That pretty much sums up how I've been feeling lately.
Today was actually a good day, as far as work goes. Except for the usual baby/pregancy talk, which inevitably happens in a faculty room. This time, it's a girl who was talking about how she and her husband are going to start trying in the summer, and how she's afraid that it won't happen right away, blah blah blee......so then it ultimately starts the "well, your egg quality goes down the older you get...." conversation, and how it was SO HARD when they didn't get pregnant right away and they thought SOMETHING WAS WRONG with them when it didn't happen that first month......and how they feel SO BADLY for me and my "situation"......
You know the drill. I don't need to go on, right? I just crammed my sandwich in my mouth to refrain from motherfucking them up and down, and got the hell out of Dodge.
Then, another teacher, a mother of three, who remarked on the bracelets that I was wearing: "God, how do you find the time to accesorize in the morning? I'm lucky I have clean underwear on.....". Yeah, well, when you're barren, it gives me a lot of time in the mornings to lounge out in my silk robe and ostrich-trimmed mules, idly picking out jewelry from a muscled hunk wearing no shirt.....NOT.
And, the third.......well, I just don't know how to feel about this. I (stupidly) did an audition at a theatre where I used to do A LOT of work. I stopped auditioning there when I was very obviously passed over for a part due to a snit between a director and producer, so it was a "tit for tat" situation. Well, my stupid ass decided to give it another try, and I was called back for a great part. A part that I did a really great callback for. And, didn't get the part-which, isn't the shitty part. The shitty part is that they offered it to a friend of mine, who DIDN'T EVEN AUDITION FOR THAT PART. She was going for another one, so they gave her a consolation prize, basically. Which she decided to accept. After she told me that if she didn't get XYZ part (the one she really wanted) she didn't want to do a show. Yeah, that lasted long. She actually emailed me and told me, and I really don't know how to respond to it. On one hand, I'm really upset and I want to call her out on it, but on the other hand, would I do the same thing? Probably not-I'm not in the habit for accepting roles that I'm not sure I'm right for. Plus, we're supposed to go out to a black-tie thingie with them on Sunday, and quite frankly, if I hadn't already spent money on a dress I'd tell her to piss off.
And, let's add into the mix that my HSG and saline sonogram are on Wednesday, I'm on Doryx again and it's seriously fucking up my stomach. I can't even take it with yogurt, since it says on the bottle not to take vitamins, antacids or dairy within two hours of taking the antibiotics.
*Sigh* It just seems a bit much sometimes, and sometimes just going from day to day is an exhausting chore.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Dude, I Can't Make This Shit Up Myself
I had one of my kindergarten classes on Tuesday afternoon. Their teacher, who is also a friend of mine, has a daughter who is a Music Ed. major in undergrad. Her daughter (let's call her Smiley, because she's cheerful and always has a smile on her face) has come into my classroom from time to time with her boyfriend (another Music Ed major) during her school breaks to observe the goings-on in my classes and pick up any pointers (which are ALWAYS eye-opening, I'm sure, since I'm a nutjob). Well, Smiley is now doing her senior field work, in preparation for graduating next month, and has been placed in a suburban district that's close to NYC. She started out in the high school and is now in the elementary schools (which is pretty typical in a program, since here in NJ Music, Art and PE teacher licenses are valid for teaching Kindergarten through 12th grade). So, her mother (my teacher friend) tells me that Smiley is starting to realize just how tough Elementary Ed can be, and how you need to be on your toes at all times.
She told her mother that she was observing the Cooperating Teacher one day last week in a primary lesson (I'm not sure if it was Kindergarten or 1st Grade), and she was teaching the song "Little Bunny Foo-Foo" to the class. She gets through the first two stanzas of the song with the children, then, just before she gets to the last verse (where Little Bunny Foo-Foo is turned into a Goon),she asks the class, "So, boys and girls, what do you think happens to Little Bunny Foo-Foo?"
And, one of the children promptly raises his hand and says:
"Little Bunny Foo-Foo's fucked!"
I swear to you, this is TRUE. Even I'm not that creative.
This, my friends, is the "educational miracle" that is the No Child Left Behind Law. Way to go, Dubya!
She told her mother that she was observing the Cooperating Teacher one day last week in a primary lesson (I'm not sure if it was Kindergarten or 1st Grade), and she was teaching the song "Little Bunny Foo-Foo" to the class. She gets through the first two stanzas of the song with the children, then, just before she gets to the last verse (where Little Bunny Foo-Foo is turned into a Goon),she asks the class, "So, boys and girls, what do you think happens to Little Bunny Foo-Foo?"
And, one of the children promptly raises his hand and says:
"Little Bunny Foo-Foo's fucked!"
I swear to you, this is TRUE. Even I'm not that creative.
This, my friends, is the "educational miracle" that is the No Child Left Behind Law. Way to go, Dubya!
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Ta-Dah!
Isn't it FABULOUS!?!?!
Denise from Moodswing Creations is a genius! Thanks for an awesome layout!
Denise from Moodswing Creations is a genius! Thanks for an awesome layout!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Spring Cleaning
Although, it's frickin' cold as HELL here. They're even talking about snow, for fuck's sake. SNOW, people. In April. In New Jersey, not Minnesota.
Sheesh..........I knew we should've gone away this year. Don't you hate when you don't trust your instincts?
So, I've been cleaning like a crazy woman today, especially since my friend Tina came over yesterday to find me still in my pajamas and the house a hellhole. Can we say "a little bit embarassed?" I know you can! I apparently misheard her voicemail message saying that she'd be over at 10:30, after her doctor's appointment (I thought she said her appointment ended at 10:30). So, I had to scramble to clean myself up so we could have a nice lunch date and do some shopping.
And today, I decided to get off of my fat rear (okay, it's not as fat as it was-the miracle of the gym! Woot!) and actually finish the laundry and run the vacuum cleaner and attempt to dust. Ergh.
It totally makes me think that perhaps, we need to employ a cleaning lady. The hubs thinks we'd seem snobbish if we did that. I maintain that it will free up time that we could potentially spend with each other. Let's face it-after working all week long, do you really want to spend the weekend cleaning the damn house? And, since I've got the church job and he does side carpentry on the weekends, we don't really have a full weekend free.
Of course, the MIL had to put her two cents in ("Oh, why would you want to do that? I'd hate to waste money like that, when I could do it myself"). Of course, if she's offering to do it, then cool. Otherwise, well...........you know what I'm thinking.......
I think I've almost got him convinced. Perhaps some "servicing" might be in order..........
Heh.
Oh, yeah-look out for some spring cleaning around here, too. I won't give away any details, but it's going to be really cool.......
I think I've almost got him convinced
Sheesh..........I knew we should've gone away this year. Don't you hate when you don't trust your instincts?
So, I've been cleaning like a crazy woman today, especially since my friend Tina came over yesterday to find me still in my pajamas and the house a hellhole. Can we say "a little bit embarassed?" I know you can! I apparently misheard her voicemail message saying that she'd be over at 10:30, after her doctor's appointment (I thought she said her appointment ended at 10:30). So, I had to scramble to clean myself up so we could have a nice lunch date and do some shopping.
And today, I decided to get off of my fat rear (okay, it's not as fat as it was-the miracle of the gym! Woot!) and actually finish the laundry and run the vacuum cleaner and attempt to dust. Ergh.
It totally makes me think that perhaps, we need to employ a cleaning lady. The hubs thinks we'd seem snobbish if we did that. I maintain that it will free up time that we could potentially spend with each other. Let's face it-after working all week long, do you really want to spend the weekend cleaning the damn house? And, since I've got the church job and he does side carpentry on the weekends, we don't really have a full weekend free.
Of course, the MIL had to put her two cents in ("Oh, why would you want to do that? I'd hate to waste money like that, when I could do it myself"). Of course, if she's offering to do it, then cool. Otherwise, well...........you know what I'm thinking.......
