Do DOO Do do do.................
Okay, after the Great Gassing of 'aught-seven (which himself is STILL paying for, btw), I had to prepare for the most wonderful time of the year.........RE appointments! Yah! High-five!
Oh, yeah, and I did check-PGD doesn't factor out any flatulence problems. Bully for me, I guess. I'll have to go to Costco and get an industrial size bottle of Beano or Gas-X, to save my sex life.
I got up this morning at the butt-crack of dawn to be able to get to the RE's office around 6:30-ish. Of course, I wasn't really factoring in that since we had a dusting of snow overnight it would turn the entire driving population of New Jersey into babbling idiots. So, got there at 6:30, got my blood drawn, and then waited for my dildocam date. I didn't end up getting into the exam room until almost 8am, and was late for work (blech!). But, there is a lovely follicle growing on my left side, and I get a reprieve until my next date on Wednesday for more bloodletting and wanding. Gee, should I ask for flowers and candy for this date, or would that be too presumptious of me?
So, no news yet as to when the transfer will be. I guess we'll get more news as it comes. So, for now, enjoy this blast from the past (God, I LOVE this-lovelovelove it!) that has been in my head for days now. Actually, it's really reminiscent of the way that my students look at me sometimes when I get a little wacky in the classroom......heh.....
Monday, January 29, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Reason #5205 That I Might Seriously Reconsider Procreating With My Husband
Okay, my husband is officially a sick bastard.
Really sick. Like, ill in the head.
Here's the story:
After school I went to the salon for my haircut and highlighting (which looks FABOO, btw). I leave the salon, feeling all sassy and sexy, to go home, where my hot husband is wating (well, not waiting for me, really, but for his dinner-however, we'll get back to that in a second). He's looking so cute and I'm feeling so sexy and sassy that......well........I go to give him a hug and I'm feeling frisky and........I unzip his jeans and stick my hands down the front.......
Okay, you're seeing the setup, right? And, I know what you're thinking-that we had hot sex on the kitchen floor.
NOT.
As my hands undid his belt.....he farted. FARTED, people. Not a loud one-oh, no no no. That would've been funny (at least, in our house). No, he decided to do an SBD (Silent But Deadly) and not give me a warning.
So you can just picture that, as I unzipped his jeans and stick my hands in the front.....I unknowingly released the noxious fumes that had just fallen out of his ass. Or, "Releasing the Kracken", as we have now christened it.
Dude, I almost threw up on him. It STUNK so bad, I thought he shit himself.....SERIOUSLY. I couldn't stop gagging and I had to check my hands for fart-burns.
Now, ask me if he even apologized for this frat-house antic.
Again............NOT.
All he said was, "Oops.....I forgot to tell you about that......they're really gross, aren't they-I was making myself nauseous all day at work".
Oops? OOPS? Are you kidding me? And, how can you FORGET to tell someone who just happens to have their hands around your shaft that YOU JUST PUSHED A STINKY FART OUT OF YOUR ASS?? It's not like you forgot something on the grocery list or didn't pick up the dry cleaning or neglected picking up the mail-you forgot that you laid a stinky? How can you FORGET you're making that "a small woodland creature just crawled up your ass and died" stench?? It's kinda hard to ignore, ya know.
Needless to say, his stinky ass made dinner last night. And cocoa. And dessert. Because, let's face it-friends don't let friends fart before foreplay and ruin the sexing. And, if they do, they're in the doghouse. Where they can breathe in the foul smell creeping out of their bowels.
Oh, God- and I still want children with this man? Is stinky gas a genetic trait that'll be passed on? Do you think that Dr. Pipsqueak could do PGD for stinky ass-gassiness?
Just. Plain. Nasty.
Really sick. Like, ill in the head.
Here's the story:
After school I went to the salon for my haircut and highlighting (which looks FABOO, btw). I leave the salon, feeling all sassy and sexy, to go home, where my hot husband is wating (well, not waiting for me, really, but for his dinner-however, we'll get back to that in a second). He's looking so cute and I'm feeling so sexy and sassy that......well........I go to give him a hug and I'm feeling frisky and........I unzip his jeans and stick my hands down the front.......
Okay, you're seeing the setup, right? And, I know what you're thinking-that we had hot sex on the kitchen floor.
NOT.
As my hands undid his belt.....he farted. FARTED, people. Not a loud one-oh, no no no. That would've been funny (at least, in our house). No, he decided to do an SBD (Silent But Deadly) and not give me a warning.
