Called Out

I have to admit-I lurve you guys. Seriously.

I haven't actually sat down and talked to the lovely Sean yet about all of this (we've actually not seen much of each other since it's Fashion Week and he's jobbing out), but I am leaning toward trying au naturale for a bit longer. Then, perhaps we'll do that last cycle. Your comments made me see that 35 isn't really the Fertility Kiss Of Death as the twatotologists make it seem to be. Hell, if that were the case, how the frick did people in my family have "late in life" babies? I mean, my great-grandmother was pregnant with her firstborn the same time her own mother was pregnant with her last baby? Seriously-I think that my great uncle was only a few months older than his youngest aunt. If they can do it, so can I, right?

Maybe we'll do a cycle in February or March, depending on the lab schedule. We can't do a cycle in December or January, because of M and Sexy J's wedding at the beginning of October (now labeled the Event of the Century)-they just don't make sexy maternity wear in an "I'm about to drop this baby out of my cooter onto the dance floor" size. Well, you get what I mean. Unless we go to the camping store and buy a nice tent-hmmm, there's an idea.......

Anyways, all bets might be off if the school district's contract negotiations don't resolve, as the Board of Ed want us to pay into our benefits and the union doesn't want to. Yes, I know that in the grand scheme of things, it isn't that big of a deal (Jaysus, I even payed into medical while working as an employee in a medical insurance company for 7 years), but when you've never payed into medical benefits before, it kind of sucks-especially since any raise in salary we get will then go towards medical insurance payments. And, we don't make a whole lot to begin with, even compared to other districts in our county. So, in effect, if we have to pay a percentage of our insurance, we're basically not getting a raise. Which blows large monkey anuses.

Needless to say, we're now working without a contract. The union tried to meet twice with the Board, but when the subject of paying for benefits came up, and the Board was told that it wasn't part of the agenda, the Board abruptly ended the meeting and walked out. Not good. So, let's hope that there isn't a "job action", because then we're REALLY screwed-and not just reproductively.

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So, there's something that has been rolling around in one of the cavernous spots in my brain for about a few weeks now. It's regarding a comment left by the lovely Denise a few weeks ago (and I respectfully quote):

I just love your sense of humor you inject. While I don't know if it's natural for you or if it is a defensive technique, your blog is a joy to read. When we were TTC and going through all the crap that comes with infertility, I learned to be a great actress. While I consider myself a funny person, I also injected extra humor into things. Then I wouldn't cry.

Aww.....I'm blushing. You like me, you REALLY.....okay, you know the rest. Heh.

But seriously, Denise, what you said really struck me for a second, and it made me think about me and how I deal with all of this, and whether it's my personality or sense of self-preservation that shows through on this blog.

I totally get what you mean about being an "actress" when it comes to all of this crap. I try not to show my feelings in front of people, unless they're being total ignorant asshats-then I have to get my Infertility Freak On and "educate" them. I guess, to a point, my sense of humor could be a defensive measure (self-preservation and all that). But, have I always been the kind of person who finds something humorous in situations that are, in essence, not at all funny? Well.....yes. But, not deliberately. I like to tell stories, this is true, and I suppose that my theatre background helps in that regard. But, is it a part of my personality? I don't know.

I mean, I don't really consider myself having a great sense of humor (although, if those of you who know me IRL disagree, I stand corrected) or that I'm an extraordinarily funny person. I've thought about this, and I think that my particular brand of sarcasm is a direct result of infertility. A casualty, if you will. Oddly enough, between Sean and I, he's the one to be the "funny one" of the relationship. The one to make a joke in a TOTALLY inappropriate situation (like at a wake-and I'm serious about this). And, perhaps the twelve or so years that we've been together have rubbed off on me, and I've developed this too.

Yes, I do think that it's partly as a defense, but really I think this blog from the beginning has always been, for me, a form of therapy. A place to let things out. I suppose that, ideally, it's not entirely natural to find the humor in every aspect of infertility, and I really REALLY should go into "traditional" therapy but, for now, this has been enough for me. Will it always be enough? Who knows.

I think a lot of it is that I have to find the funny in the situation, to be able to deal with it. It's also to remind me that it's not always as bad as it can seem, because I sometimes overreact to things. That if I can laugh, and make someone else laugh, then it's not that horrible. Even if it is.