I think I've almost got him convinced. Perhaps some "servicing" might be in order..........
Heh.
Oh, yeah-look out for some spring cleaning around here, too. I won't give away any details, but it's going to be really cool.......
I think I've almost got him convinced
Friday, March 30, 2007
The Results
Yesterday was the dreaded Failed Cycle Follow-Up appointment, also known in these here parts as the "Why Your Embryos Won't Get With The Fucking Program" meeting. Luckily, I didn't have to go alone, as Sean suddenly became "sick" (*cough, cough*) and took yesterday and today off.
So, there we were, again. Sitting on the same couch, waiting. It's like a fucking remake of "Groundhog Day", for God's sake.......and, did you ever notice how quiet it is in an RE's office in the afternoons? Like a morgue, I swear! And THEN...........
Oh, yeah. What was discussed-sorry. I digress.....
So, as we sat down, Dr. Pipsqueak apologized for keeping us waiting, but she was on the phone with the lab director going over our embryo thaw results. What they think is going on is not an egg quality or sperm quality problem, but that because I over-responded to the stims and was forced to do a freeze-all cycle. And, since embryos frozen tend to lose cells once thawed, it probably wasn't optimal for me to get pregnant, since they didn't cultivate the majority of them (they only took 6 to day three before freezing, and the rest were 2pn's). After consulting with all the RE's and the lab director, they all still "strongly feel" that this will work for us, and recommend doing another cycle whenever we're ready. They would obviously start me on lower doses of Follistim (she mentioned 125 IU to start) and I'd be monitored daily. They don't want my E2 levels to go over about 3,000, so the less eggs the better. She also felt that if we can make it to a fresh transfer we'd have the chance to have some blasts to work with, and they've been getting some great pregnancy results with them.
I did tell her that, since it's more than likely our last chance for doing IVF, due to insurance reasons, we want to make sure that every base was covered in terms of making this as successful as possible. So, since we've had repeated failures, she's sending both of us for karyotyping as a precaution (although she said that finding anything is "highly unlikely"), and we're having another saline sonogram to make sure everything is okay. I also brought up the whole tubal issue/surgery again, which she's still doesn't feel is necessary. But, since this whole hydro/non hydro thing has been going on for a bit (my very first RE diagnosed the hydro on my HSG, but Dr. Pipsqueak didn't find one on last year's SIS, and said that the diagnosis was made probably because the tube bulged when too much dye was forced through), I did question if the tubes were open at all. She did say that it was a possibility that either one or both were open, since the tubes could have been in spasm at the time of the test. So, for peace of mind (hey, you never know, right?), I'm going to have another HSG to see what the deal is (Dr. Pipsqueak is going to do it)-complete with the Holy Trinity of Pain Meds-Valium, Anaprox and Lidocaine. Woot! Who says infertility can't be fun? Pshaw!
So, we've decided that, once the SIS and the HSG is done next month, we'll take a month off, then start a fresh cycle the end of May/beginning of June, to coincide with the end of the school year, so I won't miss too much time. Plus, that way I can try to lose some of this blubber that I've put on since last year's cycle/FET fiasco, so I can look HOT in that backless gown. See-I knew that there was a reason to work my glutes in the gym yesterday! Did I mention that I my ass HURTS LIKE HELL TODAY?? No? Oh.........well, it does! It feels like I've had marathon sex......
Oh, wait a minute-we are talking about SEX, right? Come now-we infertiles don't have sex for pleasure (gasp!). Like, we could have fun doing that? NO WAY, MAN!
Okay, I digress again. Sorry.
So, have any of you out there done karyotyping; and, if so, can someone explain it to me? Is it the same as genetic testing? I've been trying to look information up, but I'm getting a bout of adult-ADD and can't focus on it all.
Right now, all I want to focus on is a nice glass of vino and perhaps a pizza, along with a movie tonight.
Oh, and maybe some sex........................
GOTCHA!! HAH!
So, there we were, again. Sitting on the same couch, waiting. It's like a fucking remake of "Groundhog Day", for God's sake.......and, did you ever notice how quiet it is in an RE's office in the afternoons? Like a morgue, I swear! And THEN...........
Oh, yeah. What was discussed-sorry. I digress.....
So, as we sat down, Dr. Pipsqueak apologized for keeping us waiting, but she was on the phone with the lab director going over our embryo thaw results. What they think is going on is not an egg quality or sperm quality problem, but that because I over-responded to the stims and was forced to do a freeze-all cycle. And, since embryos frozen tend to lose cells once thawed, it probably wasn't optimal for me to get pregnant, since they didn't cultivate the majority of them (they only took 6 to day three before freezing, and the rest were 2pn's). After consulting with all the RE's and the lab director, they all still "strongly feel" that this will work for us, and recommend doing another cycle whenever we're ready. They would obviously start me on lower doses of Follistim (she mentioned 125 IU to start) and I'd be monitored daily. They don't want my E2 levels to go over about 3,000, so the less eggs the better. She also felt that if we can make it to a fresh transfer we'd have the chance to have some blasts to work with, and they've been getting some great pregnancy results with them.
I did tell her that, since it's more than likely our last chance for doing IVF, due to insurance reasons, we want to make sure that every base was covered in terms of making this as successful as possible. So, since we've had repeated failures, she's sending both of us for karyotyping as a precaution (although she said that finding anything is "highly unlikely"), and we're having another saline sonogram to make sure everything is okay. I also brought up the whole tubal issue/surgery again, which she's still doesn't feel is necessary. But, since this whole hydro/non hydro thing has been going on for a bit (my very first RE diagnosed the hydro on my HSG, but Dr. Pipsqueak didn't find one on last year's SIS, and said that the diagnosis was made probably because the tube bulged when too much dye was forced through), I did question if the tubes were open at all. She did say that it was a possibility that either one or both were open, since the tubes could have been in spasm at the time of the test. So, for peace of mind (hey, you never know, right?), I'm going to have another HSG to see what the deal is (Dr. Pipsqueak is going to do it)-complete with the Holy Trinity of Pain Meds-Valium, Anaprox and Lidocaine. Woot! Who says infertility can't be fun? Pshaw!
So, we've decided that, once the SIS and the HSG is done next month, we'll take a month off, then start a fresh cycle the end of May/beginning of June, to coincide with the end of the school year, so I won't miss too much time. Plus, that way I can try to lose some of this blubber that I've put on since last year's cycle/FET fiasco, so I can look HOT in that backless gown. See-I knew that there was a reason to work my glutes in the gym yesterday! Did I mention that I my ass HURTS LIKE HELL TODAY?? No? Oh.........well, it does! It feels like I've had marathon sex......
Oh, wait a minute-we are talking about SEX, right? Come now-we infertiles don't have sex for pleasure (gasp!). Like, we could have fun doing that? NO WAY, MAN!
Okay, I digress again. Sorry.
So, have any of you out there done karyotyping; and, if so, can someone explain it to me? Is it the same as genetic testing? I've been trying to look information up, but I'm getting a bout of adult-ADD and can't focus on it all.
Right now, all I want to focus on is a nice glass of vino and perhaps a pizza, along with a movie tonight.
Oh, and maybe some sex........................
GOTCHA!! HAH!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Yo.
So, I am still here, and lurking about your blogs (hell, I'm even commenting on a few, too!). I haven't updated mine since I really don't have much to say lately, at least on the vajayjay front. I have an appointment with Dr. Pipsqueak on Thursday afternoon, so I'm sure that I'll update everyone as soon as I hear what she has to say.
The green cloud of ass has left the building; however, I think that it somehow passed through my colon on its way out the door, because I had the WORST ass-rippin' for about four days. I mean, BAD, people. What made it worse was the accompanying.....uh.....poopies (or should I say, "water-ca-ca") with the gas which had me living in the bathroom for about five days. Poor Buddy has scorch marks on the white parts of his fur, and won't sit on my lap anymore. Boo. Oh, well.
