So, Mother's Day certainly sucked big ASS for me.
I decided that, this year, I would not be celebrating Mother's Day this year. Of course, I neglected to actually tell anyone in the family this, so I'm sure that my mother is pretty pissed off at me and cursing me out as I type this. But, I really couldn't deal with it this year. I couldn't help but think that this year I would have been a mother, and that I have to do yet another cycle, not knowing whether or not it will work. That I have to go to work today and hearing from all the teachers the wonderful things they did/got/etc.
Just. plain. sucks.
I've decided that the majority of the people I work with are insensitive. They all know what I'm going through, have seen me through my first two cycles already-you'd think that they might, uh, be considerate. Nah. Every single time I have lunch in the teacher's lounge, the talk goes to babies, grandkids, who's pregnant or who's daughter/granddaughter is pregnant, comparing symptoms, blah blahdefucking blah. Sheesh. I can't even eat my lunch anymore without baby/pregnancy talk. And,it's not like I can participate in any of it, so I just try to quickly eat and bolt out of the room. Sigh-I guess that's what happens when you work in a woman-dominated place. Is it just me, or is this all women talk about? If I am so lucky to get pregnant and have a baby, will I become like that? I mean, I have other interests, other things to talk about-don't they?
So, I actually did have something nice (albeit sad) thing happen to me yesterday. After Mass yesterday morning, I found that my friends K&T were also there, and stopped by for a quick minute to chat. T said that she had something for me, and was I going home right after? I told her that I had to sing the next Mass, but that Sean and I would stop by afterward. When we got to their house, we hung out, ate some yummy sammies, then T gives me a gift bag. Inside it, there was this beautiful ornament that says "A child's first sense of home is found in it's Mother's arms". Attached to the ornament was a charm with an April Swarovski crystal, and a card that read "Just for you to always remember your sweet baby-and add to as you have the children you have dreamed of. You are always a mom-don't forget that."
I was so overwhelmed. I couldn't do anything but sit there and cry (with Sean, of course). Someone actually got it-how I felt, how I didn't feel I belonged to the "Mother's Club" because I didn't have a baby in my arms. She was able to strengthen my soul, and I can't even put into words how much it meant to me.
I put it up, on my armoire, so it will remind me of why I'm doing this third cycle. To make my resolve like steel. I will be a mother.
I already am. Thanks, T, for reminding me of that.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Friday, May 12, 2006
You Know What They Say.....
about the third time, right? Well, I won't say it, just in case.
Appointment went well-the bloodletting and turn with the Wand of Fun showed everything to be good, so we got the okay to move forward. We had our orientation and medication class yesterday afternoon, with three other couples. We, of course, were the old vets of the group, but that was okay. We met a teacher and her husband (also a teacher) who was there because she has to do PGD due to a family genetic disorder, and I felt bad for her, because she and her husband had no fertility problems. She also seemed scared shitless. God, I remember that well.
We also met our nurse, Nurse Blondie, who was really nice (and also ran the orientation). She seems to be very helpful and matter of fact, but also compassionate, which is good.
So, here's the lowdown on my cycle: I started the Pill last night, which BLOWS ASS CHUNKS. Sean said that it was the ultimate cruel joke-to take birth control pills when we can't have kids on our own to begin with. Oh, well-bottoms up! But, taking it sure sucks. Can't wait for the constant nausea that I usually get at first to happen-I'm thinking that will happen within the next day or so. At least it's temporary, right?
Anyway, I take the little fuckers for about 10 days, then start Lupron injections beginning May 20th (overlapping with the pills). I take the last Pill on 5/23, then go in for a wanding and bloodwork on 5/26. If all looks okay, I start 225 IU of FolliSTING that evening, then take the same amount every night (only once a day, instead of 225 twice a day, which is what Dr. Vest had me on) unless they change the dosage, and drop the Lupron to 5 units. I go back on 5/28 for more monitoring, then Dr. Pipsqueak (who Sean duly renamed yesterday when he saw her come out of her office and realized that she barely came up to the nameplate on her door) wants me in every day after that for monitoring. Yikes. My arms will look like ground beef before it's all over-hopefully there will be a vein for the IV during the retrieval.
Retrieval is tentatively set between the 3rd and the 5th of June, depending, of course on how I respond to the meds. Transfer would be a three day, and the beta will be anytime from June 18th to 20th. I'll also have to go in the day after transfer, 2dp, 5dp, and 9dp for estradiol and progesterone checks, which I've never done before. I'm glad, though-it's a conservative approach, and one that perhaps I needed all along.
Wow.
For some reason, I thought that this wouldn't be until more towards the middle of June, but hey-it's meant to happen this way. It just seems to be moving more quickly this time around, and I'm not sure whether it's because we're at a Big Important Clinic or not, or that we were really proactive in completing the IVF checklist we were given last month-I noticed that the other members in our orientation had nothing completed yet (except for the PGD couple-I think that she and I will be cycling around the same time, which is cool). But, when all's said and done, I'm glad that we're not waiting around-I want to just get this done and over with.
By the way, watching Sean try to learn how to draw and give IM meds was hilarious. Honestly, I am really thankful that his mom and M are around to do this-watching him yesterday reinforces the thought that, as much as I love him and want his baby, I want him NO WHERE NEAR MY ASS CHEEK with a 2 1/2 inch sharp needle. Really.
However, if it gets me pregnant, I don't care who does it to me, as long as it works.
Appointment went well-the bloodletting and turn with the Wand of Fun showed everything to be good, so we got the okay to move forward. We had our orientation and medication class yesterday afternoon, with three other couples. We, of course, were the old vets of the group, but that was okay. We met a teacher and her husband (also a teacher) who was there because she has to do PGD due to a family genetic disorder, and I felt bad for her, because she and her husband had no fertility problems. She also seemed scared shitless. God, I remember that well.
We also met our nurse, Nurse Blondie, who was really nice (and also ran the orientation). She seems to be very helpful and matter of fact, but also compassionate, which is good.
So, here's the lowdown on my cycle: I started the Pill last night, which BLOWS ASS CHUNKS. Sean said that it was the ultimate cruel joke-to take birth control pills when we can't have kids on our own to begin with. Oh, well-bottoms up! But, taking it sure sucks. Can't wait for the constant nausea that I usually get at first to happen-I'm thinking that will happen within the next day or so. At least it's temporary, right?
Anyway, I take the little fuckers for about 10 days, then start Lupron injections beginning May 20th (overlapping with the pills). I take the last Pill on 5/23, then go in for a wanding and bloodwork on 5/26. If all looks okay, I start 225 IU of FolliSTING that evening, then take the same amount every night (only once a day, instead of 225 twice a day, which is what Dr. Vest had me on) unless they change the dosage, and drop the Lupron to 5 units. I go back on 5/28 for more monitoring, then Dr. Pipsqueak (who Sean duly renamed yesterday when he saw her come out of her office and realized that she barely came up to the nameplate on her door) wants me in every day after that for monitoring. Yikes. My arms will look like ground beef before it's all over-hopefully there will be a vein for the IV during the retrieval.
Retrieval is tentatively set between the 3rd and the 5th of June, depending, of course on how I respond to the meds. Transfer would be a three day, and the beta will be anytime from June 18th to 20th. I'll also have to go in the day after transfer, 2dp, 5dp, and 9dp for estradiol and progesterone checks, which I've never done before. I'm glad, though-it's a conservative approach, and one that perhaps I needed all along.
Wow.
For some reason, I thought that this wouldn't be until more towards the middle of June, but hey-it's meant to happen this way. It just seems to be moving more quickly this time around, and I'm not sure whether it's because we're at a Big Important Clinic or not, or that we were really proactive in completing the IVF checklist we were given last month-I noticed that the other members in our orientation had nothing completed yet (except for the PGD couple-I think that she and I will be cycling around the same time, which is cool). But, when all's said and done, I'm glad that we're not waiting around-I want to just get this done and over with.
By the way, watching Sean try to learn how to draw and give IM meds was hilarious. Honestly, I am really thankful that his mom and M are around to do this-watching him yesterday reinforces the thought that, as much as I love him and want his baby, I want him NO WHERE NEAR MY ASS CHEEK with a 2 1/2 inch sharp needle. Really.
However, if it gets me pregnant, I don't care who does it to me, as long as it works.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
34 Times (Cycle) Day One Equals......
$35,924.17. Which is the estimated back-rent that fucking bitch Aunt Flo owes me for her monthly stay in my uterine penthouse and trashing the joint. She's lucky that I don't charge her for the cleaning supplies and equipment. Tampons don't just grow on trees, dontcha know.......
By the way, thanks for the responses on the last post. I truly hope I didn't offend anyone....and, Pamplemouse, you weren't being harsh. Everyone has an opinion, and oftentimes telling it like it is shows us another point of view that we wouldn't ordinarily see-so, thank you for showing me your views.
So, today is Cycle Day One. Again. For 34th time, according to Futility Friend. Not that I'm keeping track or anything. I called Dr. Petite's admin this morning to announce the Red Tidings of Joy, and was then transferred to our awesome Coordinator, where I left a message. She called me back this afternoon to tell me that, since our checklist is completed, we will be meeting our nurse on Thursday, when we go in for both our IVF Orientation and Sean's Penile Spank-a-palooza 2006 (fortunately, for us, not at the same location-that would be just, well weird). Then, I get a call from our Nurse, who said that she wants me in on CD3 for a bloodletting and a Ride on the Wand of Follicular Fun (aka the Dildocam-in a sick and demented way, I kinda missed that....not....)-which conveniently happens to be-Thursday. The same day we have to be there for the Spankapalooza/Drug Fest-yay! It's guaranteed to be a fun-filled day for all involved.
If the tests clear me, I'll be starting the Pill for 10 days, then I'll overlap with the Lupron starting on Day 21. I've never taken them along with a cycle before, and I haven't been on the Pill since, well, just about 4 years ago, and I'm not looking forward to having to start taking them again. But, if this works, I won't care. Whatever it takes.
So, in other fertility news, it looks that I am, ultimately, the last person from my original Buddy Group that is without a child. And, I am truly, absolutely happy for my friend-she's been through hell and back and is finally pregnant-but sad too. I hate being the last one for anything-it just reinforces my feelings of that fucking biological clock ticking away inside my head. And, I can say that here, even though I know she reads my blog, because she understands where I'm coming from and knows that I'm not being an asshole (at least, I hope so). I just never thought that I would be the last one standing. Then again, I never thought that I'd have to do any type of fertility treatments, either. It's all just so fucked up, isn't it? I have no faith anymore that I can count on my body to know what it's supposed to do.
I've just been sort of resigned to this next cycle. I don't want to even discuss it with other people (aside from here). I just don't want the questions, the waiting on bated breath attitude from family members. I definitely want to do this, but it feels like I'm disconnected emotionally from it all. Perhaps it's because that lately, all I've been thinking about is, if things had worked out better, I'd have a three week old child at this time. And, it makes me angry and sad and bitter at myself. I mean, I was a mother, right? Even if it was for only 6 weeks or so? Does it count? To some people, yes-to me, it does. To others, well.........probably not. And, well, fuck them-preferably with a dirty, rusty butter knife, as far as I'm concerned.