I also think that I try to put a sense of humor here because it isn't only a case of self-preservation, but perhaps it helps other people, too. I remember, even before I decided to blog, and in the early days, reading blogs like Julie's and Olivia Drab's (who just had her beautiful daughter yesterday-congrats!) and laughing my ass off, even when I felt like shit. And I was surprised that I felt better afterwards-that it didnt' make infertility "okay", but it made it more bearable for me. That doesn't mean that their reproductive lives are happy-go-lucky, but it helped me when I was in a low spot. So, maybe it's a case of "paying it forward".

I, too, rarely cry anymore when comes to infertility. Whether it's because I can laugh it off or because I'm desenstized to it I don't know-perhaps I'm just more accepting and used to it. But what I do know is that, regardless of whether you can laugh or cry about it, it all still sucks-no matter who you are, what your diagnosis is or whether or not you're still trying, in some sort of treatment, or have achieved your family. It still really really sucks.

But, thanks, Denise-your comment really made me think-and search myself to really get a grasp on my feelings........and that's always a good thing.

So, everyone-how do you get through? What do you do to cope?

And, booze doesn't count-that's a given.

Red Light, Green Light

I've been meaning to post on the results of Dr. Pipsqueak's appointment, but being that the first day of school is fast approaching (t-minus 4 days and counting-ouch!), I've been busy trying to get organized in both of my schools-getting schedules, dealing with additional special ed classes being added to my schedule last minute, tracking down supplies.........all those fun things that we teachers love to do to get ready for the arrival of the kids. That, and drinking heavily between now and the first day of school.

Now, onto the appointment results....

So, the upshot is that all the karyotyping and Fragile X testing came back normal for both Sean and myself, as well as the physical and ultrasound I had on Tuesday afternoon. Which I'm relieved about, because I was convinced that they were going to find that I was some reproductive mutant with latent pyrotechnic abilities that might trigger with a Lupron/Follistim cocktail (hmmm....gotta find an X-Men name for that one...). As for the HSG results, the right tube is open and ready for business, the left is blocked fimbrially, but there is no need to remove the tube as it wasn't dilated prior to the dye being introduced during the test. I did ask her if it was realistic to try on our own and hope for natural conception, and her exact words were, "I'd definitely try if I were you", but, if we want to do another cycle, we're cleared for it. If we do manage to get pregnant on our own, however, they still need to monitor me closely, since my risk of ectopic pregnancy jumps from 5% to 25%.

And that was that. Other than having the nurses in hysterics when I talked about getting the Follicular Lurve Wanding (and yes, I actually DID say that-why not!?). Now, the choice has to be made.

Do I go ahead with another cycle, or do we try this on our own? Am I really ready for the monitoring, injections, and stress? Do I want to put myself through the TTC au natural again?

ARRGH.....I hate this! On one hand, I feel like time is ticking away-I'll be 35 in six weeks time-and that with the passing of that birthday it will be like an Ovarian Death Sentence and that suddenly my body will not be as cooperative in the egg quality department. But, I don't want to rush into a cycle that could potentially fail just because I'm passing the Magic Fertility Cut-Off Number, especially as it's the last time it will be fully covered by insurance. On the other hand, I never really gave the TTC on our own a fighting chance-well, we did try on our own for almost a year, but I don't think that I ever really got the timing right, plus all the charting/temping crap just aggravated the hell out of me. Then, by the time I got the Fertility Monitor, I only used it one or two cycles before I got my initial diagnosis, then stopped as I thought it was a collosial waste of time-what was the point of knowing when I ovulated when I was being told that both of my tubes are blocked?

Of course, now that I'm being told that there's one open tube, it's throwing a wrench in everything. Yes, I know that I have a higher risk of ectopic, that just because the dye spilled doesn't mean that the inside of the tube isn't damaged in some way-I mean, we've been having unprotected sex for five years now and I've never gotten pregnant. But, I've also been looking up the probability of getting pregnant on my own, and as long as the tube and ovary are good, I have a shot as much as anyone. Hell, if my mother, who only has one tube and ovary (she lost the other side due to a dermoid cyst the size of a grapefruit on her ovary) and was told that she might never conceive managed to do it twice in 20 months (yeah, she got pregnant with my brother six weeks after I was born), and one more time 10 years later (and lost it), maybe I can, too.

But, the thing that is nagging me the most is the strong gut feeling that I'm having to try it on my own-a last hurrah, if you will. That it could work without medical intervention. I've never felt like this during this entire TTC journey. But, I'm afraid that this isn't a true instinct , but is just a reaction against doing a cycle, due to fear of failure.

Yet, I'm still getting this odd feeling that I'm being guided to this choice somehow. Needless to say, I'm more than confused as to which choice to make, and nobody around here (excepting present company, of course!) that has a clue to really hash it out with.

So, tell me.....................what would you do?