*************************************************************************
Let's see, what else? Work sucks large hairy testicles. I really don't talk in great detail about the specifics of work here, in case of any potential doocing, but it is getting to the point that I need to get into another district. The kids are getting ruder and ruder (I had a third grader tell me to kiss his ass today, and a fourth grader sass me back like I was one of the kids-nothing was done about it), the administration does nothing to support you in terms of discipline, and expect you to let shit like that roll off your back. Plus, because of what I teach, I'm at the bottom of the food chain as far as anyone is concerned (music? who needs that?). Then add a supervisor who, when you voice those concerns, says to you "Well, what do you want me to do about it?". Nice.
Here's the problem-it's not having to start all over in another district-I'm okay with that. It's starting over as an infertile teacher in a new district. I didn't start IVF cycles until I got tenure, so I could be protected, just in case. It's one of those things that I wonder about-is the stress of dealing with bullshit and passing the buck contributing to my cycle failure? If I removed myself from that situation and changed jobs, would my stress levels go down and make me more apt to get (and stay) pregnant? Or, does it really matter in the end? I could wait until I get pregnant, go on maternity leave and just not come back-either get a job in another district or maybe sub for a while (although subbing won't be counted into my pension and retirement benefits later on) until I find the right job. Of course, that all depends if I can get pregnant, right? Right.
These are the things that have been rolling around in my head for the past two weeks. There are times that I'd really love the burden could be taken off of me for awhile, just so I can breathe. I'm not asking that it be taken away from me altogether, but a vacation from it would be lovely.
Being a grownup just sucks sometimes.
The green cloud of ass has left the building; however, I think that it somehow passed through my colon on its way out the door, because I had the WORST ass-rippin' for about four days. I mean, BAD, people. What made it worse was the accompanying.....uh.....poopies (or should I say, "water-ca-ca") with the gas which had me living in the bathroom for about five days. Poor Buddy has scorch marks on the white parts of his fur, and won't sit on my lap anymore. Boo. Oh, well.
*************************************************************************
Let's see, what else? Work sucks large hairy testicles. I really don't talk in great detail about the specifics of work here, in case of any potential doocing, but it is getting to the point that I need to get into another district. The kids are getting ruder and ruder (I had a third grader tell me to kiss his ass today, and a fourth grader sass me back like I was one of the kids-nothing was done about it), the administration does nothing to support you in terms of discipline, and expect you to let shit like that roll off your back. Plus, because of what I teach, I'm at the bottom of the food chain as far as anyone is concerned (music? who needs that?). Then add a supervisor who, when you voice those concerns, says to you "Well, what do you want me to do about it?". Nice.
Here's the problem-it's not having to start all over in another district-I'm okay with that. It's starting over as an infertile teacher in a new district. I didn't start IVF cycles until I got tenure, so I could be protected, just in case. It's one of those things that I wonder about-is the stress of dealing with bullshit and passing the buck contributing to my cycle failure? If I removed myself from that situation and changed jobs, would my stress levels go down and make me more apt to get (and stay) pregnant? Or, does it really matter in the end? I could wait until I get pregnant, go on maternity leave and just not come back-either get a job in another district or maybe sub for a while (although subbing won't be counted into my pension and retirement benefits later on) until I find the right job. Of course, that all depends if I can get pregnant, right? Right.
These are the things that have been rolling around in my head for the past two weeks. There are times that I'd really love the burden could be taken off of me for awhile, just so I can breathe. I'm not asking that it be taken away from me altogether, but a vacation from it would be lovely.
Being a grownup just sucks sometimes.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Still Plugging Along, and The Green Cloud of Evil
Here I am *waving*.
I haven't forgotten anyone, it's just that there's not much going here in our household. It's been pretty boring, actually-as it usually is when there's no poonanny-related business going on (also known as "cycle hell"). But, I'm sure that all that will change on the 29th, since I have the "failed cycle" appointment. I've written down my list of questions for Dr. Pipsqueak (including the lap or no lap question), but really, what's there to say? Ergh.
Another cycle, another $20K. Ho-hum. Just another day in the life of an infertile, right?
So, we've (or should I say "Sean", but I'll be nice, for a change-we ARE a unit, after all) been having some flatulence issues over here. Let's just say that, should you have the opportunity to enter our home, you would need a respirator gas mask to combat the noxious cloud of ASS that has permeated any area that the hubs has even briefly walked through. I think it started on Saturday night, when we went to a friend's for dinner (Baja Fresh takeout). For some reason, the takeout place fucked up and gave us doubles of our entire order (boo!), yet didn't charge us (YAY!).
Of course, Sean's extra-large-could-feed-a-small-Amazonian-village burrito had beans inside. And since we took some of the leftovers, he got to enjoy them on Sunday and Monday for lunch. I, of course, didn't enjoy it AT ALL. In fact, I think that there are not only skids on the sheets from the sharting, but there is a green cloud that is constantly surrounding my husband, a la Pig Pen from the Peanuts cartoons. I mean, the CATS have been looking for a way out, people-they even prefer sitting in the dirty litterbox rather than go near Sean. They RUN away when he comes in the door, and Peachy starts howling as if in pain (which she more than likely is, since she's probably holding her breath). Buddy, not being extremely vocal, has been writing his Last Will and Testament, "just in case", as he confided in me. I'm surprised that the smoke alarm hasn't been set off, actually.
So, please..................anyone want another husband? Pretty please?
Our respiratory systems will hearily thank you.......
I haven't forgotten anyone, it's just that there's not much going here in our household. It's been pretty boring, actually-as it usually is when there's no poonanny-related business going on (also known as "cycle hell"). But, I'm sure that all that will change on the 29th, since I have the "failed cycle" appointment. I've written down my list of questions for Dr. Pipsqueak (including the lap or no lap question), but really, what's there to say? Ergh.
Another cycle, another $20K. Ho-hum. Just another day in the life of an infertile, right?
So, we've (or should I say "Sean", but I'll be nice, for a change-we ARE a unit, after all) been having some flatulence issues over here. Let's just say that, should you have the opportunity to enter our home, you would need a respirator gas mask to combat the noxious cloud of ASS that has permeated any area that the hubs has even briefly walked through. I think it started on Saturday night, when we went to a friend's for dinner (Baja Fresh takeout). For some reason, the takeout place fucked up and gave us doubles of our entire order (boo!), yet didn't charge us (YAY!).
Of course, Sean's extra-large-could-feed-a-small-Amazonian-village burrito had beans inside. And since we took some of the leftovers, he got to enjoy them on Sunday and Monday for lunch. I, of course, didn't enjoy it AT ALL. In fact, I think that there are not only skids on the sheets from the sharting, but there is a green cloud that is constantly surrounding my husband, a la Pig Pen from the Peanuts cartoons. I mean, the CATS have been looking for a way out, people-they even prefer sitting in the dirty litterbox rather than go near Sean. They RUN away when he comes in the door, and Peachy starts howling as if in pain (which she more than likely is, since she's probably holding her breath). Buddy, not being extremely vocal, has been writing his Last Will and Testament, "just in case", as he confided in me. I'm surprised that the smoke alarm hasn't been set off, actually.
So, please..................anyone want another husband? Pretty please?
Our respiratory systems will hearily thank you.......
Monday, March 05, 2007
The Children of Men
Intrigued by this book tour and want to read more about Children of Men? Hop along to more stops on the Barren Bitches Book Tour by visiting the master list at Stirrup Queens
(http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/ ).
I have to say, I really liked this book, and I wasn't sure if I would. However, the story sucked me in, and I finished about half the book in one sitting. So, I hope that my answers to some of these questions will get a good discussion going......