So you can just picture that, as I unzipped his jeans and stick my hands in the front.....I unknowingly released the noxious fumes that had just fallen out of his ass. Or, "Releasing the Kracken", as we have now christened it.
Dude, I almost threw up on him. It STUNK so bad, I thought he shit himself.....SERIOUSLY. I couldn't stop gagging and I had to check my hands for fart-burns.
Now, ask me if he even apologized for this frat-house antic.
Again............NOT.
All he said was, "Oops.....I forgot to tell you about that......they're really gross, aren't they-I was making myself nauseous all day at work".
Oops? OOPS? Are you kidding me? And, how can you FORGET to tell someone who just happens to have their hands around your shaft that YOU JUST PUSHED A STINKY FART OUT OF YOUR ASS?? It's not like you forgot something on the grocery list or didn't pick up the dry cleaning or neglected picking up the mail-you forgot that you laid a stinky? How can you FORGET you're making that "a small woodland creature just crawled up your ass and died" stench?? It's kinda hard to ignore, ya know.
Needless to say, his stinky ass made dinner last night. And cocoa. And dessert. Because, let's face it-friends don't let friends fart before foreplay and ruin the sexing. And, if they do, they're in the doghouse. Where they can breathe in the foul smell creeping out of their bowels.
Oh, God- and I still want children with this man? Is stinky gas a genetic trait that'll be passed on? Do you think that Dr. Pipsqueak could do PGD for stinky ass-gassiness?
Just. Plain. Nasty.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Uh.......
Manuela? Do I offend?
WHY CAN'T I GET ON YOUR BLOG WITHOUT A PASSWORD????
Help!!!! Email me and let me know what the deal is!
:)
WHY CAN'T I GET ON YOUR BLOG WITHOUT A PASSWORD????
Help!!!! Email me and let me know what the deal is!
:)
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Blah, Blah, Sis Boom Bah
I finally did it. I joined the gym, so I can get this blubber off of my body and I can wear a teeny-weenie bikini on the beach this summer......
BWAHAHAHAHAHA! That was a good one, wasn't it? I think I tinkled in my panties.
Seriously, I did send in the $$ to join a local fitness center (starting with B and ending with an 's). I honestly would've never done it on my own, due to the cost, but we get an educator's discount through our union, which is pretty damn cool. I need to get my ass moving, get physically fit and feeling better about my body. Plus, I got one of those IPod Shuffles for Christmas, and I can't wait to try it out on the treadmill. Now, I just need to get some new sneakers and sweats-they're really old and looking a little tired. M also belongs to the same location (although, through the deal we can go to any location in the country), so we were talking about going together a few days out of the week and be each other's moral support.
Well, what else has been going on? School has settled in, although not in the smoothest of ways. It didn't help that one of the BD kids flipped out last week (he had to be removed from school in an ambulance), so it put people on edge. That, and the visit from the Dept of Ed at our other school-there was a scurrying about to prep and primp and show our best work. It was one of the few times that I was glad I'm not a classroom teacher-they don't really care about the "Specials" as much, and I wasn't under the scrutiny.
Nothing much on the fertility front, unless you can count waiting for "You Know Who" (and no, it ain't Voldemort). I've decided that this month I'll be calling it "Playing banjo in Sgt. Zygote's Ragtime Band"-it sounds catchy, no? Once that happens, we'll be on board for "FET#4-The Last of the Red-Hot Embryos". We're really hoping that perhaps these 3-day ones might be a little stronger for us and, uh.........perhaps work. Although I know that it's a lot to ask, but I'll dare to.
I do have to say I'm quite proud to made it through the holidays with the minimum amount of feeling down, which is a positive thing. And, that's even with not one, but two pregnancy announcements (one from Sean's cousin and his wife, who go to our church, the other, his best friend S). I'm actually amazed that it didn't upset me as it usually would. Could it be that perhaps I'm more accepting of my infertility? Or maybe I'm more accepting of my fate-I've come to the point that I almost expect the FET's to fail, and, to be honest, if it did work for me I'd be shocked. Who knows, really. But, I do know this-I need to see it through to the end, whatever the outcome. Whether or not we'll continue treatments after this has never been discussed. There's never been a "Plan B". Sean once mentioned that he's not altogether comfortable with adoption, which I have to respect. A decision like that has to be in 100% agreement, and you can't force someone to do something that they aren't sure of. Anyways, we aren't at that point of a "Plan B" yet. We still have a little fight left in us.