I guess these emotions are all coming to a head with the imminent arrival to the Infertile Woman's Shittiest Holiday of the Year-Mother's Day. Every year, at our church, the priest asks all the mothers in the congregation to stand for a special blessing, and, every year, I slump down into my seat, ashamed that, for yet another year, I have no babies or swelling belly. Like my slightly flabby stomach (from too many damn Girl Scout Cookies) is an advertisement of my failure. Again.
So, this year, where do I belong? I really, truly hope and pray that this time, next year, the answer will be obviously, glaringly clear to everyone. Me included.
By the way, thanks for the responses on the last post. I truly hope I didn't offend anyone....and, Pamplemouse, you weren't being harsh. Everyone has an opinion, and oftentimes telling it like it is shows us another point of view that we wouldn't ordinarily see-so, thank you for showing me your views.
So, today is Cycle Day One. Again. For 34th time, according to Futility Friend. Not that I'm keeping track or anything. I called Dr. Petite's admin this morning to announce the Red Tidings of Joy, and was then transferred to our awesome Coordinator, where I left a message. She called me back this afternoon to tell me that, since our checklist is completed, we will be meeting our nurse on Thursday, when we go in for both our IVF Orientation and Sean's Penile Spank-a-palooza 2006 (fortunately, for us, not at the same location-that would be just, well weird). Then, I get a call from our Nurse, who said that she wants me in on CD3 for a bloodletting and a Ride on the Wand of Follicular Fun (aka the Dildocam-in a sick and demented way, I kinda missed that....not....)-which conveniently happens to be-Thursday. The same day we have to be there for the Spankapalooza/Drug Fest-yay! It's guaranteed to be a fun-filled day for all involved.
If the tests clear me, I'll be starting the Pill for 10 days, then I'll overlap with the Lupron starting on Day 21. I've never taken them along with a cycle before, and I haven't been on the Pill since, well, just about 4 years ago, and I'm not looking forward to having to start taking them again. But, if this works, I won't care. Whatever it takes.
So, in other fertility news, it looks that I am, ultimately, the last person from my original Buddy Group that is without a child. And, I am truly, absolutely happy for my friend-she's been through hell and back and is finally pregnant-but sad too. I hate being the last one for anything-it just reinforces my feelings of that fucking biological clock ticking away inside my head. And, I can say that here, even though I know she reads my blog, because she understands where I'm coming from and knows that I'm not being an asshole (at least, I hope so). I just never thought that I would be the last one standing. Then again, I never thought that I'd have to do any type of fertility treatments, either. It's all just so fucked up, isn't it? I have no faith anymore that I can count on my body to know what it's supposed to do.
I've just been sort of resigned to this next cycle. I don't want to even discuss it with other people (aside from here). I just don't want the questions, the waiting on bated breath attitude from family members. I definitely want to do this, but it feels like I'm disconnected emotionally from it all. Perhaps it's because that lately, all I've been thinking about is, if things had worked out better, I'd have a three week old child at this time. And, it makes me angry and sad and bitter at myself. I mean, I was a mother, right? Even if it was for only 6 weeks or so? Does it count? To some people, yes-to me, it does. To others, well.........probably not. And, well, fuck them-preferably with a dirty, rusty butter knife, as far as I'm concerned.
I guess these emotions are all coming to a head with the imminent arrival to the Infertile Woman's Shittiest Holiday of the Year-Mother's Day. Every year, at our church, the priest asks all the mothers in the congregation to stand for a special blessing, and, every year, I slump down into my seat, ashamed that, for yet another year, I have no babies or swelling belly. Like my slightly flabby stomach (from too many damn Girl Scout Cookies) is an advertisement of my failure. Again.
So, this year, where do I belong? I really, truly hope and pray that this time, next year, the answer will be obviously, glaringly clear to everyone. Me included.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
What the FUCK?
Just saw this one on the evening news:
Psychologist to be Britian's oldest mother at 63.
Okay, maybe it's me, but why? She already has two adult children. But, she's 63 YEARS OLD. And, how could a physician feel that he is morally correct in agreeing to treat her?
Don't get me wrong-I'm not against older mothers at all. Women are having babies well into their 40's, and are doing a terrific job. But, what about the mothers that are having babies in their 50's and (now) 60's? It's a whole different ballgame, really. It's well documented medically that there are more health risks involved for both the mother and the child, more risks for chromosomal anomalies. And, it's also about raising a child at that age. Let's think realistically-she's 63, which will make her 68 when her child starts school, 81 when the kid graduates from high school and 85 when he or she graduates from college. I know that people are living longer, but what about the quality of life? What's to say that either parent will be around to see this child graduate high school, let alone college? Can you see a 75 year old shuttling a kid back and forth to piano lessons, soccer practice and school dances with the same energy of someone 30 years their junior? And, is it fair to the child, especially if a parent develops an illness and has to be cared for? Who does the caring-a minor with no legal rights in regards to their parent's medical treatment? Does that make sense at all?
And yes, I do know that there are lots of children here in the U.S. that are being raised by grandparents-in fact, many of these children are my students-who aren't scarred for life. But, I do see that these grandparents have a hell of a time raising these kids They often can't do as much with them-they are older, often retired and on a pension, trying to raise kids while dealing with Medicare, various ailments, and, let's face it, the aches and pains of aging. Who is that fair to-the child?
The doctor, by the way, says that she should live "20 or 25 years" and that she isn't giving birth to an "orphan". That assuming, of course, that both she and her husband will remain in perfect health. No doctor can predict the future of any individual-I'm sure we all can think of someone we knew or loved that were in "perfect" health that suddenly went downhill and passed away with no warning. It's almost like this doctor is more preoccupied with getting post-menopausal women pregnant for the sake of being able to and giving birth to live babies than thinking of the quality of life for the patient and their child.
Just my opinion, but I think that it's selfish on the parents side. Even though these people (who are probably very nice) say that they have their child's best interest at heart, and that they made arrangements for their child's future, I really wonder.
It just makes IVF as a treatment option even harder for the public and religious leaders to view as acceptable for those of us who just want to have one child of our own. It gives the treatment a bad name, really.
Perhaps I'm being ridiculously harsh, but I just don't get it..........any opinions out there about this?
Psychologist to be Britian's oldest mother at 63.
Okay, maybe it's me, but why? She already has two adult children. But, she's 63 YEARS OLD. And, how could a physician feel that he is morally correct in agreeing to treat her?
Don't get me wrong-I'm not against older mothers at all. Women are having babies well into their 40's, and are doing a terrific job. But, what about the mothers that are having babies in their 50's and (now) 60's? It's a whole different ballgame, really. It's well documented medically that there are more health risks involved for both the mother and the child, more risks for chromosomal anomalies. And, it's also about raising a child at that age. Let's think realistically-she's 63, which will make her 68 when her child starts school, 81 when the kid graduates from high school and 85 when he or she graduates from college. I know that people are living longer, but what about the quality of life? What's to say that either parent will be around to see this child graduate high school, let alone college? Can you see a 75 year old shuttling a kid back and forth to piano lessons, soccer practice and school dances with the same energy of someone 30 years their junior? And, is it fair to the child, especially if a parent develops an illness and has to be cared for? Who does the caring-a minor with no legal rights in regards to their parent's medical treatment? Does that make sense at all?
And yes, I do know that there are lots of children here in the U.S. that are being raised by grandparents-in fact, many of these children are my students-who aren't scarred for life. But, I do see that these grandparents have a hell of a time raising these kids They often can't do as much with them-they are older, often retired and on a pension, trying to raise kids while dealing with Medicare, various ailments, and, let's face it, the aches and pains of aging. Who is that fair to-the child?
The doctor, by the way, says that she should live "20 or 25 years" and that she isn't giving birth to an "orphan". That assuming, of course, that both she and her husband will remain in perfect health. No doctor can predict the future of any individual-I'm sure we all can think of someone we knew or loved that were in "perfect" health that suddenly went downhill and passed away with no warning. It's almost like this doctor is more preoccupied with getting post-menopausal women pregnant for the sake of being able to and giving birth to live babies than thinking of the quality of life for the patient and their child.
Just my opinion, but I think that it's selfish on the parents side. Even though these people (who are probably very nice) say that they have their child's best interest at heart, and that they made arrangements for their child's future, I really wonder.
It just makes IVF as a treatment option even harder for the public and religious leaders to view as acceptable for those of us who just want to have one child of our own. It gives the treatment a bad name, really.
Perhaps I'm being ridiculously harsh, but I just don't get it..........any opinions out there about this?
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Give it to Me One More Time.....
Well, 8 days until we go for our IVF medication class. Big Important Clinic (BIC for short) has almost of our stuff-bloodwork, saline sonohystogram results (okey-dokey-was kinda cool and weird at the same time to see Dr. Petite injecting saline into my ute and not feeling anything), Sean's bloodwork is in, his spankfest is scheduled for next Thursday morning (so we don't have to travel there twice), and we're getting one of our forms (proof of partership/marriage-required) notarized tonight. The only glich is that I got a letter from our cool IVF coordinator that told me the lab "forgot" to test for my CBC, so I have to go back and get more blood drawn-ick. But, it's not a major problem, so no big deal.....
I've been thinking a lot about this upcoming cycle, and contemplating whether or not it will be my last. I'm not sure I want to give up at this time, but I'm also not sure if I can keep doing this. Given our past track record, I don't want to let that old bitch Hope in just yet-I don't want to even entertain that this could actually work for us. In some ways, it's so disheartening-trying to stay positive, trying everything (crackpot or not) under the sun to make the prime environment for success, and then ending up with nothing but heavy bleeding. But, if the medical professionals didn't think that this could work, they wouldn't give me Hope, right?
At least, that's what I'd like to think.
So, I'm trying to get through the next week or so until our class. It's not like I don't have enough to keep me busy-I have two concerts next week to prepare for-but this damn infertility is breathing down my neck, and I'm starting to get antsy. It's like my psyche knows that my self-imposed exile is almost over, and I'm back in the saddle again.
By the way, 32 more days until school ends, and I can't wait-the kids are driving me absolutely batty. I can't wait until the summer vacation.
Hopefully this will be a very nice summer vacation indeed, if you get my drift.
I've been thinking a lot about this upcoming cycle, and contemplating whether or not it will be my last. I'm not sure I want to give up at this time, but I'm also not sure if I can keep doing this. Given our past track record, I don't want to let that old bitch Hope in just yet-I don't want to even entertain that this could actually work for us. In some ways, it's so disheartening-trying to stay positive, trying everything (crackpot or not) under the sun to make the prime environment for success, and then ending up with nothing but heavy bleeding. But, if the medical professionals didn't think that this could work, they wouldn't give me Hope, right?