Though there are interesting female characters in the forefront of the novel, the cast of thousands of infertile women in the background are portrayed as crazy, desperate, and delusional. Did you feel P.D. James captured the emotions of infertility or do you think she merely repeated the image presented in the general media--infertile women are desperate and single-minded and obsessed with babies and pregnancy?
I think that she really did both-captured the fragility of the mind of an infertile woman, but by using those stereotypical images we see in today's media. In the novel, it's the men who are infertile, not the women (as opposed to the film version, where it's the women who can't conceive), and I think that is the motivation behind the behavior-that the women know that they are perfectly fertile, but that the men can't get them pregnant (which is relayed in Chapter 16, when Theo talks about how women became more and more intolerant and resentful of men throughout the 80's and 90's (when the fertility started to decline worldwide). I think that the desperation stems from the fact that NOBODY in the world can have children. For us infertiles (or, at least for me), if we can't bear our own children, there are options available-IVF, donor egg, adoption. We know that, should our current treatments don't work, we could still be parents. In the novel, there are no options-this is your life. We, as human beings, always desperately want what we can't have, and I think that was the author's intention, not to portray the stereotypes.
What do you think is the significance of the fact that the two people who are finally able to conceive are both considered "flawed?" (Luke had epilepsy and Julian had a deformed hand)
I think it's great, actually. It is such poetic justice, which I'm sure the author intended. The author reveals a society that is obsessed with "perfection" and bodily well-being, and that people who are less than genetically perfect are disregarded and are exempt from reproductive testing. It showed that humanity is only intent in passing along the "right" genes" (although, it's the state that decided what was an "appropriate" gene pool). Since they didn't screen people with either physical deformities or medical conditions (that may or may not be hereditary), they couldn't realize that perhaps there was a minority population that is more fertile than everyone else. It reminds me of Nazi Germany's process of weeding out all those who were not "examples" of Aryan genetics. I think that P.D. James was trying to show that perhaps the people who were flawed in her novel weren't the ones that had the obvious physical deformities, but those who were flawed morally and ethically.
Once Rolf discovers the truth about his child, in his anguish, he rubs his skin raw against the bark of a tree. Do you think he is mourning his wife's adulturous affair or his new-found knowledge of his own infertility (since he thought he had impregnanted his wife)?
I think that he's mourning the knowledge of his infertility. Throughout the book, there is no obvious "chemistry" that links Julian with Rolf as lovers or husband and wife. I felt that he was more proud that he got Julian pregnant and she was the vessel carrying his biological child rather than of Julian as his wife and the mother of his child. He's pretty much an arrogant ass, and his intent is to replace Xan as Warden by the sheer fact that he's the father of the new "alpha" generation, and not by ability as a ruler. He feels that he's entitled to the adulation and praise because he's got fertile sperm, and it's a slap in the face for him to realize that not only was his wife unfaithful to him with a member of the group, but with someone who inadvertanly ended up being the father of the new generation of mankind. Rolf could no longer lay claim to being the new "Adam", and that's why he ended up betraying the entire group-as revenge. He didn't care about Julian's well being, and he no longer cared about the child that wasn't "his"-all he cared about was that his moment in the sun was yanked from him.
In describing the world's "universal bereavement" over it's lack of children, the narrator tells us, "Only on tape and records to we now hear the voices of children, only on film or on television programmes do we see the bright, moving images of the young. Some find them unbearable to watch but most feed on them as they might a drug." How is this like your life dealing with infertility? How do you cope when you are confronted with images or reminders that are painful to you?
In my job (being a teacher of young children, from grades K-5), I'm around children all. day. long. I can't escape them-and it's what I've chosen to do with my life. I have kids who ask me if I have any children; and, when I answer no, they ask me if I want to have any. They have no idea that their innocent question might, some days, be like a knife in my heart. Or, how it angers me when I hear stories about some of the home lives of some of these students, and it's astounding to me that a parent would allow the shattering of such innocence by exposing them to drug taking, abuse, and neglecting their basic needs. And yet, at other times, I see children as a beacon of hope. How do I cope? Of course, it depends on my mental state of the day (or where I am in a cycle). I try to tell myself that, one way or another, I will be a mother. Like I said earlier, some days are easier than others-some days I just can't cope with news of another pregnancy, shower invitation, baby announcement or cute toddler in the store. Sometimes I have to figuratively bury my head in the sand and not deal with it, for my own mental state. Other times I can be perfectly okay in a room full of kids, and not carry my infertility on my back. And I think that it's okay to not be able to cope all of the time-there are times that you need the emotional release of crying or cursing the world-it makes you stronger, in the end.
If you were living in this time period and were given the ability to become pregnant but knew you would be the only person to do so, would you have that child knowing that they would be completely alone in an empty world for the last twenty-odd years of their life?
No, I wouldn't be able to do that. Not because I don't want a child, but because you have to want a child for the right reasons. What kind of life would you condemn that child to? I think that, for me, it would be a selfish thing to do, because it would be satisfying my own need to bear a child, rather than to produce a human being that is supposed to be a productive member of society (which, in this case, there would be no society to become a member of). I'd hate to have that child, only for it to later curse it's own lonely existence and, possibly, end it's own life rather than be alone.
Well, that's it-I hope they open a lot of discussions!!
Want to come along for the next tour? Sign up begins today for tour #3 ( The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger) and all are welcome to join along. All you need is a book and blog.
(http://stirrup-queens.blogspot
I have to say, I really liked this book, and I wasn't sure if I would. However, the story sucked me in, and I finished about half the book in one sitting. So, I hope that my answers to some of these questions will get a good discussion going......
Though there are interesting female characters in the forefront of the novel, the cast of thousands of infertile women in the background are portrayed as crazy, desperate, and delusional. Did you feel P.D. James captured the emotions of infertility or do you think she merely repeated the image presented in the general media--infertile women are desperate and single-minded and obsessed with babies and pregnancy?
I think that she really did both-captured the fragility of the mind of an infertile woman, but by using those stereotypical images we see in today's media. In the novel, it's the men who are infertile, not the women (as opposed to the film version, where it's the women who can't conceive), and I think that is the motivation behind the behavior-that the women know that they are perfectly fertile, but that the men can't get them pregnant (which is relayed in Chapter 16, when Theo talks about how women became more and more intolerant and resentful of men throughout the 80's and 90's (when the fertility started to decline worldwide). I think that the desperation stems from the fact that NOBODY in the world can have children. For us infertiles (or, at least for me), if we can't bear our own children, there are options available-IVF, donor egg, adoption. We know that, should our current treatments don't work, we could still be parents. In the novel, there are no options-this is your life. We, as human beings, always desperately want what we can't have, and I think that was the author's intention, not to portray the stereotypes.
What do you think is the significance of the fact that the two people who are finally able to conceive are both considered "flawed?" (Luke had epilepsy and Julian had a deformed hand)
I think it's great, actually. It is such poetic justice, which I'm sure the author intended. The author reveals a society that is obsessed with "perfection" and bodily well-being, and that people who are less than genetically perfect are disregarded and are exempt from reproductive testing. It showed that humanity is only intent in passing along the "right" genes" (although, it's the state that decided what was an "appropriate" gene pool). Since they didn't screen people with either physical deformities or medical conditions (that may or may not be hereditary), they couldn't realize that perhaps there was a minority population that is more fertile than everyone else. It reminds me of Nazi Germany's process of weeding out all those who were not "examples" of Aryan genetics. I think that P.D. James was trying to show that perhaps the people who were flawed in her novel weren't the ones that had the obvious physical deformities, but those who were flawed morally and ethically.
Once Rolf discovers the truth about his child, in his anguish, he rubs his skin raw against the bark of a tree. Do you think he is mourning his wife's adulturous affair or his new-found knowledge of his own infertility (since he thought he had impregnanted his wife)?