And we're going to fight like hell.
BWAHAHAHAHAHA! That was a good one, wasn't it? I think I tinkled in my panties.
Seriously, I did send in the $$ to join a local fitness center (starting with B and ending with an 's). I honestly would've never done it on my own, due to the cost, but we get an educator's discount through our union, which is pretty damn cool. I need to get my ass moving, get physically fit and feeling better about my body. Plus, I got one of those IPod Shuffles for Christmas, and I can't wait to try it out on the treadmill. Now, I just need to get some new sneakers and sweats-they're really old and looking a little tired. M also belongs to the same location (although, through the deal we can go to any location in the country), so we were talking about going together a few days out of the week and be each other's moral support.
Well, what else has been going on? School has settled in, although not in the smoothest of ways. It didn't help that one of the BD kids flipped out last week (he had to be removed from school in an ambulance), so it put people on edge. That, and the visit from the Dept of Ed at our other school-there was a scurrying about to prep and primp and show our best work. It was one of the few times that I was glad I'm not a classroom teacher-they don't really care about the "Specials" as much, and I wasn't under the scrutiny.
Nothing much on the fertility front, unless you can count waiting for "You Know Who" (and no, it ain't Voldemort). I've decided that this month I'll be calling it "Playing banjo in Sgt. Zygote's Ragtime Band"-it sounds catchy, no? Once that happens, we'll be on board for "FET#4-The Last of the Red-Hot Embryos". We're really hoping that perhaps these 3-day ones might be a little stronger for us and, uh.........perhaps work. Although I know that it's a lot to ask, but I'll dare to.
I do have to say I'm quite proud to made it through the holidays with the minimum amount of feeling down, which is a positive thing. And, that's even with not one, but two pregnancy announcements (one from Sean's cousin and his wife, who go to our church, the other, his best friend S). I'm actually amazed that it didn't upset me as it usually would. Could it be that perhaps I'm more accepting of my infertility? Or maybe I'm more accepting of my fate-I've come to the point that I almost expect the FET's to fail, and, to be honest, if it did work for me I'd be shocked. Who knows, really. But, I do know this-I need to see it through to the end, whatever the outcome. Whether or not we'll continue treatments after this has never been discussed. There's never been a "Plan B". Sean once mentioned that he's not altogether comfortable with adoption, which I have to respect. A decision like that has to be in 100% agreement, and you can't force someone to do something that they aren't sure of. Anyways, we aren't at that point of a "Plan B" yet. We still have a little fight left in us.
And we're going to fight like hell.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
2006 Can Kiss My Saggy Fat Ass
Well, on my little hiatus I did a lot of thinking. And drinking. LOTS of drinking, because, let's face it-2006 sucked large hairy wrinkly testicles. And, here's what I came up with:
* I need to start blogging more often. I've missed it, even though I have been reading your blogs, I've been neglectful of my own. So, no more silences. I need the emotional release of it.
* I'm tired of worrying and stressing about this. I'm not getting any younger, and the stress is worse than the trying to conceive crap. I'm going to start 2007 trying to worry less.
* I'm sick of planning my life around whether or not my reproductive system is going to cooperate. It might never happen, so I can't deny myself opportunities just because I "might" get pregnant. Broadway, here I come! No, seriously, I need to take more time for me, and for my relationship with Sean.
*I am a fat pig. No really. Okay, perhaps I'm exaggerating a bit, but we all know that ART treatments pack on the pounds (especially those meds). I've decided to take advantage of our union's deal with a popular area gym and join. I used to belong to another gym, and I did feel more empowered and active. Also, since it seems as if my boobages have grown yet another cup size (we're up to DD's now), I need to lose the boob blubber, or else I'll be scooping them off the floor, putting them in bonnets and a stroller and tell everyone that they're twins. Not cool.
* I'm getting a bit weary on the job front. Not my actual job, because I love to teach. I think, however, that perhaps the place I'm in isn't for me. There's a lot of politics abound. And yes, I know that it's everywhere, but it's so blatant here. Let's just say that it's so blatant that it's a joke in other districts. Perhaps a change of scenery is best.
* Our bathroom sucks. We're (or should I say, the lovely Sean) renovating it, because......