At least, that's what I'd like to think.
So, I'm trying to get through the next week or so until our class. It's not like I don't have enough to keep me busy-I have two concerts next week to prepare for-but this damn infertility is breathing down my neck, and I'm starting to get antsy. It's like my psyche knows that my self-imposed exile is almost over, and I'm back in the saddle again.
By the way, 32 more days until school ends, and I can't wait-the kids are driving me absolutely batty. I can't wait until the summer vacation.
Hopefully this will be a very nice summer vacation indeed, if you get my drift.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Va-cay
So........our vacation.....
Well, it didn't get off to the best start, sorry to say. We get to the airport at around 6:30am, e-tickets in hand, and go off to the computerized check-in. After putting in the confirmation number several times with no success I finally saw a ticket agent, who informed me (after she input the number a few more times) that the etickets were for Sunday, April 16th, not for Monday morning. At that point, I started to freak out right there in line. I (stupidly) thought that April 16th was on a Monday morning, and I was also stupid enough not to check it before the weekend. The nice ticket lady said that they could put us on a flight that left at 3:55, and I promptly started to cry, blubbering that we were going on a cruise and that we needed to be on the boat by 4:30, and pleasepleaseohgodplease can't you put us on anything earlier?
Sean later said that he saw that whole vacation flash right before his eyes like a dying man. I, of course, felt like the dumbest ass in the whole world. I was lucky that I didn't curse and swear though-there were nuns next to us checking in and it would have been a no-brainer that God would get us for that one.
Luckily, the nice ticket lady gave us standby tickets for the 8 and 9 am flights, and booked us on the 12:30 flight. Don't worry, said Nice Ticket Lady, your luggage will be on whatever flight you board, so please hand over your credit card so I can charge you the $350 fee to change the flight and print out paper tickets (FUCK!). Then began the Great Race to the Gates to see if we can get on the flights. The first flight (at gate 81) was a no-go-overbooked, in fact. So, we run to Gate 120 (on the other side of the airport, naturally) to see if we can get on the 9am flight. And, we wait.
If anyone has never had the misfortune to fly standby, well....it SUCKS. The stress, waiting, staring down the other standby passengers aggressively, like the plane is a lioness in heat and you're horny lion; sending those "pick me" vibes to the attendant at the gate and shaking a human skull while doing a voodoo dance in front of the counter (okay, so that's just what I do). Not my idea of a good time. I'd rather have a colonic, to be honest (and my poop chute is an exit only, thankyouverymuch).
Well, that bone-shaking must have worked, because we got on the 9am flight. Seperated seats, of course, but who gives a shit. I of course, due to the laws of nature, get stuck behind this freaky woman who was asking everyone around us to change seats so she and her daughter could sit together. Naturally, nobody wanted to change (they both had middle seats), so she was bitching and moaning and slamming her back into her seat. At one point, as I was bending down to get something out of my bag, she sat back into her seat and hit me in the head. It wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't happened again. Needless to say, she didn't like me much after I ripped her a new asshole.
We get to Tampa, make our way to the baggage claim area and wait like cows in front of the barnyard gate for our luggage. And waited. And WAITED. Finally, when we saw the same tired leather suitcase with the bright orange bow around the handle and the golf clubs go around for the 40th time, we figured out that our suitcase was MIA. So, off we trundle to the baggage area to file a claim, thanking our mothers silently for the reminder to pack extra underwear in our carry-on bag. But, lo and behold, our suitcase is sitting right outside the office-yay! Game on! We then find a cab and take the 20 minute ride to the port.
After this, the drama is over-really. Just the getting there was the shitty part.
We booked a suite for this cruise-not because I like to live above my means or anything like that. Honestly, it was cheap as hell-$800 per person for a suite with a balcony. Who am I to pass up a deal like that? Little did I know that there are some perks to these suites-namely, the ability to bypass the big snaking line and go to a special area to check-in. Whee-we were on the boat in 15 minutes! Let's unpack and hit the buffet and laugh at the people still waiting to get on the ship!
The weather was beautiful all week, the seas were calm, and I got a hell of a tan. Oh, yeah, and we fucked like rabbits all week-for some reason, tan lines seem to turn guys on. The room was nice, the balcony ROCKED (and yeah, Sean did moon me one morning as I was standing on the balcony, watching us plow through the Caribbean-I didn't have my camera though or else you'd all get to experience THAT). We sat with some pretty hilarious people, all of whom were from either NY State and Massachussets. And, we ate like pigs. Oh, yeah, did I mention the SEX!? Faboo. I'd forgotten what fun sex for pleasure is.
Our destinations were, overall, okay. Costa Maya was interesting (it's in Mexico, almost at the border of Belize), but Cozumel was kinda sad. We'd been there two years previously and it was hard to see the effects of Hurricane Wilma-one of the two concrete piers were completely destroyed, and there was a lot of rubble, trash and uprooted trees along the shoreline. We did some exploring, but mostly hung out on the ship.
Flying home was terrific-because we got to fly First Class. When booking the tickets, we bitched and moaned that the price of the airfare back to Newark was so damn expensive due to Easter Vacation. We then noticed that, for only $15 more per person we can fly First Class instead of Economy-woot! It was the best plane ride I've ever taken, and I'm spoiled forever. Booze in real glasses, a good meal on real china, dessert, hot towels for your hands, automatic comfort seats......ahhhhh.........it made up for........
Flying into a soggy, cold, overcrowded New Jersey airport. We were delayed in Tampa due to weather, then waited on the runway in Tampa for 45 minutes, then circled around Baltimore for a half hour before we got home. The Mother-In-Law and Big C picked us up and were late due to traffic, so we didn't get home until after 10pm. The kitties got lots of loving and we've been unpacking and doing the mounds of laundry ever since. So, it was a well-deserved rest.
Hey, did I mention that the sex was amazing?
Well, it didn't get off to the best start, sorry to say. We get to the airport at around 6:30am, e-tickets in hand, and go off to the computerized check-in. After putting in the confirmation number several times with no success I finally saw a ticket agent, who informed me (after she input the number a few more times) that the etickets were for Sunday, April 16th, not for Monday morning. At that point, I started to freak out right there in line. I (stupidly) thought that April 16th was on a Monday morning, and I was also stupid enough not to check it before the weekend. The nice ticket lady said that they could put us on a flight that left at 3:55, and I promptly started to cry, blubbering that we were going on a cruise and that we needed to be on the boat by 4:30, and pleasepleaseohgodplease can't you put us on anything earlier?
Sean later said that he saw that whole vacation flash right before his eyes like a dying man. I, of course, felt like the dumbest ass in the whole world. I was lucky that I didn't curse and swear though-there were nuns next to us checking in and it would have been a no-brainer that God would get us for that one.
Luckily, the nice ticket lady gave us standby tickets for the 8 and 9 am flights, and booked us on the 12:30 flight. Don't worry, said Nice Ticket Lady, your luggage will be on whatever flight you board, so please hand over your credit card so I can charge you the $350 fee to change the flight and print out paper tickets (FUCK!). Then began the Great Race to the Gates to see if we can get on the flights. The first flight (at gate 81) was a no-go-overbooked, in fact. So, we run to Gate 120 (on the other side of the airport, naturally) to see if we can get on the 9am flight. And, we wait.
If anyone has never had the misfortune to fly standby, well....it SUCKS. The stress, waiting, staring down the other standby passengers aggressively, like the plane is a lioness in heat and you're horny lion; sending those "pick me" vibes to the attendant at the gate and shaking a human skull while doing a voodoo dance in front of the counter (okay, so that's just what I do). Not my idea of a good time. I'd rather have a colonic, to be honest (and my poop chute is an exit only, thankyouverymuch).
Well, that bone-shaking must have worked, because we got on the 9am flight. Seperated seats, of course, but who gives a shit. I of course, due to the laws of nature, get stuck behind this freaky woman who was asking everyone around us to change seats so she and her daughter could sit together. Naturally, nobody wanted to change (they both had middle seats), so she was bitching and moaning and slamming her back into her seat. At one point, as I was bending down to get something out of my bag, she sat back into her seat and hit me in the head. It wouldn't have been a problem if it hadn't happened again. Needless to say, she didn't like me much after I ripped her a new asshole.
We get to Tampa, make our way to the baggage claim area and wait like cows in front of the barnyard gate for our luggage. And waited. And WAITED. Finally, when we saw the same tired leather suitcase with the bright orange bow around the handle and the golf clubs go around for the 40th time, we figured out that our suitcase was MIA. So, off we trundle to the baggage area to file a claim, thanking our mothers silently for the reminder to pack extra underwear in our carry-on bag. But, lo and behold, our suitcase is sitting right outside the office-yay! Game on! We then find a cab and take the 20 minute ride to the port.
After this, the drama is over-really. Just the getting there was the shitty part.
We booked a suite for this cruise-not because I like to live above my means or anything like that. Honestly, it was cheap as hell-$800 per person for a suite with a balcony. Who am I to pass up a deal like that? Little did I know that there are some perks to these suites-namely, the ability to bypass the big snaking line and go to a special area to check-in. Whee-we were on the boat in 15 minutes! Let's unpack and hit the buffet and laugh at the people still waiting to get on the ship!
The weather was beautiful all week, the seas were calm, and I got a hell of a tan. Oh, yeah, and we fucked like rabbits all week-for some reason, tan lines seem to turn guys on. The room was nice, the balcony ROCKED (and yeah, Sean did moon me one morning as I was standing on the balcony, watching us plow through the Caribbean-I didn't have my camera though or else you'd all get to experience THAT). We sat with some pretty hilarious people, all of whom were from either NY State and Massachussets. And, we ate like pigs. Oh, yeah, did I mention the SEX!? Faboo. I'd forgotten what fun sex for pleasure is.
Our destinations were, overall, okay. Costa Maya was interesting (it's in Mexico, almost at the border of Belize), but Cozumel was kinda sad. We'd been there two years previously and it was hard to see the effects of Hurricane Wilma-one of the two concrete piers were completely destroyed, and there was a lot of rubble, trash and uprooted trees along the shoreline. We did some exploring, but mostly hung out on the ship.
Flying home was terrific-because we got to fly First Class. When booking the tickets, we bitched and moaned that the price of the airfare back to Newark was so damn expensive due to Easter Vacation. We then noticed that, for only $15 more per person we can fly First Class instead of Economy-woot! It was the best plane ride I've ever taken, and I'm spoiled forever. Booze in real glasses, a good meal on real china, dessert, hot towels for your hands, automatic comfort seats......ahhhhh.........it made up for........
Flying into a soggy, cold, overcrowded New Jersey airport. We were delayed in Tampa due to weather, then waited on the runway in Tampa for 45 minutes, then circled around Baltimore for a half hour before we got home. The Mother-In-Law and Big C picked us up and were late due to traffic, so we didn't get home until after 10pm. The kitties got lots of loving and we've been unpacking and doing the mounds of laundry ever since. So, it was a well-deserved rest.