I think that he's mourning the knowledge of his infertility. Throughout the book, there is no obvious "chemistry" that links Julian with Rolf as lovers or husband and wife. I felt that he was more proud that he got Julian pregnant and she was the vessel carrying his biological child rather than of Julian as his wife and the mother of his child. He's pretty much an arrogant ass, and his intent is to replace Xan as Warden by the sheer fact that he's the father of the new "alpha" generation, and not by ability as a ruler. He feels that he's entitled to the adulation and praise because he's got fertile sperm, and it's a slap in the face for him to realize that not only was his wife unfaithful to him with a member of the group, but with someone who inadvertanly ended up being the father of the new generation of mankind. Rolf could no longer lay claim to being the new "Adam", and that's why he ended up betraying the entire group-as revenge. He didn't care about Julian's well being, and he no longer cared about the child that wasn't "his"-all he cared about was that his moment in the sun was yanked from him.
In describing the world's "universal bereavement" over it's lack of children, the narrator tells us, "Only on tape and records to we now hear the voices of children, only on film or on television programmes do we see the bright, moving images of the young. Some find them unbearable to watch but most feed on them as they might a drug." How is this like your life dealing with infertility? How do you cope when you are confronted with images or reminders that are painful to you?
In my job (being a teacher of young children, from grades K-5), I'm around children all. day. long. I can't escape them-and it's what I've chosen to do with my life. I have kids who ask me if I have any children; and, when I answer no, they ask me if I want to have any. They have no idea that their innocent question might, some days, be like a knife in my heart. Or, how it angers me when I hear stories about some of the home lives of some of these students, and it's astounding to me that a parent would allow the shattering of such innocence by exposing them to drug taking, abuse, and neglecting their basic needs. And yet, at other times, I see children as a beacon of hope. How do I cope? Of course, it depends on my mental state of the day (or where I am in a cycle). I try to tell myself that, one way or another, I will be a mother. Like I said earlier, some days are easier than others-some days I just can't cope with news of another pregnancy, shower invitation, baby announcement or cute toddler in the store. Sometimes I have to figuratively bury my head in the sand and not deal with it, for my own mental state. Other times I can be perfectly okay in a room full of kids, and not carry my infertility on my back. And I think that it's okay to not be able to cope all of the time-there are times that you need the emotional release of crying or cursing the world-it makes you stronger, in the end.
If you were living in this time period and were given the ability to become pregnant but knew you would be the only person to do so, would you have that child knowing that they would be completely alone in an empty world for the last twenty-odd years of their life?
No, I wouldn't be able to do that. Not because I don't want a child, but because you have to want a child for the right reasons. What kind of life would you condemn that child to? I think that, for me, it would be a selfish thing to do, because it would be satisfying my own need to bear a child, rather than to produce a human being that is supposed to be a productive member of society (which, in this case, there would be no society to become a member of). I'd hate to have that child, only for it to later curse it's own lonely existence and, possibly, end it's own life rather than be alone.
Well, that's it-I hope they open a lot of discussions!!
Want to come along for the next tour? Sign up begins today for tour #3 ( The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger) and all are welcome to join along. All you need is a book and blog.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
The Violet Shorts
When I read my last post, I was worried that I'd offend some people, because I know that losing 20 pounds doesn't seem like a lot, and that I'm bitching unnecessarily. So, I do apologize if it looks like I'm being a whiny bitch-it's not my intention. Honestly, when I tell people my weight they're surprised at the number, so I don't care about the number. I think that, for me, losing the weight and getting fit is more of a control issue than being the weight I am. I can't control if my uterus or tubes are working correctly, I can't control if I get OHSS in an IVF cycle or not, and I can't control whether an embryo will or won't implant into my uterus, but I CAN control what my body looks like. I do have the ability to become healthier, and that's what I'm going to try to do. Perhaps that's why I'm so determined-it's one of the things that I do have some sway over.
That's not to say that I'll always eat in a healthy way, but I'm not going to beat myself up over it, either. It's unrealistic to think that I won't fall off the bandwagon. But, I'm going to try my hardest not to. So, if anyone wants to join in on the bandwagon, feel free. It might be nice to have an exercise buddy, instead of a cycle buddy, for a change.
I stopped by the gym yesterday afternoon to make sure that all of my information was there (which it was). Did I actually go in and work out, do you ask?
No. But, I did get some exercise yesterday (and I didn't eat shitty food, either.......and I was in the mall! Now THAT's willpower, since Auntie Anne's pretzels were on the way to the sporting goods store.....mmm......)
Because I went to the sporting goods store and bought about $200 worth of exercise gear-sneakers, sweats, a gym bag (Buddy peed in the last one I had), two sport bras, made especially for the "well-endowed", socks, and a combination lock. Since I spent about an hour in the store lugging said items back and forth on two floors (they don't have carts in the store), I feel that I got some lifting and cardio out of it.......okay, perhaps I'm spreading that a little thing, but nonetheless.....
I also purchased a pair of cute violet shorts, on clearance. They're a little shorter than I'd normally wear (that length being the equivalent of two kitchen Hefty bags wrapped around my thighs), but I did it on purpose. I hung the shorts up in my closet, where I can see them every morning. They're my incentive to losing the pounds and toning my body. I WILL get into these shorts, and I'll wear them in the gym and strut my bad self around, albeit with a noticeably smaller tush and thighs.
It's all about the control, everyone. I've been putting my body in the hands of others for the past five years-doctors, nurses, acupuncturists-and I've let them have all the control in my life-what to eat or not eat, what OTC meds I should/shouldn't take, blah blah bloody blah. And, I've felt, by doing that, I've given up control over my own path in life. Now it's time to resume my own path, to take back the control from others.
There is that saying that "God helps those who helps themselves", and, in this instance, it's so true. Nobody can help me if I sit on my ever-growing ass and cry, "poor me". I can't control my fertility, but I can control whether or not it makes me the victim in all of this. I am not a victim-it's just bad fucking luck all around. No, I can't change my infertility, but I can look damn good while I'm in the middle of it all. I can try to feel good about what I look like on the outside, regardless of my body's inability to conceive. And, I really, truly need to feel good about myself, for a change.
Hopefully by Easter there will be a start of a change-like a metamorphosis of sorts. I will be the infertile chickie with the smokin' bod-I will wear a two piece bathing suit this summer.
I will. Just you wait and see.
That's not to say that I'll always eat in a healthy way, but I'm not going to beat myself up over it, either. It's unrealistic to think that I won't fall off the bandwagon. But, I'm going to try my hardest not to. So, if anyone wants to join in on the bandwagon, feel free. It might be nice to have an exercise buddy, instead of a cycle buddy, for a change.
I stopped by the gym yesterday afternoon to make sure that all of my information was there (which it was). Did I actually go in and work out, do you ask?
No. But, I did get some exercise yesterday (and I didn't eat shitty food, either.......and I was in the mall! Now THAT's willpower, since Auntie Anne's pretzels were on the way to the sporting goods store.....mmm......)
Because I went to the sporting goods store and bought about $200 worth of exercise gear-sneakers, sweats, a gym bag (Buddy peed in the last one I had), two sport bras, made especially for the "well-endowed", socks, and a combination lock. Since I spent about an hour in the store lugging said items back and forth on two floors (they don't have carts in the store), I feel that I got some lifting and cardio out of it.......okay, perhaps I'm spreading that a little thing, but nonetheless.....
I also purchased a pair of cute violet shorts, on clearance. They're a little shorter than I'd normally wear (that length being the equivalent of two kitchen Hefty bags wrapped around my thighs), but I did it on purpose. I hung the shorts up in my closet, where I can see them every morning. They're my incentive to losing the pounds and toning my body. I WILL get into these shorts, and I'll wear them in the gym and strut my bad self around, albeit with a noticeably smaller tush and thighs.