* We've come to the conclusion that we've outgrown the house we're in. How we can come to that conclusion based on the fact that, well, we haven't actually added people to this "family" (I'm not counting my boobs. Yet.) I have no idea, but it looks as if we're going to put the house on the market by February or March. We've alreadly found a house we love one town over, that's been on the market for almost a year and needs a lot of work. Perfect. Also, we know someone who knows the current owner, so that's a plus for us (we hope).
So, based on all of this thinking, what's the solution, you're wondering?
Well, why not do another frozen cycle, for starters! WOOT! Yeah, I'm a glutton for punishment. Don't remind me.
I finally had my "failed cycle" appointment yesterday. It was rescheduled because Dr. Pipsqueak had a surgery that was moved up, so I got bumped. After the whole conversational redux of "well, I don't know why it didn't work, the embryos were wonderful, your lining was perfect, hormones good", which we got earlier in the summer, I found out that none of the other 2pn embryos made it to blast. Which means that we have 6 day 3's left. So, she gave me the choice of either a medicated or non-medicated cycle for the next one. Since there really is no medical reason for me to do a medicated cycle (hormone levels are great, no lining issues, no extra long cycles), I immediately chose another natural cycle. It also gives the advantage that we aren't going to tell anyone about this one (present company excluded of course-I mean family or friends), since we won't have to rely on anyone giving me ass-shots. Of course, it does have the disadvantage that I have to be pretty much moving in to the clinic, since I'll be there almost every morning for bloodwork, but it could be worse. I could be doing another fresh cycle, which would be depressing as hell. So, we're looking at a transfer sometime in February, once my period comes (which will be sometime in the middle to end of January). And, hopefully we could squeeze another one in before the lab closes again (another advantage to a natural cycle), assuming that we don't lose too many of these embryos.
One thing that she did say is that she still feels that it will work. My eggs were retrieved at what are still considered a "young" age, she doesn't want to try PGD (which is great, since it ain't covered under insurance and we don't have $7K of "fuck you" money lying around) as she feels it wouldn't help, and the quality of eggs and sperm, and uterus aren't the issue. It's just, as she reiterated, just bad luck. We did discuss the 2 embryo vs. 3 embryo transfer, and we left the discussion at what she sees at transfer time. If the thawed embryos aren't great, we'll do three. If they're great, we'll do 2, because adding one more isn't going to increase chances of my getting pregnant, it'll only increase the likelihood of triplets, and all I want is a healthy child, not a litter, at least if I can help it.
We did have a nice chat afterwards though-I guess it's the upside of having one the last appointments. She asked how my break was, about my singing (I found out that Dr. C sang with an a capella group while still in school) and told me about her ski trip out West (although she luckily didn't get caught in the blizzard hell, she was delayed in Texas coming home). She also asked about my job, and I regaled her with tales of my students, and she was in hysterics about my some of my more......uh.......interesting kids. Like the kindergartner I have who is a streaker. I shit you not. The primary classrooms all have bathrooms, and this kid has a habit of going in to do his business, then takes off his pants and underwear, and proceeds to run out of the bathroom naked from the waist down and runs around the classroom. Yeah. And the child study team says that there's "nothing wrong with him". Riiiight.......
So, other than that, the break was blah. I did get sick on Christmas Day and spent most of it in a cold-medicine-induced haze. I lost my voice and everything, and the family kept calling me "Kathleen Turner" all night. Turns out I had a sinus infection. Yay. So I spent the next 5 days on mega dose horsepills of antibiotics. And then I got plastered on New Year's and felt slightly hungover the next day. And, that's it.
I hope that you all had a decent holiday. Now, let's all give the finger to '06, and tell it to screw.
Kiss my ass, 2006. Here's hoping 2007 brings all of us better days ahead.
* I need to start blogging more often. I've missed it, even though I have been reading your blogs, I've been neglectful of my own. So, no more silences. I need the emotional release of it.
* I'm tired of worrying and stressing about this. I'm not getting any younger, and the stress is worse than the trying to conceive crap. I'm going to start 2007 trying to worry less.
* I'm sick of planning my life around whether or not my reproductive system is going to cooperate. It might never happen, so I can't deny myself opportunities just because I "might" get pregnant. Broadway, here I come! No, seriously, I need to take more time for me, and for my relationship with Sean.