Hey, did I mention that the sex was amazing?
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Helloooooooo........
Finally home. We were delayed an hour and a half due to bad weather in the Northeast and flew into Newark where it was rainy and 45 degress-a nice (!) change from the sunny 86 degrees we left behind in Tampa. Gotta love New Jersey in April.
However, eating a gourmet meal off of real china and glassware (with wine!) and having dessert in First Class just about made up from the above mentioned flight delay. That and the nice wide seats with the automatic controls. I think I'm in love.
Missed the cats, and it was mutual. I noticed that the cats only slept on my side of the bed (due to the extraordinary amounts of cat fur planted there) and they won't leave us alone.
Got Shelli a cute magnet for her collection. Must send in the mail (unless I can bring it to her first!!).
Cruise was great-didn't want to come home. Had LOTS of sex-real sex, not baby-making sex (although the stupid "Ooh, it's my fertile time" thought did creep in once or twice). Ate like a fucking pig. Got a nice tan. Bought some new goodies. Thoroughly enjoyed the suite and balcony........especially when Sean mooned me one afternoon as I was out there.
Will write a play-by-play tomorrow, after I get some sleep and try to get my land legs back on track.
Time to snuggle with the babies (and my man) in my own bed, and looking forward to it.
However, eating a gourmet meal off of real china and glassware (with wine!) and having dessert in First Class just about made up from the above mentioned flight delay. That and the nice wide seats with the automatic controls. I think I'm in love.
Missed the cats, and it was mutual. I noticed that the cats only slept on my side of the bed (due to the extraordinary amounts of cat fur planted there) and they won't leave us alone.
Got Shelli a cute magnet for her collection. Must send in the mail (unless I can bring it to her first!!).
Cruise was great-didn't want to come home. Had LOTS of sex-real sex, not baby-making sex (although the stupid "Ooh, it's my fertile time" thought did creep in once or twice). Ate like a fucking pig. Got a nice tan. Bought some new goodies. Thoroughly enjoyed the suite and balcony........especially when Sean mooned me one afternoon as I was out there.
Will write a play-by-play tomorrow, after I get some sleep and try to get my land legs back on track.
Time to snuggle with the babies (and my man) in my own bed, and looking forward to it.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Bon Voyage
Triduum is almost over. I've been singing almost every day since Palm Sunday (I had one day off on Tuesday), whether it be a rehearsal or Mass, as well as trying to fit in cleaning, washing clothes, packing, and running out for last-minute things for our trip. Oh, yeah, and making a cake and the poopie cupcakes, which turned out quite well-gotta try to take a pic of them tomorrow.
So far, everything with Big Important Clinic is doing well. I had my cycle day 3 bloodwork, which looks good, and yesterday I went for the bloodletting from hell-nine vials. NINE. Plus, I had to fast for the bloodwork (not to mention that it was Good Friday and I was fasting anyway. Sheesh.). I now have a lovely purple bruise the size of Iowa on my left arm. I'm sure it will go with the beautiful blue dress I bought for the cruise *grumble grumble* Then, we had to go to see Dr. Petite for our saline sonohystogram, and we were given the all-clear. Of course, I was crampy and leaking saline for the rest of the day, which wasn't fun-especially since I had to sing all day. Note to self: Have some brains and do not schedule invasive reproductive tests when you know you have to perform five hours later. It's just not that fun.
So now, we just need to take our IVF medication class on May 11th (I mean, what's the point? Oh, yeah, it's required.......), Sean's gotta spank the monkey for a sperm sample to test (and he can see if the hospital has any new porn since the last year's visit), and we're on our way. Fresh cycle #3. Whoopee.
It's weird-all weekend I've been thinking about the past year. This time, last year, I was bloated and miserable and in the middle of the two-week wait from hell from my first cycle, which we all know was a bust. Then, in the middle of everything yesterday, I realized that, had I not miscarried, I would have been due Monday, April 17th-coincidentally, the day we leave for our holiday. More than likely, Triduum this year probably wouldn't have happened for me-I might have been in the hospital either giving birth or recuperating from it.
Just another reason to cry on Good Friday.
I might not be back on until next week (sorry, much as I love you all, I will be sucking down margaritas poolside and will be waaay too drunk to type, or even string a sentence together-at least, that's my goal for the week), so-Happy Passover to those who celebrate, A Happy and Blessed Easter for my Christian friends, and, for those who celebrate neither-have a wonderful warm and sunny Spring week.
Peace out-see y'all on the 22nd or so.
So far, everything with Big Important Clinic is doing well. I had my cycle day 3 bloodwork, which looks good, and yesterday I went for the bloodletting from hell-nine vials. NINE. Plus, I had to fast for the bloodwork (not to mention that it was Good Friday and I was fasting anyway. Sheesh.). I now have a lovely purple bruise the size of Iowa on my left arm. I'm sure it will go with the beautiful blue dress I bought for the cruise *grumble grumble* Then, we had to go to see Dr. Petite for our saline sonohystogram, and we were given the all-clear. Of course, I was crampy and leaking saline for the rest of the day, which wasn't fun-especially since I had to sing all day. Note to self: Have some brains and do not schedule invasive reproductive tests when you know you have to perform five hours later. It's just not that fun.
So now, we just need to take our IVF medication class on May 11th (I mean, what's the point? Oh, yeah, it's required.......), Sean's gotta spank the monkey for a sperm sample to test (and he can see if the hospital has any new porn since the last year's visit), and we're on our way. Fresh cycle #3. Whoopee.
It's weird-all weekend I've been thinking about the past year. This time, last year, I was bloated and miserable and in the middle of the two-week wait from hell from my first cycle, which we all know was a bust. Then, in the middle of everything yesterday, I realized that, had I not miscarried, I would have been due Monday, April 17th-coincidentally, the day we leave for our holiday. More than likely, Triduum this year probably wouldn't have happened for me-I might have been in the hospital either giving birth or recuperating from it.
Just another reason to cry on Good Friday.
I might not be back on until next week (sorry, much as I love you all, I will be sucking down margaritas poolside and will be waaay too drunk to type, or even string a sentence together-at least, that's my goal for the week), so-Happy Passover to those who celebrate, A Happy and Blessed Easter for my Christian friends, and, for those who celebrate neither-have a wonderful warm and sunny Spring week.
Peace out-see y'all on the 22nd or so.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Back in the Saddle Again
Well, it's Cycle Day 1. Again.
I had to call Big Important Clinic today to let the on-call nurse that dear Auntie is here for a visit. I talked to a very nice nursey and gave her the goods, and she told me that (since we're still working on our "checklist" ie. bloodwork, saline sonohystogram, etc) I need to come in on Tuesday for Cycle Day 3 bloodwork, as a baseline. Whoopee-the sticking has begun. At least it's one-stop shopping for the bloodletting and the wanding.
I also have to call Dr. Petite's admin to schedule the saline sonohystogram. Hopefully we can squeeze it in (no pun intended there) before we leave for vacation.......otherwise, it's gonna seriously suck ass.
Seven days...................
Heh......I just felt like that freaky dead girl in "The Ring".
Seriously, though-I can't wait. I had to sing the whole of Palm Sunday weekend (5 masses), which is exhausting. This week coming up is Holy (Hell) Week-we have a huge rehearsal tomorrow night, a cantor rehearsal on Wednesday, then we're singing for Maundy Thursday, two services on Good Friday (the Veneration of the Cross and then a "living" Stations of the Cross, performed by our Youth Group), then the Easter Vigil on Saturday and Easter Mass on Sunday. Not to mention that, afterwards, we're driving to Sean's uncle and aunt's house in Pennsylvania for dinner. I'm going to be mush by then.
Speaking of Easter dinner-I've volunteered to bring dessert, which will be a carrot cake with cream-cheese frosting. We went to Williams-Sonoma (LOVE that store) last week, after the consult, and saw the cutest stuff there for the holiday. They had these adorable little chicks hatching out of their shells, all make out of white chocolate.....yummy. Anyway, they had these sweet plates there, with little bunnies on them (here's a pic-you can't see it very well, but there's little paw tracks on them), and I pointed them out to Sean. He told me that he would color the paw prints brown so they look like rabbit turds. Well..........
THEN he got it into his head that he is going to make a special "dessert" for Easter dinner. He's going to make chocolate cupcakes, dye some cream-cheese frosting green and ice them, sprinke some dyed-green coconut on top to look like grass, get some little chocolate bunnies to put on top, and then...........
Get some mini-chocolate chips and put them on so it looks like the rabbit pooed and then ran away.
He's serious, folks. He's already gone out and got half the ingredients.
The sick thing is, his family would think that it was hilarious. It will be the hit of the holiday.
And I thought that MY family was fucked-up. Go figure.
I had to call Big Important Clinic today to let the on-call nurse that dear Auntie is here for a visit. I talked to a very nice nursey and gave her the goods, and she told me that (since we're still working on our "checklist" ie. bloodwork, saline sonohystogram, etc) I need to come in on Tuesday for Cycle Day 3 bloodwork, as a baseline. Whoopee-the sticking has begun. At least it's one-stop shopping for the bloodletting and the wanding.
I also have to call Dr. Petite's admin to schedule the saline sonohystogram. Hopefully we can squeeze it in (no pun intended there) before we leave for vacation.......otherwise, it's gonna seriously suck ass.
Seven days...................
Heh......I just felt like that freaky dead girl in "The Ring".
Seriously, though-I can't wait. I had to sing the whole of Palm Sunday weekend (5 masses), which is exhausting. This week coming up is Holy (Hell) Week-we have a huge rehearsal tomorrow night, a cantor rehearsal on Wednesday, then we're singing for Maundy Thursday, two services on Good Friday (the Veneration of the Cross and then a "living" Stations of the Cross, performed by our Youth Group), then the Easter Vigil on Saturday and Easter Mass on Sunday. Not to mention that, afterwards, we're driving to Sean's uncle and aunt's house in Pennsylvania for dinner. I'm going to be mush by then.
Speaking of Easter dinner-I've volunteered to bring dessert, which will be a carrot cake with cream-cheese frosting. We went to Williams-Sonoma (LOVE that store) last week, after the consult, and saw the cutest stuff there for the holiday. They had these adorable little chicks hatching out of their shells, all make out of white chocolate.....yummy. Anyway, they had these sweet plates there, with little bunnies on them (here's a pic-you can't see it very well, but there's little paw tracks on them), and I pointed them out to Sean. He told me that he would color the paw prints brown so they look like rabbit turds. Well..........
THEN he got it into his head that he is going to make a special "dessert" for Easter dinner. He's going to make chocolate cupcakes, dye some cream-cheese frosting green and ice them, sprinke some dyed-green coconut on top to look like grass, get some little chocolate bunnies to put on top, and then...........
Get some mini-chocolate chips and put them on so it looks like the rabbit pooed and then ran away.