It's all about the control, everyone. I've been putting my body in the hands of others for the past five years-doctors, nurses, acupuncturists-and I've let them have all the control in my life-what to eat or not eat, what OTC meds I should/shouldn't take, blah blah bloody blah. And, I've felt, by doing that, I've given up control over my own path in life. Now it's time to resume my own path, to take back the control from others.
There is that saying that "God helps those who helps themselves", and, in this instance, it's so true. Nobody can help me if I sit on my ever-growing ass and cry, "poor me". I can't control my fertility, but I can control whether or not it makes me the victim in all of this. I am not a victim-it's just bad fucking luck all around. No, I can't change my infertility, but I can look damn good while I'm in the middle of it all. I can try to feel good about what I look like on the outside, regardless of my body's inability to conceive. And, I really, truly need to feel good about myself, for a change.
Hopefully by Easter there will be a start of a change-like a metamorphosis of sorts. I will be the infertile chickie with the smokin' bod-I will wear a two piece bathing suit this summer.
I will. Just you wait and see.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Oink, Oink
Can you hear that? That oinking sound coming from your computer?
That's me. 'Cause I'm a big fat pig.
I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror right now. I actually got on the scale today (after digging it out of the bottom of the hall closet) and was shocked to see the needle hovering around 153lbs. Holy fucking shit.
Okay, before you say that's not a lot, it is for me, since I'm normally around 135lbs. I'm only about five-four and a half, and, although my chest is large (now up to a 34DD from a 34D), it's my belly that's the problem. The belly that is now every so obviously hanging over my pants. The belly that no shirt can completely cover. The belly that jiggles and gives a "muffin top" (hell, let's get real-it's a bundt cake) over every pair of pants I own.
And my thighs and ass.......oh my GOD. I actually now am beginning to resemble a whole oven stuffer roaster that's been lifted up so it's "standing" up-big belly and thighs and small from the knees down.
It's time to take off the pounds and get my life back in order.
It's about fucking time, as far as I'm concerned
That's me. 'Cause I'm a big fat pig.
I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror right now. I actually got on the scale today (after digging it out of the bottom of the hall closet) and was shocked to see the needle hovering around 153lbs. Holy fucking shit.
Okay, before you say that's not a lot, it is for me, since I'm normally around 135lbs. I'm only about five-four and a half, and, although my chest is large (now up to a 34DD from a 34D), it's my belly that's the problem. The belly that is now every so obviously hanging over my pants. The belly that no shirt can completely cover. The belly that jiggles and gives a "muffin top" (hell, let's get real-it's a bundt cake) over every pair of pants I own.
And my thighs and ass.......oh my GOD. I actually now am beginning to resemble a whole oven stuffer roaster that's been lifted up so it's "standing" up-big belly and thighs and small from the knees down.
It's time to take off the pounds and get my life back in order.
It's about fucking time, as far as I'm concerned
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Pity Party-Table for One
Well folks, the pity party is in full swing.
To say that I'm disappointed is an understatement. To say that I'm absolutely gutted is probably more accurate. I cried my eyes out on Monday-literally. I actually broke a blood vessel in my left eye due to all the crying and blowing of the nose, so now I look AND feel like shit. The "crime scene" also arrived promptly yesterday at lunchtime, and what a doozy it is. I had forgotten just how much I adore the After Progesterone Period-large clots and all. Wonderfuckingful. And then, Murphy's Law being a cruel thing with a nasty sense of humor, I had to wait in the self-serve line to buy the mega-box of Tampax at the supermarket next to a hugely pregnant woman, who was on a junk food binge, from looking at her handbasket.
*Sigh* Just another day in my fucked-up existence.
I'm angry, fuming. What the hell did I do wrong? Why won't this work for me? Why the hell do I have to be still in this position?
Of course, there are no answers-at least, not as of yet. But I seriously doubt that there will be any. I mean, what will be said "Oh, well, it's just the luck of the draw......your eggs are great, sperm is great, uterine lining was wonderful, hormone levels were spot-on....". See, I don't need the follow-up appointment-I can just recite that and save the gas money. But I DO want answers-we only have one more shot at this, and then we have to throw in the towel (unless we hit the lottery, then its FREE CYCLES FOR EVERYONE!), so I want to make sure that they are doing everything possible to get me (and keep me) pregnant. And, it keeps coming back to what's inside my body-those tubes. I don't know what they look like, nor does any doctor. Should they do an exploratory lap to find out exactly what's going on? I don't know. Dr. Pipsqueak doesn't think so-she's afraid that it will create scar tissue. But if it's fucked up in there already, what more harm can it do? Not that I want surgery, mind you; but I am so afraid of doing another cycle and having it fail.
I just don't know what to do anymore. I want to cry, but there are no tears left-just bitterness.
To say that I'm disappointed is an understatement. To say that I'm absolutely gutted is probably more accurate. I cried my eyes out on Monday-literally. I actually broke a blood vessel in my left eye due to all the crying and blowing of the nose, so now I look AND feel like shit. The "crime scene" also arrived promptly yesterday at lunchtime, and what a doozy it is. I had forgotten just how much I adore the After Progesterone Period-large clots and all. Wonderfuckingful. And then, Murphy's Law being a cruel thing with a nasty sense of humor, I had to wait in the self-serve line to buy the mega-box of Tampax at the supermarket next to a hugely pregnant woman, who was on a junk food binge, from looking at her handbasket.
*Sigh* Just another day in my fucked-up existence.
I'm angry, fuming. What the hell did I do wrong? Why won't this work for me? Why the hell do I have to be still in this position?
Of course, there are no answers-at least, not as of yet. But I seriously doubt that there will be any. I mean, what will be said "Oh, well, it's just the luck of the draw......your eggs are great, sperm is great, uterine lining was wonderful, hormone levels were spot-on....". See, I don't need the follow-up appointment-I can just recite that and save the gas money. But I DO want answers-we only have one more shot at this, and then we have to throw in the towel (unless we hit the lottery, then its FREE CYCLES FOR EVERYONE!), so I want to make sure that they are doing everything possible to get me (and keep me) pregnant. And, it keeps coming back to what's inside my body-those tubes. I don't know what they look like, nor does any doctor. Should they do an exploratory lap to find out exactly what's going on? I don't know. Dr. Pipsqueak doesn't think so-she's afraid that it will create scar tissue. But if it's fucked up in there already, what more harm can it do? Not that I want surgery, mind you; but I am so afraid of doing another cycle and having it fail.
I just don't know what to do anymore. I want to cry, but there are no tears left-just bitterness.
Monday, February 19, 2007
It Didn't Work
That pretty much sums it up, right?
All 18 embryos are gone. That's it. We have to start from the beginning-a fresh cycle.
Doesn't it suck that crack 'ho's get to have slews of kids and I can't even manage to have one? Or that two of my work colleagues, who had been having an affair with each other for years, divorced their spouses and married each other a month ago are "suddenly" three and a half months pregnant? Boy, what have we been doing wrong?
The moral of the story: Crack 'ho's and adulterers are obviously more fit in the eyes of God to be parents than Sean and me. So, don't try to live a good life, be morally just, or do the right thing-because that will have you end up screwed.
Thanks, God. For nada.
All 18 embryos are gone. That's it. We have to start from the beginning-a fresh cycle.
Doesn't it suck that crack 'ho's get to have slews of kids and I can't even manage to have one? Or that two of my work colleagues, who had been having an affair with each other for years, divorced their spouses and married each other a month ago are "suddenly" three and a half months pregnant? Boy, what have we been doing wrong?
The moral of the story: Crack 'ho's and adulterers are obviously more fit in the eyes of God to be parents than Sean and me. So, don't try to live a good life, be morally just, or do the right thing-because that will have you end up screwed.
Thanks, God. For nada.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
10dp3dt-The End is Near
And I don't mean that in a good way.
I started spotting this morning-brown, but still spotting. And cramping. The beginning of the end.
