles for fertilization reports, embryo quality, then the stress of the embryo transfer, daily shots in the ass with a needle the thickness of a dart, and the lovely "2 week wait", which is really 16 days, just because clinics are sadists. And, OF COURSE, there is to be no lovin' after ET, just to be safe.

Then, the beta and letdown-not pregnant, again. You just want to curl up in a ball and die. You're miserable and fat, due to the drugs. You feel OH SO SEXY.

You feel like, hell, what's the point? Why bother, when it's not resulting in conception? Of course, it doesn't help that Catholicism reinforces the "sex resulting in procreation" ideal. You don't feel attractive, physically and psychologically. You feel like your partner can't possibly find you attractive, especially since you're apparently as barren as the Sahara Desert. Yet, they do. And, it's a mystery to you.

So, how do you deal with it? Needless to say, my libido is shot. It's not that I don't find my husband sexy and attractive, because he's a damn hot man (and you can ask around, he is a babe). But, I'd rather sleep than take off all of my clothes and watch my fat jiggle around, to be honest. Does that make me a bad person? Perhaps.

I do have to say, Sean is a saint. He never pushes me. He's concerned, yes (since he's a red-blooded normal American man), but he's been kind about the issue. And, it's not to say that there hasn't been any sex, because there has. But, it isn't nearly as much as even a year ago, when we started this second chapter in our lives, titled "IVF Sucks Big Moose Balls". At least we were getting some, even though it was fraught with stress and pain and disappointment. So, to be honest, Pre-IVF sex wasn't that great either-it was a job, a chore that had to be fit in between the grocery shopping, laundry and cleaning the toilet.

Here's my question-how can this be fixed? Can it be fixed? I know that it's really my problem, in the sense that it's my perception of my body as "sexual object of desire" vs. "incubator". For the past three years and nine months, the perception of the latter has been enforced by numerous medical professionals, and the former had to be mentally put away in a cupboard. I need to be able to break the lock of the cupboard and dust that off.

Am I the only one who thinks like this, or is this normal? I' m going to assume that I'm not alone, that other people have experienced that infertility not only destroys the ability to create and nourish life, but it also destroys the intimacy of physical contact. It's another casualty of this war, and it's one that isn't often verbalized-and I'm curious to see what you out there in Blog Land think.

Just my deep thought for the evening.

"FYJ" is much better than "OM"

Wow, I feel so much better. Thanks for letting me see that I'm not the only one, and for making sure that I didn't start the pity party. Anyways, I didn't have a new outfit, so it's good I didn't end up in that bad place........I'm a firm believer that one must dress nicely when being committed.

I did do a few more "FYJ's" (Fuck You Jobu's) the past couple of days at the insensitives, though, and I felt great afterwards! When in doubt, just mutter "FYJ" under your breath about a couple of hundred times-it's as good as chanting during meditation, seriously.

Tomorrow I get to have a professional day-yay! It's the annual Music Educator's state conference, in East Brunswick. I usually go on Friday, take a shitload of seminars and then meet my friend M for dinner afterwards. But, alas, not this year-she's working and Sean, in his infinite wisdom, decided to schedule our tax return appointment for 7:30 that evening. Fucker. Of course, he's not even going, since he has to work, so it's me going solo. Hopefully a nice, fat refund will magically erase the inconvenience from my mind. Mama needs a new pair of shoes!

I also finally got my records in the mail, and they're a very interesting read. Of course, if I knew half of what they really say, it would be a bestseller. I have to make myself a few copies and then, it's time to make the appointment for the second opinion. I really don't think that they're going to tell me anything that I haven't heard before, but perhaps a different perspective will help. I'm just so damn tired of waiting-I was never good at it.

In other news, unrelated to the state of my reproductive organs, Boo-Boo Baby Bite Face has a name!! Go over to Shelli's blog and check it out.

I'll be back later-time to decide on supper-Chinese, or Italian? *sigh*-the choices never cease!

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

Fuck you, Jobu!

I'm pissed now, Jobu. Look, I go to you. I stick up for you. You no help me now, I say, fuck you, Jobu. I do it myself.
-Pedro Cerrano (played by Dennis Haysbert, aka the Allstate spokesman), Major League

That has to be the best line in Major League. The movie is, in general, okay (besides the haircuts and the 80's clothes, that's laughable enough), but Pedro Cerrano is my favorite character. Sean and I keep telling each other that we should have named Peachy "Jobu" because who the hell would name a cat that?? Too bad it ain't a saint's name, huh? It would make a hell of a middle name for a kid.....heh. Whenever we think that the other is getting weird/unreasonable/out of hand, we just yell "Fuck you, Jobu!" to break the tension. It makes our house pretty entertaining. Perhaps that's why the neighbors don't talk to us very much.