He's serious, folks. He's already gone out and got half the ingredients.
The sick thing is, his family would think that it was hilarious. It will be the hit of the holiday.
And I thought that MY family was fucked-up. Go figure.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Hope Springs Eternal (Yet Again)
Thanks ladies, for the encouraging words. It's hard not to get excited, but, I've been through this before. I just don't want to get my hopes up yet again.
I was feeling sort of disloyal after we got home, about changing doctors. Sean thinks that I'm insane-we're ultimately paying, albeit through insurance, for services, and if we can get them elsewhere in a better place I shouldn't feel bad about changing. Which, deep down, I do know (and I'm still switching). But, it's like changing your hairdresser-as much as you hate not getting an appointment and getting bullied into that "new" cut that you just can't style the same way at home as in the salon, you don't want to start over, either. Don't worry, I'll get over it.
It also seems as if that auld 'ho Auntie Flo should be here within the next day or so, which is great. If she shows up tomorrow (which I have the feeling she will), then I can go on Saturday morning to the Big Important Clinic to get my cycle day 3 bloodwork, and not have to miss any work-yay! One of the advantages of a big clinic-weekend hours and monitoring hours starting at 6:30am. Not to mention that coffee machine and pastry basket. Yeah, I know-the small things make me happy.
Everyone tells me that they have a "good feeling" about making the move; that, under the eye of a large, successful clinic in a teaching hospital I'll have the odds going for me. Realistically, it's probably true. Emotionally, well..........that's another issue. I'm afraid to get excited. Perhaps the stress of having to micromanage myself medically in Dr. Vest's office, as well as the wacky office hours (monitoring three days a week, the other two days closed by 11:30 am, and no weekends) added to the stress of having to do a cycle. It seems as if there's many more people to call if you have a question, not to mention a nurse on-call in the evenings. I guess it's the mark of a good, professional clinic-one that realizes that a woman's cycle doesn't comply with the 9-5, Monday through Friday mentality.
Okay, I admit it-I'm sort of excited. Scared shitless, but still excited.
I was feeling sort of disloyal after we got home, about changing doctors. Sean thinks that I'm insane-we're ultimately paying, albeit through insurance, for services, and if we can get them elsewhere in a better place I shouldn't feel bad about changing. Which, deep down, I do know (and I'm still switching). But, it's like changing your hairdresser-as much as you hate not getting an appointment and getting bullied into that "new" cut that you just can't style the same way at home as in the salon, you don't want to start over, either. Don't worry, I'll get over it.
It also seems as if that auld 'ho Auntie Flo should be here within the next day or so, which is great. If she shows up tomorrow (which I have the feeling she will), then I can go on Saturday morning to the Big Important Clinic to get my cycle day 3 bloodwork, and not have to miss any work-yay! One of the advantages of a big clinic-weekend hours and monitoring hours starting at 6:30am. Not to mention that coffee machine and pastry basket. Yeah, I know-the small things make me happy.
Everyone tells me that they have a "good feeling" about making the move; that, under the eye of a large, successful clinic in a teaching hospital I'll have the odds going for me. Realistically, it's probably true. Emotionally, well..........that's another issue. I'm afraid to get excited. Perhaps the stress of having to micromanage myself medically in Dr. Vest's office, as well as the wacky office hours (monitoring three days a week, the other two days closed by 11:30 am, and no weekends) added to the stress of having to do a cycle. It seems as if there's many more people to call if you have a question, not to mention a nurse on-call in the evenings. I guess it's the mark of a good, professional clinic-one that realizes that a woman's cycle doesn't comply with the 9-5, Monday through Friday mentality.
Okay, I admit it-I'm sort of excited. Scared shitless, but still excited.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
A Change in Scenery
In other non-reproductive news, it looks like I have, in addition to my lovely bout of sinusitis,
a small case of fungal infection of the toe (my big toe). When I got out of the shower this morning, I looked down, as I was drying off, and saw that a bit of my toe (close to the outside part) was discolored. I thought at first it was a bruise, since sometimes the little kids step on your feet accidentally. When I looked closer, though, it didn't look like that-it was soft and a little flaky, but didn't hurt. And, just for the record, I have extremely strong nails that never flake. Uh-oh. Although I've never personally had one, I know what they look like, so I freaked out and looked it up on Dr. Google. Fuckfuckfuck. There goes the pedicure for the cruise.
I called M up to pick her nursing brain (she also used to be a manicurist, pre-nursing days), and she told me that if it isn't spread across the nail, which it's not, you can soak the nail in hydrogen peroxide three times a day for about 5-10 minutes and it should clear up in about a week. I have to make sure that I keep it clean and dry, and disinfect everything-nail clippers, etc.-because you can spread the infection (apparently it's a type of ringworm-urgh). Just what I needed, right?
13 days until vacation. I'll be really pissed if I can't have pretty toes by then.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, on to today's consult. Well, what's to say?
Holy crap. What a difference. It's like comparing a beat-up Ford station wagon to a Mercedes.
The meeting went very well. We got there on time, checked out the waiting room-very large, with a coffee machine and pastries/muffins available for patients (as well as a mini-fridge). The staff was very friendly and professional. The doctor personally came out to get us, which I wasn't expecting; usually, a nurse does that. The RE is a very tiny, cute Asian lady in her 40's (all the RE's in the practice are women, which is cool), so let's call her Dr. Petite. Firm handshake, looked you in the eye and gave us a smile while she led us to her office.
She had our medical information right in front of us, and seemed like she took her time to review the records. She told us that she feels that the combo of drugs that I've been on (long Lupron protocol with Follistim, HcG trigger and PIO) is good, however, since it's been proven that I can produce a fair amount of eggs, to start at half the dosage I've been having, maybe stim a bit longer to let us get the most amount of mature eggs. The problem, she feels, is that my estrogen levels were way too high and that it might have impeded in implantation. She also feels that the lab played a big part as to our success. Yes, I know that they're trying to sell their lab; but, to be honest, it IS one of the best around. And, let's face it-the lab that Dr. Vest uses is okay, but nothing spectacular. Like comparing a Ford to a Mercedes.
So, Dr. Petite said that we can start a cycle in May, if we'd like. I did ask her about whether, due to the tubal issue, a laparoscopy is in order; she felt, since the original HSG showed that the bulging tube was spilling, that tube is still considered viable. She did explain that when you use a large amount of dye during an HSG (which they did), sometimes it will cause a bulge in the tube. She feels that if no other ultrasounds, especially during any of the stim phases of my cycles, showed a hydro that there's a good chance there either really isn't one, or that there is a small one but the tube is still opened, so it's okay. Just in case, she's going to schedule a saline sonohysterogram once I get my period, to see what's going on-which is a hell of a lot easier than another HSG or a lap-woot!
I had an ultrasound, done by the doctor (which we got to watch on a monitor that's right above the exam table-cool), where she pronounced that everything looks great-normal uterus, saw the ovaries and showed me where I ovulated. She also took some cultures (required), and we met with our patient coordinator who seems really nice, scheduled an IVF class (also required, but no big deal) and a financial person. Luckily, insurance will cover this, so it's just a formality.
So, now I have to get a shitload of bloodwork that apparently Dr. Vest never had me do-CMV, syphillis, Hepatitis B and C, HIV, Indirect Coombs, Varicella titer, Cystic Fibrosis profile, type and cross match, TSH, prolactin. Sean has to go for bloodwork too (hah!) and another spankfest at the semen analysis lab. I also have to get the results of my last Pap, and then get blood drawn on cycle day three and schedule the sonohysterogram. Whew! That seems like a hell of a lot of work, doesn't it? But, once we're done, we'll meet our IVF nurse, and we're back on the rollercoaster. I really wasn't expecting this. I was fully prepared to talk about surgery, what to expect, what would happen. I'm starting to feel like it's a new lease on my (reproductive) life.
The upshot was-if it were legal, I'd marry this woman. I liked her a lot-she took the time to answer our questions, really listened to us, and was very reassuring. She feels, especially since I got pregnant once before, that it will happen. I just find it kinda funny that I was orignally referred to her, couldn't go because of cost at the time, but was led back to her anyway. It looks like it was meant to be.
Perhaps a change of scenery is just-at least, in this case- what the doctor ordered.
a small case of fungal infection of the toe (my big toe). When I got out of the shower this morning, I looked down, as I was drying off, and saw that a bit of my toe (close to the outside part) was discolored. I thought at first it was a bruise, since sometimes the little kids step on your feet accidentally. When I looked closer, though, it didn't look like that-it was soft and a little flaky, but didn't hurt. And, just for the record, I have extremely strong nails that never flake. Uh-oh. Although I've never personally had one, I know what they look like, so I freaked out and looked it up on Dr. Google. Fuckfuckfuck. There goes the pedicure for the cruise.
I called M up to pick her nursing brain (she also used to be a manicurist, pre-nursing days), and she told me that if it isn't spread across the nail, which it's not, you can soak the nail in hydrogen peroxide three times a day for about 5-10 minutes and it should clear up in about a week. I have to make sure that I keep it clean and dry, and disinfect everything-nail clippers, etc.-because you can spread the infection (apparently it's a type of ringworm-urgh). Just what I needed, right?
13 days until vacation. I'll be really pissed if I can't have pretty toes by then.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, on to today's consult. Well, what's to say?
Holy crap. What a difference. It's like comparing a beat-up Ford station wagon to a Mercedes.
The meeting went very well. We got there on time, checked out the waiting room-very large, with a coffee machine and pastries/muffins available for patients (as well as a mini-fridge). The staff was very friendly and professional. The doctor personally came out to get us, which I wasn't expecting; usually, a nurse does that. The RE is a very tiny, cute Asian lady in her 40's (all the RE's in the practice are women, which is cool), so let's call her Dr. Petite. Firm handshake, looked you in the eye and gave us a smile while she led us to her office.
She had our medical information right in front of us, and seemed like she took her time to review the records. She told us that she feels that the combo of drugs that I've been on (long Lupron protocol with Follistim, HcG trigger and PIO) is good, however, since it's been proven that I can produce a fair amount of eggs, to start at half the dosage I've been having, maybe stim a bit longer to let us get the most amount of mature eggs. The problem, she feels, is that my estrogen levels were way too high and that it might have impeded in implantation. She also feels that the lab played a big part as to our success. Yes, I know that they're trying to sell their lab; but, to be honest, it IS one of the best around. And, let's face it-the lab that Dr. Vest uses is okay, but nothing spectacular. Like comparing a Ford to a Mercedes.
So, Dr. Petite said that we can start a cycle in May, if we'd like. I did ask her about whether, due to the tubal issue, a laparoscopy is in order; she felt, since the original HSG showed that the bulging tube was spilling, that tube is still considered viable. She did explain that when you use a large amount of dye during an HSG (which they did), sometimes it will cause a bulge in the tube. She feels that if no other ultrasounds, especially during any of the stim phases of my cycles, showed a hydro that there's a good chance there either really isn't one, or that there is a small one but the tube is still opened, so it's okay. Just in case, she's going to schedule a saline sonohysterogram once I get my period, to see what's going on-which is a hell of a lot easier than another HSG or a lap-woot!