Yes, I know that technically it isn't the end, that I still could be pregnant; but, let's face it-I've never had a spotting episode that turned out positive in the end.
I'm not even going to bother calling the RE's office-the beta is tomorrow, so I'll just suck it up until then.
Plus, I think I'm getting a sinus infection, so not only will I get my period this week, but I'll end up on antibiotics too...........what a way to end the month.
**UPDATED**
So, the spotting has yet to hit the pantyliner that I've got on, and the only time I see the brown spotting is when I wipe, so who the hell knows. I still think that it didn't work, though. I guess we'll know by tomorrow afternoon, one way or the other.
I started spotting this morning-brown, but still spotting. And cramping. The beginning of the end.
Yes, I know that technically it isn't the end, that I still could be pregnant; but, let's face it-I've never had a spotting episode that turned out positive in the end.
I'm not even going to bother calling the RE's office-the beta is tomorrow, so I'll just suck it up until then.
Plus, I think I'm getting a sinus infection, so not only will I get my period this week, but I'll end up on antibiotics too...........what a way to end the month.
**UPDATED**
So, the spotting has yet to hit the pantyliner that I've got on, and the only time I see the brown spotting is when I wipe, so who the hell knows. I still think that it didn't work, though. I guess we'll know by tomorrow afternoon, one way or the other.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
9dp3dt-Progesterone is Evil
Or, as Sean likes to call them, "The Little White Pills of Despair and Insanity"
I am a fat, bloated mess. I two lovely zits on my face that are the size and consistency of Mt. Etna. I also have a lovely spread of acne on my chest.........my CHEST. Ugh, how gross. Let's not even go to the nasty place of swollen, sore titties; suffice it to say that I'm in the running to be the next Anna Nicole (minus the lack of intelligence, blonde hair-dye obvious addiction to SOMETHING and penchant for weird men). The constant cramping/aching feeling, especially on my right groin side-what joy. Oh, yeah-the constant peeing and sudden lack of self control when it comes to food doesn't make friends and influence people either.
All attributed to progesterone-that lovely steroid hormone that mimics every potential pregnancy symptom and plays havoc with our bodies and fucks with our minds. It's better than eating magic mushrooms...NOT.
(Not that I know anything about magic mushrooms.....nope......I have NO idea what that feels like....never tried 'em..)
Anywhoo.....
You have all talked me down from the ledge, so thank you (especially Thalia, you walking medical dictionary, you....MWAH!!). I do realistically know that it's way too early to get a positive HPT-I mean, the one and only time I got a BFP on one of those nasty things I was around 12dp5dt, so around 17 dpo.....and the beta the next day was at 37, so......It really isn't reasonable to get anything on an HPT now, especially if FET betas tend to have lower numbers than fresh cycles. Still, it's hard not to pee on anything resembling a litmus test strip right now. And yes, I have been peeing still, and nothing yet. I know that it doesn't mean anything, but I need to be prepared, so I don't ruin my entire holiday weekend assuming I'm knocked up and then getting the emotional blow on Monday, just in time to go back to work the next day.
So, that's where I stand right now. I think that today I'm going to do a little retail therapy (although why, since I can't really fit into my clothes well, is beyond me), and tonight Sean and I are going out to dinner with friends. Then church tomorrow, and perhaps a movie.....
Then Monday-beta day.
Ergh...........this whole thing just sucks.
I am a fat, bloated mess. I two lovely zits on my face that are the size and consistency of Mt. Etna. I also have a lovely spread of acne on my chest.........my CHEST. Ugh, how gross. Let's not even go to the nasty place of swollen, sore titties; suffice it to say that I'm in the running to be the next Anna Nicole (minus the lack of intelligence, blonde hair-dye obvious addiction to SOMETHING and penchant for weird men). The constant cramping/aching feeling, especially on my right groin side-what joy. Oh, yeah-the constant peeing and sudden lack of self control when it comes to food doesn't make friends and influence people either.
All attributed to progesterone-that lovely steroid hormone that mimics every potential pregnancy symptom and plays havoc with our bodies and fucks with our minds. It's better than eating magic mushrooms...NOT.
(Not that I know anything about magic mushrooms.....nope......I have NO idea what that feels like....never tried 'em..)
Anywhoo.....
You have all talked me down from the ledge, so thank you (especially Thalia, you walking medical dictionary, you....MWAH!!). I do realistically know that it's way too early to get a positive HPT-I mean, the one and only time I got a BFP on one of those nasty things I was around 12dp5dt, so around 17 dpo.....and the beta the next day was at 37, so......It really isn't reasonable to get anything on an HPT now, especially if FET betas tend to have lower numbers than fresh cycles. Still, it's hard not to pee on anything resembling a litmus test strip right now. And yes, I have been peeing still, and nothing yet. I know that it doesn't mean anything, but I need to be prepared, so I don't ruin my entire holiday weekend assuming I'm knocked up and then getting the emotional blow on Monday, just in time to go back to work the next day.
So, that's where I stand right now. I think that today I'm going to do a little retail therapy (although why, since I can't really fit into my clothes well, is beyond me), and tonight Sean and I are going out to dinner with friends. Then church tomorrow, and perhaps a movie.....
Then Monday-beta day.
Ergh...........this whole thing just sucks.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
7dp3dt-BFN#1
Hi, my name is S, and I'm a pee-stickaholic.
I know........I KNOW. I shouldn't have done it. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help myself. It's like crack to us infertile girls. Those lovely pink and blue boxes on the shelf, calling your name. Then add in the sale price.........ARRGH!
I do realize that it's probably waaay too early to get anything to show up on an HPT, but I did it. And I'm going to test every damn day, up until Monday's beta. Because I'm just into the drama, I guess. Or, mostly because I want to be prepared, one way or the other.
Plus, I've been congested since yesterday morning, so I'm snorting and sniffling and otherwise feeling crappy, and if this really is negative then I want to make sure that I can start cold meds on Monday....
So, I've hidden the Evil Sticks of Despair in the hall closet from the lovely Sean, otherwise he would be bitching me out something fierce. I'll take another one tomorrow.
So, reassure me..........it IS too early, right? RIGHT??
I know........I KNOW. I shouldn't have done it. I didn't want to, but I couldn't help myself. It's like crack to us infertile girls. Those lovely pink and blue boxes on the shelf, calling your name. Then add in the sale price.........ARRGH!
I do realize that it's probably waaay too early to get anything to show up on an HPT, but I did it. And I'm going to test every damn day, up until Monday's beta. Because I'm just into the drama, I guess. Or, mostly because I want to be prepared, one way or the other.
Plus, I've been congested since yesterday morning, so I'm snorting and sniffling and otherwise feeling crappy, and if this really is negative then I want to make sure that I can start cold meds on Monday....
So, I've hidden the Evil Sticks of Despair in the hall closet from the lovely Sean, otherwise he would be bitching me out something fierce. I'll take another one tomorrow.
So, reassure me..........it IS too early, right? RIGHT??
Monday, February 12, 2007
4dp3dt-Aje!
Today I had to go back to work. Of course it wasn't the easiest of days, since Killer Kenny had to flip out during class and decide to crawl on tables and punch kids, but I managed to get through the day without too much stress. I refused to let it get to me.
Since we're in the middle of Black History Month, we had an assembly this morning by a group that performed African drum music and dance (actually, the members of the group were related to our Vice Principal-his sisters, brothers, mother and young nephews-and I mean young....one was three and one was about 7), which the kids loved. As part of the assembly, they explained some geography about the continent, and stressed respect for elders, and the principles of African culture.
One of those concepts was about Aje (pronounced "Ah-zhay"). It was explained to the children as a manifestation of energy that people have, and when the word is spoken out loud, it's sending that energy, and your intention, forth to do your will, and that what you want will happen for you-that's how powerful the word is. It sent a bit of a shiver down my spine when he explained its meaning.