Jobu is pretty relevant to me right now, because lately I just want to say a special "fuck you" to the whole world. I'm tired of waiting for things to happen to me-it's time to do it on my own. Unfortunately, it sounds easier than it actually is. And, it's not just in the context of infertility. My job, although I love it, is stressful, especially at one of my schools, where discipline from administration is a dirty joke amongst the faculty. If I even posted one-tenth of what goes on there, you wouldn't believe it (and, I won't, because you never know who's reading), but, trust me to say that it's pretty bad sometimes. Of course, I'm sure that the stress is not exactly conducive to conceiving a child, but hey, if I didn't have a job there won't be a way to feed/clothe/medicate (because, given who its parents would be, you'd need to hedge your bets) said hypothetical child. You know, hierarchy of needs and all that. Pretty important.

But, it's getting more and more difficult for me to stay afloat lately. I'm trying to do that by focusing on others rather than myself, because I feel that if I focus on myself I'll end up curled in the fetal position rocking back and forth with my thumb in my mouth in a corner of the living room, and that's not good. Lately I've been feeling like that kid who's picked last for kickball in P.E. class-that everyone else is getting what they want, and I'm still wishing to be that first kid who is picked and get the status associated with it-being number one.

I just feel so alone sometimes. Everyone (and I mean just about everyone, I'm not being a drama-queen) has their babies or are pregnant. On my TTC buddy group through Fertility Family, I, and another girl, are the only ones left-everyone else has moved on to the "mommy" board. I have nothing in common with pregnant women or mommies. And, the "insensitives" that I talked about earlier don't get it either. So, where do I belong? It seems like I'm destined for limbo, at least for now.

So, up yours, Jobu! You suck!

Monday, February 20, 2006


Sean I went yesterday to Shelli's to meet my new niece, a.k.a. "Boo-Boo Baby Bite-Face"........or, at least until the end of the week, when we'll hear her name for the first time, according to Jewish tradition. She is AWESOME-just adorable. Shelli and Narda are elated. Sleep-deprived, but still, elated.

It was nice to be there. That doesn't mean to say that it was easy to be there, but it was nice. But, I can say that without any guilt, because I know that Shelli (as well as others who struggle with infertility) "gets it". She even said to me, at one point, that she knew how it must be difficult to be around a baby. And, to an extent, it was. But, it wasn't for my own sake-the hardest part wasn't seeing Shelli or Narda cuddling, feeding, or changing her; it was seeing my own husband holding a baby in his arms and realizing that there is a chance that he will never get to hold a child of ours like that. And, it was like a knife being shoved in my heart.

I just get so frustrated sometimes. Please don't misunderstand me-I am so happy for my infertile girls when they finally get pregnant and make it through the minefield of pregnancy with their babies in tow (adopted or not, it's still the same). I might even be happier for them than a friend who had an "oops" pregnancy or one who wasn't trying for long, because I know that they went through hell and back for their baby.

It also pisses me off that there are some people, some of whom are my closest friends (however, they also didn't have IF problems) who don't "get it". Case in point: I went to dinner tonight with my friend M, to a local pizza/Italian joint. She told me that she asked another friend to come along, who is hugely pregnant. This friend had an "oops" pregnancy and initially wasn't happy about it, because she didn't want to have children, which of course pissed me off. M tells me that she asked her, but that she "probably wouldn't come along". Well, she did, and I didn't know for sure until right before I got to the restaurant. So, now I get to spend dinner listening to two women comparing pregnancy issues, and not be able to join in on the conversation. What fun, right? Well, at least the bread was good-I probably ate half a loaf listening to the flatulence issue alone. Now, do you think that M even deigned to consider that perhaps being around a pregnant woman who didn't want a baby might bother me? Nope. Perhaps it's the infertility mindset to be overly sensitive, but come ON!