I had an ultrasound, done by the doctor (which we got to watch on a monitor that's right above the exam table-cool), where she pronounced that everything looks great-normal uterus, saw the ovaries and showed me where I ovulated. She also took some cultures (required), and we met with our patient coordinator who seems really nice, scheduled an IVF class (also required, but no big deal) and a financial person. Luckily, insurance will cover this, so it's just a formality.
So, now I have to get a shitload of bloodwork that apparently Dr. Vest never had me do-CMV, syphillis, Hepatitis B and C, HIV, Indirect Coombs, Varicella titer, Cystic Fibrosis profile, type and cross match, TSH, prolactin. Sean has to go for bloodwork too (hah!) and another spankfest at the semen analysis lab. I also have to get the results of my last Pap, and then get blood drawn on cycle day three and schedule the sonohysterogram. Whew! That seems like a hell of a lot of work, doesn't it? But, once we're done, we'll meet our IVF nurse, and we're back on the rollercoaster. I really wasn't expecting this. I was fully prepared to talk about surgery, what to expect, what would happen. I'm starting to feel like it's a new lease on my (reproductive) life.
The upshot was-if it were legal, I'd marry this woman. I liked her a lot-she took the time to answer our questions, really listened to us, and was very reassuring. She feels, especially since I got pregnant once before, that it will happen. I just find it kinda funny that I was orignally referred to her, couldn't go because of cost at the time, but was led back to her anyway. It looks like it was meant to be.
Perhaps a change of scenery is just-at least, in this case- what the doctor ordered.
Monday, April 03, 2006
D-Day
Tomorrow's the big day.
Had to go to my primary doc today-turns out that I have a sinus infection, brought on by my allergies. Wonderful. So, I got my drugs and hopefully they'll work.
Anyways, that's all for now-I'll update when I get back from Big Important Clinic to let you all know what happened.
Had to go to my primary doc today-turns out that I have a sinus infection, brought on by my allergies. Wonderful. So, I got my drugs and hopefully they'll work.
Anyways, that's all for now-I'll update when I get back from Big Important Clinic to let you all know what happened.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Infertility IS funny, Dammit!
In making a consultation with A Big Important Clinic, there are tons of forms that need to be filled out. For our upcoming appointment next Tuesday, I had to fill out a twelve page medical application, release forms and also send out a copy of my medical records along with the completed application prior to the consult. As a part of the paperwork, there was a section of the application titled "Genetic Screening", to see if we were candidates for genetic counseling. I sort of knew my history (I have a cousin who is a hemophiliac and I was once tested for thalassemia), but I had to call the Mother-In-Law for Sean's history. The conversation went like this:
Me: "Okay, I have to ask you some questions for this medical consult to see if there are any genetic disorders-you just have to answer yes or no."
MIL: "Okay"
Me: "Thalassemia?"
MIL: "What's that?" (Yeah, and she's a nurse-really comforting, right?)
Me: "It's a blood disorder-a type of anemia that's inherited."
MIL: "Oh.........no"
Me: "Huntington's Chorea, Muscular Dystrophy or Neural Tube Defect?"
MIL: "No"
Me: "Cystic Fibrosis, Hemophilia, Tay Sachs, or Down Syndrome?"
MIL: "Nope"
Me: "Mental Retardation?"
MIL: ".........."
Me: "Hello?"
MIL: "Well........you DID marry him, you know"
Heh.
It's good to have a sense of humor when you're doing this, or else you're fucked.
Figuratively, of course-hence the need for the IVF consult.
HARHARHAHAHAA-I fucking slay me.
Me: "Okay, I have to ask you some questions for this medical consult to see if there are any genetic disorders-you just have to answer yes or no."
MIL: "Okay"
Me: "Thalassemia?"
MIL: "What's that?" (Yeah, and she's a nurse-really comforting, right?)
Me: "It's a blood disorder-a type of anemia that's inherited."
MIL: "Oh.........no"
Me: "Huntington's Chorea, Muscular Dystrophy or Neural Tube Defect?"
MIL: "No"
Me: "Cystic Fibrosis, Hemophilia, Tay Sachs, or Down Syndrome?"
MIL: "Nope"
Me: "Mental Retardation?"
MIL: ".........."
Me: "Hello?"
MIL: "Well........you DID marry him, you know"
Heh.
It's good to have a sense of humor when you're doing this, or else you're fucked.
Figuratively, of course-hence the need for the IVF consult.
HARHARHAHAHAA-I fucking slay me.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Ba-Da Choo Choo
The Dutch Oven Olympic Event originally scheduled ended up being a draw. I think we both burned our nosehairs out due to the gas. However, the next day was when all the tasty goodness smelling stuff really came out.........just in time for Mass. Grrreat.....
I have to admit something horrible, and I can't even believe that I'm going to post it; but, here goes:
If I'm teaching and I have gas, I'll walk around the classroom, let one loose behind the kids, then watch as they totally turn on each other to find out who farted. It's actually pretty hilarious, especially with third and fourth graders.
There, I said it. And, depending on which school I'm in, it's quite satisfying.
___________________________________________________________
On Sunday, after Mass, we went to my aunt and uncle's for my cousin Joseph's 2nd birthday party. The theme was "Thomas the Tank Engine", which he is currently obsessed with. He runs around and yells "Ba-Da CHOO CHOO" whenever the show goes on the air. Well, the house was filled with kids-my aunt has four nephews, Gigi had a friend there. Presents were opened, and I totally couldn't deal with it. I started out okay, then started having a small panic attack, made up a fictitious headache, and told Sean we had to live NOW. Now I know why I should swear off children's parties. It's getting harder and harder to be around kids lately. Especially since it's still unclear as to whether or not we'll have children of our own.
15 days and counting until the consult with BigImportantClinic. And I can't wait. I'd never have thought that I would miss infertilty treatment. Actually, it isn't the treatment itself that I miss, but the hope that it brings with it.
If you could call sticking yourself with needles, getting felt up by a wand monkey and becoming a hormonal, fat mess hopeful. But, when IVF is your only option, I guess hope is all you've got.
I have to admit something horrible, and I can't even believe that I'm going to post it; but, here goes:
If I'm teaching and I have gas, I'll walk around the classroom, let one loose behind the kids, then watch as they totally turn on each other to find out who farted. It's actually pretty hilarious, especially with third and fourth graders.
There, I said it. And, depending on which school I'm in, it's quite satisfying.
___________________________________________________________
On Sunday, after Mass, we went to my aunt and uncle's for my cousin Joseph's 2nd birthday party. The theme was "Thomas the Tank Engine", which he is currently obsessed with. He runs around and yells "Ba-Da CHOO CHOO" whenever the show goes on the air. Well, the house was filled with kids-my aunt has four nephews, Gigi had a friend there. Presents were opened, and I totally couldn't deal with it. I started out okay, then started having a small panic attack, made up a fictitious headache, and told Sean we had to live NOW. Now I know why I should swear off children's parties. It's getting harder and harder to be around kids lately. Especially since it's still unclear as to whether or not we'll have children of our own.
15 days and counting until the consult with BigImportantClinic. And I can't wait. I'd never have thought that I would miss infertilty treatment. Actually, it isn't the treatment itself that I miss, but the hope that it brings with it.
If you could call sticking yourself with needles, getting felt up by a wand monkey and becoming a hormonal, fat mess hopeful. But, when IVF is your only option, I guess hope is all you've got.
Saturday, March 18, 2006
Oh, Gawd.......
Please pump my stomach........please.....
Had the small, requisite bit of CB&C (corned beef and cabbage), salmon, boiled potato and carrot so as to not offend the mother-in-law. I do have to give props out to her, though-she is a good cook. She even made boiled meat and veg taste good, which alone is a feat considering how it's cooked-blech. Gimme a plate of ziti with sugo and a hunk of crusty panelle any day-at least it has some taste to it. But, it wasn't that bad, really.
She even made homemade soda bread, which was damn good. I had a few slices of that, too-yummy.
Which is why I think that my stomach will explode any minute. I need a colonic, anything to remove the gas pains. I even had to UNBUTTON MY PANTS..........yikes. I need to SERIOUSLY go back on the South Beach Diet-this is ridiculous. I'm not going to be able to fit into my faboo new dress I bought today for the formal night on our cruise. I can barely fit into my comfy jeans right now, and the thought of getting into a bathing suit in four weeks is enough to get me scrambling for a Xanax. In other words, ladies-I'm seriously fucked. If I don't lose 10 pounds, I might as well get two Hefty Cinch-Sacks and some kitchen twine and make myself a tankini, because that's about all I'm gonna fit into right now.
Of course, Sean had three full helpings, along with cake and two cups of coffee (Irish Creme, 'natch). I almost left him at his mothers so she can enjoy the noxious fumes that will undoubtedly start to leak from his rectum. At least I didn't put the new comforter set on the extra bed yet. That way, if he gets kicked out of the bed tonight, we won't have the EPA knocking on our door and declaring that lovely new set part of a toxic waste area.
Although, at this moment I'm starting to feel a "rumble in the Bronx", so I bet that I give Sean a run for his money, flatulence-ly speaking. So if he tries to smoke me out, he's in for a big shock.
Let the Dutch-Oven Olympic Games Begin! If I'm still alive tomorrow, I'll post the results. If not..........well, I'm sure it will be on the news.......
Had the small, requisite bit of CB&C (corned beef and cabbage), salmon, boiled potato and carrot so as to not offend the mother-in-law. I do have to give props out to her, though-she is a good cook. She even made boiled meat and veg taste good, which alone is a feat considering how it's cooked-blech. Gimme a plate of ziti with sugo and a hunk of crusty panelle any day-at least it has some taste to it. But, it wasn't that bad, really.
She even made homemade soda bread, which was damn good. I had a few slices of that, too-yummy.
Which is why I think that my stomach will explode any minute. I need a colonic, anything to remove the gas pains. I even had to UNBUTTON MY PANTS..........yikes. I need to SERIOUSLY go back on the South Beach Diet-this is ridiculous. I'm not going to be able to fit into my faboo new dress I bought today for the formal night on our cruise. I can barely fit into my comfy jeans right now, and the thought of getting into a bathing suit in four weeks is enough to get me scrambling for a Xanax. In other words, ladies-I'm seriously fucked. If I don't lose 10 pounds, I might as well get two Hefty Cinch-Sacks and some kitchen twine and make myself a tankini, because that's about all I'm gonna fit into right now.
Of course, Sean had three full helpings, along with cake and two cups of coffee (Irish Creme, 'natch). I almost left him at his mothers so she can enjoy the noxious fumes that will undoubtedly start to leak from his rectum. At least I didn't put the new comforter set on the extra bed yet. That way, if he gets kicked out of the bed tonight, we won't have the EPA knocking on our door and declaring that lovely new set part of a toxic waste area.