*I am a fat pig. No really. Okay, perhaps I'm exaggerating a bit, but we all know that ART treatments pack on the pounds (especially those meds). I've decided to take advantage of our union's deal with a popular area gym and join. I used to belong to another gym, and I did feel more empowered and active. Also, since it seems as if my boobages have grown yet another cup size (we're up to DD's now), I need to lose the boob blubber, or else I'll be scooping them off the floor, putting them in bonnets and a stroller and tell everyone that they're twins. Not cool.
* I'm getting a bit weary on the job front. Not my actual job, because I love to teach. I think, however, that perhaps the place I'm in isn't for me. There's a lot of politics abound. And yes, I know that it's everywhere, but it's so blatant here. Let's just say that it's so blatant that it's a joke in other districts. Perhaps a change of scenery is best.
* Our bathroom sucks. We're (or should I say, the lovely Sean) renovating it, because......
* We've come to the conclusion that we've outgrown the house we're in. How we can come to that conclusion based on the fact that, well, we haven't actually added people to this "family" (I'm not counting my boobs. Yet.) I have no idea, but it looks as if we're going to put the house on the market by February or March. We've alreadly found a house we love one town over, that's been on the market for almost a year and needs a lot of work. Perfect. Also, we know someone who knows the current owner, so that's a plus for us (we hope).
So, based on all of this thinking, what's the solution, you're wondering?
Well, why not do another frozen cycle, for starters! WOOT! Yeah, I'm a glutton for punishment. Don't remind me.
I finally had my "failed cycle" appointment yesterday. It was rescheduled because Dr. Pipsqueak had a surgery that was moved up, so I got bumped. After the whole conversational redux of "well, I don't know why it didn't work, the embryos were wonderful, your lining was perfect, hormones good", which we got earlier in the summer, I found out that none of the other 2pn embryos made it to blast. Which means that we have 6 day 3's left. So, she gave me the choice of either a medicated or non-medicated cycle for the next one. Since there really is no medical reason for me to do a medicated cycle (hormone levels are great, no lining issues, no extra long cycles), I immediately chose another natural cycle. It also gives the advantage that we aren't going to tell anyone about this one (present company excluded of course-I mean family or friends), since we won't have to rely on anyone giving me ass-shots. Of course, it does have the disadvantage that I have to be pretty much moving in to the clinic, since I'll be there almost every morning for bloodwork, but it could be worse. I could be doing another fresh cycle, which would be depressing as hell. So, we're looking at a transfer sometime in February, once my period comes (which will be sometime in the middle to end of January). And, hopefully we could squeeze another one in before the lab closes again (another advantage to a natural cycle), assuming that we don't lose too many of these embryos.
One thing that she did say is that she still feels that it will work. My eggs were retrieved at what are still considered a "young" age, she doesn't want to try PGD (which is great, since it ain't covered under insurance and we don't have $7K of "fuck you" money lying around) as she feels it wouldn't help, and the quality of eggs and sperm, and uterus aren't the issue. It's just, as she reiterated, just bad luck. We did discuss the 2 embryo vs. 3 embryo transfer, and we left the discussion at what she sees at transfer time. If the thawed embryos aren't great, we'll do three. If they're great, we'll do 2, because adding one more isn't going to increase chances of my getting pregnant, it'll only increase the likelihood of triplets, and all I want is a healthy child, not a litter, at least if I can help it.
We did have a nice chat afterwards though-I guess it's the upside of having one the last appointments. She asked how my break was, about my singing (I found out that Dr. C sang with an a capella group while still in school) and told me about her ski trip out West (although she luckily didn't get caught in the blizzard hell, she was delayed in Texas coming home). She also asked about my job, and I regaled her with tales of my students, and she was in hysterics about my some of my more......uh.......interesting kids. Like the kindergartner I have who is a streaker. I shit you not. The primary classrooms all have bathrooms, and this kid has a habit of going in to do his business, then takes off his pants and underwear, and proceeds to run out of the bathroom naked from the waist down and runs around the classroom. Yeah. And the child study team says that there's "nothing wrong with him". Riiiight.......
So, other than that, the break was blah. I did get sick on Christmas Day and spent most of it in a cold-medicine-induced haze. I lost my voice and everything, and the family kept calling me "Kathleen Turner" all night. Turns out I had a sinus infection. Yay. So I spent the next 5 days on mega dose horsepills of antibiotics. And then I got plastered on New Year's and felt slightly hungover the next day. And, that's it.
I hope that you all had a decent holiday. Now, let's all give the finger to '06, and tell it to screw.
Kiss my ass, 2006. Here's hoping 2007 brings all of us better days ahead.
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