But still, every time I see a baby, pregnant woman, or have to endure this insensitivity, a little part of me still dies inside, because I begin to doubt that this will ever happen for me. That it won't be "my turn". That all these doctor's appointments, surgeries, second opinions won't mean shit if I can't get pregnant and carry a child to term. That these things are a sign from God that motherhood isn't meant for me, and I will end up childless. And it's sad and frightening and unimaginable.

It sucks. Unfortunately, it seems, at least for the time being, to be my cross to bear. But it's getting heavier and heavier, and at times I feel that it's too much for me to hold. So, when will my burden be lifted off my shoulders?

It's a question that, unfortunately, has no answer right now. And, I hate that.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Welcome, Baby Girl!

I just got off the phone with Shelli, from Hydrangeas Are Pretty, and they're basking in the glow of their baby daughter. What a cutie!

So, if you get a chance, go over and give her a shout-out (there's a pic up on the site, and she's absolutely adorable!). I can't wait to finally meet her (and spoil the hell out of her-what are aunties for, right?).

I can't even put into words how happy I am-may you two be blessed with happiness!

Tuesday, February 14, 2006


Sean just came home about twenty minutes ago (which was a surprise in of itself, since he was supposed to work late) and said the following to me:

"Hey babe-a............Happy V.D."

V.D.-I LOVE it. It puts the whole holiday into perspective, doesn't it?

And then I sent him out to get a pizza. Because that's what this day's supposed to be about, isn't it? Dinner and a, well........you get the idea.


The "Club"

I had an unexpected visitor today (and no, it's not an eggie-GAHHAHAHA! Sorry, had to insert that-couldn't help it). A former colleague of mine, who was RIF'd last year (RIF stands for Reduction In Force, which pretty much mean laid off, or, in the gentile manner of the British, "made redundant"-God, I love that!) came to visit after school. She had a miscarriage last year, at the end of the school year at around 8 weeks. We kind of lost touch after that-I had heard that she was going back to school to become a Reading Specialist-but she's a great person. Really funny, a Harry Potter freak like me-just a cool person.

So, after I give her a big hug, she says to me "Now I know what you've gone through". She told me that, two weeks ago, she miscarried again. She went in for her second ultrasound and they couldn't find a heartbeat, and they scheduled a D&C. She was also referred to an RE to see what's going on. The funny thing was who she was referred to-Dr. VEST!! Yup. But, her husband's insurance isn't taken by the office, so she was looking around for someone else. We talked about different clinics and the "infertility sucks ass and it's shitty" conversation, and I gave her my cell and home phone numbers and told her to call me ANY time, and that I know how hard it is to talk about this with people who don't "get it". And, she said that she was glad that she saw me (and that she came to school that day specifically to see me) and that she felt a little better already.

It's so sad, really. You don't ever want to wish this on anyone. Especially when you've got personal experience with it. But, it helps that there's someone out there who, well, just KNOWS. I was lucky, when I began this journey, to have a wonderful group on women to share my fears and frustration with (and still know). I'm also lucky that I've found blogging my experiences helpful-it's led me to meeting some amazing women. But, I also realized today that not everyone is as lucky as I am. And, it felt good to be on the other side of that, to help someone else out.

So, Carrie, welcome to the "club". Although it is nice to see you, please take no offense at the next statement- I hope your stay here is short.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

I Guess It Is!

Got a call from the twato's office-the ultrasound was clear! YAY!

Of course, I haven't had any pain since yesterday, so it's probably a follie growing.....

Cool. One less thing to worry about!

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Is No News Good News?

I haven't heard yet from the twato's office about yesterday's wanding festivities. It usually takes about 24 hours for them to get the results, so perhaps I'll hear back tomorrow.

The pain is still there, although it's not as fierce. Perhaps it's just pre-o pains.

The wanding was pretty funny, though. The Wand Monkey told me that my bladder was too full (wtf?) and I had to, ahem, "evacuate slightly" so my uterus wasn't so squashed. I actually had to go into the potty and pee for about 5 seconds, then stop the flow. It was definitely a lesson in self control, let me tell you. Unfortunately, even after that, it was apparently still too full. How that happened when I drank the requisite 40 oz of water at the appropriate time is beyond me, but whatever. Just call me "Princess Tiny Bladder", I guess.

The other slightly cool yet disturbing thing that happened is that the Wand Monkey, during the dildocam portion of the exam, turned on the sound at one point and I hear this thumping. I almost sat up because I had no idea what it was (and yes, the thought ran through my head that it was a baby's heartbeat), but she told me that it was the sound of the blood running through my ovaries. She seemed to listen to both sides, so whether or not she saw anything is another story. But, it was kinda creepy to hear, nonetheless.