Although, at this moment I'm starting to feel a "rumble in the Bronx", so I bet that I give Sean a run for his money, flatulence-ly speaking. So if he tries to smoke me out, he's in for a big shock.
Let the Dutch-Oven Olympic Games Begin! If I'm still alive tomorrow, I'll post the results. If not..........well, I'm sure it will be on the news.......
Bleh-What a week.
Yeah, I'm still here. There really hasn't been much to write about.
No, that's really not totally true-there has been a lot, but it's work related and I swore that I wouldn't post about anything job related just in case. In a nutshell, things at one of my schools is getting out of control, there is no admin support and it's becoming a toxic environment. My director won't transfer me, so, it's either deal with it or look for a job in another district.
You know it's bad when an para tells you that the principal told her that "in our school there are three groups: 'my' girls, Mr. VP's 'girls', and the group that nobody else likes".
Nice, huh? Can you guess which group I'm in? Can you? Let's just say that I'm not anyone's "girl". Not that I care anyway. I'm not one for being in a group-I like it my own way.
Needless to say, it's been stressful at the jobfront. I'm not really in the position right now to get a job in another district, not with infertility treatments looming over us. As a tenured teacher, I'm in a much better position when it comes to this-if I were non-tenured and doing IVF, I'd probably be let go at the end of the year due to numerous absences. Plus, I want to finish my graduate degree (only 20 credits-three semesters-to go); that way, I'm more marketable when looking for a new job (and I can get more money). Sigh.........just another worry to add on to the pile.
Be back later-we're going to the mother-in-law's for a belated Corned Beef and Cabbage dinner (I can't stand the stuff....must be the Italian in me)-can you tell that I'm excited?
I'd rather poke a badger with a spoon right now, actually.
No, that's really not totally true-there has been a lot, but it's work related and I swore that I wouldn't post about anything job related just in case. In a nutshell, things at one of my schools is getting out of control, there is no admin support and it's becoming a toxic environment. My director won't transfer me, so, it's either deal with it or look for a job in another district.
You know it's bad when an para tells you that the principal told her that "in our school there are three groups: 'my' girls, Mr. VP's 'girls', and the group that nobody else likes".
Nice, huh? Can you guess which group I'm in? Can you? Let's just say that I'm not anyone's "girl". Not that I care anyway. I'm not one for being in a group-I like it my own way.
Needless to say, it's been stressful at the jobfront. I'm not really in the position right now to get a job in another district, not with infertility treatments looming over us. As a tenured teacher, I'm in a much better position when it comes to this-if I were non-tenured and doing IVF, I'd probably be let go at the end of the year due to numerous absences. Plus, I want to finish my graduate degree (only 20 credits-three semesters-to go); that way, I'm more marketable when looking for a new job (and I can get more money). Sigh.........just another worry to add on to the pile.
Be back later-we're going to the mother-in-law's for a belated Corned Beef and Cabbage dinner (I can't stand the stuff....must be the Italian in me)-can you tell that I'm excited?
I'd rather poke a badger with a spoon right now, actually.
Friday, March 10, 2006
RESOLVE this!
I've decided to start something weekly, just for fun. Some people are doing the Photo Friday thing (which looks pretty cool-once we get the new desktop I'll have to start to participate), so I thought that perhaps I'll also do something.
It's going to be called the "Fuck You, Jobu!" Award. If you're not sure what I'm talking about, there's a prior post I did about my buddy Jobu. So, it's for that special someone out there who's pissing you off, whether it be a boss, friend, enemy, or a general all-around asshole. You can award it to whoever or whatever in your life pisses you the fuck off. Yeah, it's childish, but I guarantee screaming "FUCK YOU, JOBU!!!" a few times will make you feel better (if not, some Valium might be sufficient) and give you a little giggle.
I thought that this first award should go to to Mr. Sensitivity himself, Joe Issacs, RESOLVE President and CEO, for this interesting little interview which appeared in Newsweek. Supposedly, Mr. Issacs contends that his remarks were taken "out of context". Riiiight........
He pretty much said that younger women undergoing IF have infertility problems (which I guess I am, since I started trying this bullshit when I was 29) because they drink, smoke, are promiscuous, and are overweight. That's akin to saying that old adage, pre-Kinsey, that kissing would make you pregnant. What a freaking retard. If that were true, I'd be able to populate a small country by now, and I'd be picking my uterus up off the floor from overuse.
Now, that's not to say that there was total untruth in the article. Yeah, there are much more infertilte women, and infertile younger women, in society today. But, isn't it also true that the testing methods today as opposed to even 10 years ago are more sophisticated? It took my grandmother (my dad's mom) seven years to get pregnant with my dad, who's an only child due to miscarriages afterwards. And, that was almost 70 years ago, when there was basically no way to know why people couldn't get pregnant. Medical testing has gotten so sensitive that you can tell 5 days before your period is due whether or not you're up the pole, so why, pray tell, wouldn't we be able to diagnose infertility issues earlier in women?
What about the women, like me, with tubal infertility? Yes, many cases of tubal infertility are caused by undiagnosed STD's, but not in my case. I remember distinctly asking Dr. Vest about that, and he said that a lot of tubal cases are as simple as an undiagnosed bowel infection, ruptured appendix, or any kind of infection or disease that is resistent to antibiotics. And, that's not even getting into genetic or congenital disorders. So, Joe, are you implying that a 25 year old with uterine/tubal abnormalities who got it from a mother or grandmother who took DES is at fault? What about Premature Ovarian Failure? PCOS? Secondary Infertility? Environmental factors? Paleeze.....
Maybe I'm overreacting, but it's like telling a woman who was date-raped that she "brought it on herself". How neandrathal is that? And, people, this guy is the PRESIDENT AND CEO OF A NATIONAL INFERTILITY GROUP. Un-fucking-belivable. They should nail his balls to the wall after that fiasco. I almost fell over when I read the article. It's a slap in the face of every woman and man (because, yeah, there are infertile men too) who have gone through hell and back to have a child. And, I think that it's sad that there are so many people who have actually given money to this organization to help other infertiles, when their own president has such ass-backwards thinking. And, didn't try to do enough damage control when the article first came out. Just blamed the media, saying that he was misquoted. Boo-fucking-hoo.
Regardless as to whether or not the article was written out of context, the fact remains that he, as the public face of an organization, needs to be extremely careful that what he says in public can't be misconstrued. Many people have preconceived (heh, there's that word again....) notions about the hows and whys of infertilty, and this guy just validated them all. Yeah, let's try to lobby for the Family Building Act in Congress now, folks. Like those Senators and Congressmen who are against it won't be using that article as fuel for their fire.
Yeah, I smoked, years and years ago. I socially drink. I'm not (and never did) sleep around or got an STD. And, the 10 or so pounds I put on is due to fertility medication. So, what's my excuse for not having children? I guess I'm not the "norm", according to the article.
So, Joe, a hearty "FUCK YOU, JO(E)BU" goes out to you and your stupidity. Hopefully none of these infertiles will ever find out where you live, otherwise I'm sure you'll have tons of dog shit on your doorstep.
Now, go out and get me another carton of Marlboro's while I finish this case of beer and bucket o' wings before the merchant marines get here for a good 'ol time later. Oh, yeah, don't forget to get the Trojans, either-I want to preserve my fertility, dammit!
It's going to be called the "Fuck You, Jobu!" Award. If you're not sure what I'm talking about, there's a prior post I did about my buddy Jobu. So, it's for that special someone out there who's pissing you off, whether it be a boss, friend, enemy, or a general all-around asshole. You can award it to whoever or whatever in your life pisses you the fuck off. Yeah, it's childish, but I guarantee screaming "FUCK YOU, JOBU!!!" a few times will make you feel better (if not, some Valium might be sufficient) and give you a little giggle.
I thought that this first award should go to to Mr. Sensitivity himself, Joe Issacs, RESOLVE President and CEO, for this interesting little interview which appeared in Newsweek. Supposedly, Mr. Issacs contends that his remarks were taken "out of context". Riiiight........
He pretty much said that younger women undergoing IF have infertility problems (which I guess I am, since I started trying this bullshit when I was 29) because they drink, smoke, are promiscuous, and are overweight. That's akin to saying that old adage, pre-Kinsey, that kissing would make you pregnant. What a freaking retard. If that were true, I'd be able to populate a small country by now, and I'd be picking my uterus up off the floor from overuse.
Now, that's not to say that there was total untruth in the article. Yeah, there are much more infertilte women, and infertile younger women, in society today. But, isn't it also true that the testing methods today as opposed to even 10 years ago are more sophisticated? It took my grandmother (my dad's mom) seven years to get pregnant with my dad, who's an only child due to miscarriages afterwards. And, that was almost 70 years ago, when there was basically no way to know why people couldn't get pregnant. Medical testing has gotten so sensitive that you can tell 5 days before your period is due whether or not you're up the pole, so why, pray tell, wouldn't we be able to diagnose infertility issues earlier in women?
What about the women, like me, with tubal infertility? Yes, many cases of tubal infertility are caused by undiagnosed STD's, but not in my case. I remember distinctly asking Dr. Vest about that, and he said that a lot of tubal cases are as simple as an undiagnosed bowel infection, ruptured appendix, or any kind of infection or disease that is resistent to antibiotics. And, that's not even getting into genetic or congenital disorders. So, Joe, are you implying that a 25 year old with uterine/tubal abnormalities who got it from a mother or grandmother who took DES is at fault? What about Premature Ovarian Failure? PCOS? Secondary Infertility? Environmental factors? Paleeze.....
Maybe I'm overreacting, but it's like telling a woman who was date-raped that she "brought it on herself". How neandrathal is that? And, people, this guy is the PRESIDENT AND CEO OF A NATIONAL INFERTILITY GROUP. Un-fucking-belivable. They should nail his balls to the wall after that fiasco. I almost fell over when I read the article. It's a slap in the face of every woman and man (because, yeah, there are infertile men too) who have gone through hell and back to have a child. And, I think that it's sad that there are so many people who have actually given money to this organization to help other infertiles, when their own president has such ass-backwards thinking. And, didn't try to do enough damage control when the article first came out. Just blamed the media, saying that he was misquoted. Boo-fucking-hoo.
Regardless as to whether or not the article was written out of context, the fact remains that he, as the public face of an organization, needs to be extremely careful that what he says in public can't be misconstrued. Many people have preconceived (heh, there's that word again....) notions about the hows and whys of infertilty, and this guy just validated them all. Yeah, let's try to lobby for the Family Building Act in Congress now, folks. Like those Senators and Congressmen who are against it won't be using that article as fuel for their fire.
Yeah, I smoked, years and years ago. I socially drink. I'm not (and never did) sleep around or got an STD. And, the 10 or so pounds I put on is due to fertility medication. So, what's my excuse for not having children? I guess I'm not the "norm", according to the article.
So, Joe, a hearty "FUCK YOU, JO(E)BU" goes out to you and your stupidity. Hopefully none of these infertiles will ever find out where you live, otherwise I'm sure you'll have tons of dog shit on your doorstep.
Now, go out and get me another carton of Marlboro's while I finish this case of beer and bucket o' wings before the merchant marines get here for a good 'ol time later. Oh, yeah, don't forget to get the Trojans, either-I want to preserve my fertility, dammit!
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
I did'n do it.......I was dead at the time
Heh-you all are funny. I really didn't mean the last post to be funny-it was just stream-of-consciousness writing. I reread it today and laughed my ass off, though. It's like "drunk dialing" a former boyfriend, but it's put down for posterity.....
Well, there was no hangover today. Which is unfortunate because:
(1). That means I didn't drink nearly as much as I should have, and
(2). It doesn't excuse the shit-ass mood I was in today at school.
I gave 7 kids detention today, because, well.........they were acting like assholes. Typical third-graders acting like kindergarteners (actually, my kindergarteners don't act like they do). I teach in a "cafetorium", which is a cafeteria by day and, when special events allow, an auditorium when needed. So, I teach on the stage all day (except for lunch periods-could you imagine?), and the kid sit on the stage, legs (ideally) folded. I'm usually pretty strict about this, since I'm supposedly teaching singing, and you can't properly sing while lying on your belly, right? I gave one girl detention because she was lying all over the floor of the stage while I was teaching a lesson, like she was watching reruns of "Full House". Fuck that. She was pissed (I heard the famous "I din' do it!" or "Wha' I do?" about three hundred times today), but I could care less.
The other kids got detention because they got snotty with me. I definitely don't take that shit. Especially not from 8 and 9 year olds. So, they're screwed. And, I felt better since I got to yell and scream at them, because, in general, the third graders are lazy as hell. Heh.
Otherwise, I'm still in a shit-ass mood. Tonight, I'm meeting a friend from college for dinner and drinks. I haven't seen her since September, and I miss her-she's so funny and smart and gorgeous -seriously. When we were in school we hated going out with her to the local hangouts because, compared to Irene, we were the ugly step-sisters. The boys literally tripped over themselves trying to get to her, with her strawberry-blond hair, big boobs, petite figure and green eyes. Plus, she's a dirty-birdie-she once shaved her pubes in the shape of a heart for a boyfriend as a Valentine's Day present. Heh-my kinda woman.
I'll update more when I get home (probably drunk again). You guys rock.
P.S. I think I got my period-at least, it looks strangely like a period, minus cramping..........we'll see if this is actually the real thing this time and not a dress rehearsal.
Well, there was no hangover today. Which is unfortunate because:
(1). That means I didn't drink nearly as much as I should have, and
(2). It doesn't excuse the shit-ass mood I was in today at school.
I gave 7 kids detention today, because, well.........they were acting like assholes. Typical third-graders acting like kindergarteners (actually, my kindergarteners don't act like they do). I teach in a "cafetorium", which is a cafeteria by day and, when special events allow, an auditorium when needed. So, I teach on the stage all day (except for lunch periods-could you imagine?), and the kid sit on the stage, legs (ideally) folded. I'm usually pretty strict about this, since I'm supposedly teaching singing, and you can't properly sing while lying on your belly, right? I gave one girl detention because she was lying all over the floor of the stage while I was teaching a lesson, like she was watching reruns of "Full House". Fuck that. She was pissed (I heard the famous "I din' do it!" or "Wha' I do?" about three hundred times today), but I could care less.
The other kids got detention because they got snotty with me. I definitely don't take that shit. Especially not from 8 and 9 year olds. So, they're screwed. And, I felt better since I got to yell and scream at them, because, in general, the third graders are lazy as hell. Heh.
Otherwise, I'm still in a shit-ass mood. Tonight, I'm meeting a friend from college for dinner and drinks. I haven't seen her since September, and I miss her-she's so funny and smart and gorgeous -seriously. When we were in school we hated going out with her to the local hangouts because, compared to Irene, we were the ugly step-sisters. The boys literally tripped over themselves trying to get to her, with her strawberry-blond hair, big boobs, petite figure and green eyes. Plus, she's a dirty-birdie-she once shaved her pubes in the shape of a heart for a boyfriend as a Valentine's Day present. Heh-my kinda woman.
I'll update more when I get home (probably drunk again). You guys rock.
P.S. I think I got my period-at least, it looks strangely like a period, minus cramping..........we'll see if this is actually the real thing this time and not a dress rehearsal.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Life Just Sucks
Today, I go to my crap school, and my friend, the art teacher, tells me that she's 10 weeks pregnant.
Damn.
But, I was glad that she told me privately, before she told the rest of the faculty. It still felt like a knife in my heart, though.
So, now that's two people that I know. One is a friend of mine who's pregnant after a miscarriage. She doesn't know that I know yet, but I saw it on a board I frequent, so I'll wait until she feels comfortable telling me. Well, they say that these things come in "threes"........so, who's the third?
Me.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! GOTCHA!!!!!! That was fucking funny. And, it's not even April Fool's Day yet!!
Whew *wiping eyes*..........Rule Number 1-Don't Blog when you've had a lot of red wine.
In other poonanny-related news-my consult for my second opinion at Big Important Clinic is scheduled for April 4, 2005, at 10 am. Perhaps I'll finally get some answers.
Yeah, right.
Can you tell I'm a cynical bitch? Must be that I'm still waiting for the old bitch to show up. My cycles have been a little long since failed IVF#2. I'm now on cycle day 36, and I think that perhaps it should be here within a day or so. Maybe, since I've had the equivalent of three years worth of eggs sucked out of my ovaries, I'm going through early menopause. My mom started the 'pause at 37 (she just finally ended it last year at age 54), so it's not totally inconceivable.
Heh-I made a funny.........."inconceivable". How appropriate.
Gotta go and pass out now-don't want to be hung over for school tomorrow.
Later
Damn.
But, I was glad that she told me privately, before she told the rest of the faculty. It still felt like a knife in my heart, though.
So, now that's two people that I know. One is a friend of mine who's pregnant after a miscarriage. She doesn't know that I know yet, but I saw it on a board I frequent, so I'll wait until she feels comfortable telling me. Well, they say that these things come in "threes"........so, who's the third?
Me.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! GOTCHA!!!!!! That was fucking funny. And, it's not even April Fool's Day yet!!
Whew *wiping eyes*..........Rule Number 1-Don't Blog when you've had a lot of red wine.
In other poonanny-related news-my consult for my second opinion at Big Important Clinic is scheduled for April 4, 2005, at 10 am. Perhaps I'll finally get some answers.
Yeah, right.
Can you tell I'm a cynical bitch? Must be that I'm still waiting for the old bitch to show up. My cycles have been a little long since failed IVF#2. I'm now on cycle day 36, and I think that perhaps it should be here within a day or so. Maybe, since I've had the equivalent of three years worth of eggs sucked out of my ovaries, I'm going through early menopause. My mom started the 'pause at 37 (she just finally ended it last year at age 54), so it's not totally inconceivable.
Heh-I made a funny.........."inconceivable". How appropriate.
Gotta go and pass out now-don't want to be hung over for school tomorrow.
Later
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Popping Cherries
I've finally got myself a makeover! I think it's rather appropriate, don't you? Special props go out to Denise at Moodswing Creations. Thanks-you rock! Check out their button at the bottom of my blog, by the counter.
Anywho, it's that time of the year again-Lent. The period before Easter that's about being, prayerful, penitent and charitable. Since I'm really feeling neither this time around I've been wondering what I should use as my Lenten sacrifice this year. For you non-Catholics who are unfamiliar with this tradition, and lest you think that we ritually slaughter people or small woodland animals during the 40 day period, let me 'splain ("Looocy...."). As Catholics, we are taught that it is good to make a symbolic "sacrifice" during Lent-you give up something you would really miss-chocolate, for example. It's like you're saying "no" to something you really enjoy in order to say "yes" to God.
Since my Lenten sacrifice last year didn't seem to work out all that well, I really debated as to whether to do anything at all. So, I've temporarily decided to give up the 10lbs or so that I've gained due to all my shots. Really, it is a sacrifice, since I'll have to give up breads and pastas, and ice cream, so id does count. I ws going to try to give up being a bitter infertile bitch, but.....well..........you know how it is.......
I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one who gets hot and bothered (and not in a good way) with those stupid "Preferred Pregnancy/Mommy Parking" spaces. I actually parked in one yesterday-there!! Fuck you, Jobu!! *giving rude hand gesture* Hey, it wasn't like I ran over a pregnant woman to get it. So dumb........
I've realized that I'm slowly becoming bitter and jaded about this whole infertility thing. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism, or perhaps it's just because I've never really allowed myself to in the first place. It's not to say that I've completely lost hope, because I haven't. It's just, now that I'm coming up to my four year anniversary of "TTC #1", I'm more realistic. I know that things are more likely not to happen that happen. I've lost my innocence.....or, sexually speaking, my cherry has been popped. And, I didn't get the "Big O", cuddle, champers and smoke afterwards
That just sucks.
Infertility sure is an emotional cheapstake.
Anywho, it's that time of the year again-Lent. The period before Easter that's about being, prayerful, penitent and charitable. Since I'm really feeling neither this time around I've been wondering what I should use as my Lenten sacrifice this year. For you non-Catholics who are unfamiliar with this tradition, and lest you think that we ritually slaughter people or small woodland animals during the 40 day period, let me 'splain ("Looocy...."). As Catholics, we are taught that it is good to make a symbolic "sacrifice" during Lent-you give up something you would really miss-chocolate, for example. It's like you're saying "no" to something you really enjoy in order to say "yes" to God.
Since my Lenten sacrifice last year didn't seem to work out all that well, I really debated as to whether to do anything at all. So, I've temporarily decided to give up the 10lbs or so that I've gained due to all my shots. Really, it is a sacrifice, since I'll have to give up breads and pastas, and ice cream, so id does count. I ws going to try to give up being a bitter infertile bitch, but.....well..........you know how it is.......
I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one who gets hot and bothered (and not in a good way) with those stupid "Preferred Pregnancy/Mommy Parking" spaces. I actually parked in one yesterday-there!! Fuck you, Jobu!! *giving rude hand gesture* Hey, it wasn't like I ran over a pregnant woman to get it. So dumb........
I've realized that I'm slowly becoming bitter and jaded about this whole infertility thing. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism, or perhaps it's just because I've never really allowed myself to in the first place. It's not to say that I've completely lost hope, because I haven't. It's just, now that I'm coming up to my four year anniversary of "TTC #1", I'm more realistic. I know that things are more likely not to happen that happen. I've lost my innocence.....or, sexually speaking, my cherry has been popped. And, I didn't get the "Big O", cuddle, champers and smoke afterwards
That just sucks.
Infertility sure is an emotional cheapstake.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)