So, there you have it. Once I hear more, I'll post an update.


Monday, February 06, 2006

Hooray for the Dildocam!

Apparently, the nurse/practitioner felt "something" on my right side, so she wrote out a prescription for a dildocam. I go tomorrow afternoon, 5:30pm.

I like this gal-really nice, put me at ease right away. My twato did a good thing when he hired her.

I also got a 'script for Anaprox to help with the pain. And yeah, ever since I got prodded it hurts even more-fun fun fun.

She seems to think that it "could" be a small cyst, compounded with the fact that I should ovulate within a week or so. We'll know by Wednesday, one way or another.

Achy Breaky Pelvis (Redux)

Okay, in one of my posts from last week I relayed the lovely information about my achy breaky pelvis. I thought that the pain would go away once lovely AF decided to make her monthly visit.

Wrong. The pain is still there. In fact, it's gotten bad enough that yesterday I had to take Tylenol with codeine. And, I hate taking that crap-it makes me feel weird and I have fucked-up dreams.

Sean is (understandibly) upset by this latest development, and by the fact that I wasn't about to call a medical professional about it, aside from my mother. You know how it is-once you become an IF patient (or, a patient for any medical condition, really) and are there so often that you're basically setting up house in your doctor's office, you're not about to voluntarily go back. But, he is forcing me to call my regular twatotologist this morning to see what's up. So, now I have to wait until the office opens to call and speak to someone, and probably drive over there.

I'd be lying if I said that I'm not worried-obviously, I should not be having pain in the ovarian region, especially if I'm not ovulating (I'm only on cycle day 8). I have a sneaking suspicion that there might be a cyst in there-apparently, Dr. Google tells me that it's quite common to get them when you've used fertility drugs. Hopefully it isn't something more-like an inflamed tube (it's the side where the hydrosalpinx tube is)........that would REALLY suck, because you know that it would have to be snipped out ASAP, which isn't in the plan for another four months or so.

I've learned, however, that this lovely disease I call infertility isn't actually "into" planning. Why should this situation be any different?

Thursday, February 02, 2006

Go On, Share the Love

Just wanted to send a hearty congrats to Shelli-she and her partner Narda are going to be proud mommies to a baby girl (my new niece*) in two weeks!

I've known them both for a while now-Shelli and I (along with Cat) were in a buddy group together on Fertility Friend. She's such a wonderful, warm and caring person, and I'm so glad not only to know her and Narda, but to be able to witness such joy and happiness. They totally deserve it.

Mazel Tov, girls-I can't wait to meet your daughter!

yes, Shelli.........I edited it-Sean and I are having a niece!! Hee hee!

Sniffle Sniffle Snort Snort, Hack Hack

I've caught a cold. I'm actually astounded that I haven't caught one before now, considering I work with small children. Especially since they have a wonderful habit of sneezing or coughing into their hands, then try to give you a BIG hug or touch your hair. I love that.


I started feeling wonky yesterday afternoon-scratchy throat, stuffy head, achy. I stocked up on all those cold medicine goodies at the supermarket, came home and made a Shepherd's Pie (was okay), self-medicated with some NyQuil and crashed.

I had total "medicine head" all day today (from the NyQuil-it's mostly alcohol)-in fact, there was one point that I zoned out in class-I could see the kids moving their mouths, but it was like I couldn't hear any voices. Sheesh. I think that tomorrow will be a sick day. I can't afford to be like that with teaching Kindergarten classes all day long.

Anyway, I sent off my $25 check to Nursey P to get a copy of my records. It might be an interesting read, who knows. However, once I get them, I'll be making an appointment for a second opinion faster than shit out of a goose. I'm getting weary of my self-imposed infertility "vacation"; especially since there's no warm sun, sand, a cold drink or sex included.

I'm starting to feel as if life is passing me by, that if I'm not proactive, I'm wasting valuable fertility time. Then again, the past three and a half years has revolved around fertility issues, and I wonder if it's a case that I'm so used to this routine I now know no other way.

Sean says that I need to relax, that I'm pressuring myself too much. Perhaps, he's right (for a change!).

Yeah, a sick day is DEFINITELY in order for tomorrow-a "mental health" day as much as a physical health day.

Sounds nice.