So, curious about this, I came home this afternoon and did a Google search on it. I didn't get a whole lot, surprisingly, but I did find this, so if you're interested, read away (or, if you know any more details about it, do share). What resonated to me about this article was the discussion that aje is a state of spiritual empowerment, is inherent in women, and represents life; more specifically, reproduction. Creating life.
It really resonated with me today, for some reason. It was if someone put a hand on my shoulder and just gave it a squeeze, to reassure me. To tell me that, perhaps I will make it through this after all. That my 5 years of barreness might soon be ending. That there is hope, as long as I believe and trust.
And I, along with 500 children, sent my energy forth to the winds to make my intentions known.
Since we're in the middle of Black History Month, we had an assembly this morning by a group that performed African drum music and dance (actually, the members of the group were related to our Vice Principal-his sisters, brothers, mother and young nephews-and I mean young....one was three and one was about 7), which the kids loved. As part of the assembly, they explained some geography about the continent, and stressed respect for elders, and the principles of African culture.
One of those concepts was about Aje (pronounced "Ah-zhay"). It was explained to the children as a manifestation of energy that people have, and when the word is spoken out loud, it's sending that energy, and your intention, forth to do your will, and that what you want will happen for you-that's how powerful the word is. It sent a bit of a shiver down my spine when he explained its meaning.
So, curious about this, I came home this afternoon and did a Google search on it. I didn't get a whole lot, surprisingly, but I did find this, so if you're interested, read away (or, if you know any more details about it, do share). What resonated to me about this article was the discussion that aje is a state of spiritual empowerment, is inherent in women, and represents life; more specifically, reproduction. Creating life.
It really resonated with me today, for some reason. It was if someone put a hand on my shoulder and just gave it a squeeze, to reassure me. To tell me that, perhaps I will make it through this after all. That my 5 years of barreness might soon be ending. That there is hope, as long as I believe and trust.
And I, along with 500 children, sent my energy forth to the winds to make my intentions known.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
3dp3dt-Yet Another Example of Spousal Insanity
Last night, as we were settling in to bed, I told Sean that he had to "speak to the babies" before he fell asleep, just to remind them that they should be happily growing and enjoying their time at Camp Uterine Party. He, of course, thought that I was insane, or that perhaps it was an uncommon side effect of oral progesterone. But, after insisting that I wasn't hallucinating, he cupped his hands to his mouth, leaned over to my stomach, and said:
"HEY, yeah you in there.........you'd better be doing your thing. And you BETTER be two girls, because I want to be the only dick in this house..................GOT IT? I wanna be SURROUNDED BY PUSSY. Because it'll be the ONLY chance in my life that will ever happen. So, get on with it!"
Now, if that doesn't make them implant, I don't know what will.
And, yes......this really happened. I can't make this shit up-I'm just not that imaginative.
"HEY, yeah you in there.........you'd better be doing your thing. And you BETTER be two girls, because I want to be the only dick in this house..................GOT IT? I wanna be SURROUNDED BY PUSSY. Because it'll be the ONLY chance in my life that will ever happen. So, get on with it!"
Now, if that doesn't make them implant, I don't know what will.
And, yes......this really happened. I can't make this shit up-I'm just not that imaginative.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
2dp3dt-Groundhog Day
Did'ja ever see the movie "Groundhog Day", when Bill Murray relives the same day over and over? I kind of feel that way right now.
Sore, angry boobies? Check.
Can't seem to stay awake past 10pm? Check.
Sudden urges to rip Sean's penis off? Check.
Feeling like a fat, bloated pig? Check.
The lovely oil slick that has suddenly appeared on my skin? Check.
Yeah, it's the same old story, different cycle. However, I feel more hopeful this time around. It's probably because that this is the last of the bunch, but still............I'm starting to let that auld girl Hope in for a stay.
Thanks for the suggestions, btw-I think that tomorrow afternoon I'm going to make a run to my local bookstore and stock up on some trashy books. I've been tempted to re-read Anne Rice's The Witching Hour, but I'm still on the fence with that. And, I'm going to indulge myself with a Moose Munch Bar that's been sitting in my purse since Wednesday (I KNOW-the willpower!). I've also found a somewhat trashy series on Sundance to watch: Ladettes to Ladies. A bunch of British twenty-something "free spirits" (aka wild 'ho's) who engage in a Survivor-type contest by going to a chi-chi finishing school in order to see who can get "cultured" the quickest. The first episode featured them going to a dinner party with eligible public school types, getting drunk and screwing around with the boys. Just up my alley.
Now, if it could only fill the next 8 days or so, I'll be happy.
Sore, angry boobies? Check.
Can't seem to stay awake past 10pm? Check.
Sudden urges to rip Sean's penis off? Check.
Feeling like a fat, bloated pig? Check.
The lovely oil slick that has suddenly appeared on my skin? Check.
Yeah, it's the same old story, different cycle. However, I feel more hopeful this time around. It's probably because that this is the last of the bunch, but still............I'm starting to let that auld girl Hope in for a stay.
Thanks for the suggestions, btw-I think that tomorrow afternoon I'm going to make a run to my local bookstore and stock up on some trashy books. I've been tempted to re-read Anne Rice's The Witching Hour, but I'm still on the fence with that. And, I'm going to indulge myself with a Moose Munch Bar that's been sitting in my purse since Wednesday (I KNOW-the willpower!). I've also found a somewhat trashy series on Sundance to watch: Ladettes to Ladies. A bunch of British twenty-something "free spirits" (aka wild 'ho's) who engage in a Survivor-type contest by going to a chi-chi finishing school in order to see who can get "cultured" the quickest. The first episode featured them going to a dinner party with eligible public school types, getting drunk and screwing around with the boys. Just up my alley.
Now, if it could only fill the next 8 days or so, I'll be happy.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
The Last Great Hope
Transfer went well. We put back two, a three cell and a seven cell. They thawed all six to get those two, so that's it-the last of the bunch. If this doesn't work out, then it's back to the drawing board.
However..........they do look good, these two embryos. Sean has named them this time, Nate and Kate the Great. The RE said that the seven-cell is the best, but even the three cell is good-no fragmentation, all round, even-sized cells. So, that's that-all we can do is wait.
Now, all you out there in Bloglandia, you have a mission. Distract me until February 19th, which is scheduled to be beta day. Anything. Except weird porn. That's just not a good time.
Although, I do have some hope dwelling inside. Murphy's Law being what it is, I have a strange feeling about this transfer.......particularly that 3-celled one. I mean, we had a morula that didn't take, so you know that the least looking one of the whole batch has to be the one that takes. That, and I got my gym membership card in the mail this week. And the fact that I bought a few pair of new pants. And let's not forget the new bras that I bought.
Just hedging my bets, really. But, really.......let the uterine party get started!
However..........they do look good, these two embryos. Sean has named them this time, Nate and Kate the Great. The RE said that the seven-cell is the best, but even the three cell is good-no fragmentation, all round, even-sized cells. So, that's that-all we can do is wait.
Now, all you out there in Bloglandia, you have a mission. Distract me until February 19th, which is scheduled to be beta day. Anything. Except weird porn. That's just not a good time.
Although, I do have some hope dwelling inside. Murphy's Law being what it is, I have a strange feeling about this transfer.......particularly that 3-celled one. I mean, we had a morula that didn't take, so you know that the least looking one of the whole batch has to be the one that takes. That, and I got my gym membership card in the mail this week. And the fact that I bought a few pair of new pants. And let's not forget the new bras that I bought.
Just hedging my bets, really. But, really.......let the uterine party get started!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
God's Payback
I think that, perhaps, I've been given a sign that all is not lost. That maybe, just maybe God is smiling down on us and giving me hope.
It's karma in it's finest form.........or, at least it's God giving me a wink and saying "Hey, I got your back, babe".
Here then, is last night's conversation after Sean walked in the door:
Me: "Hey babe, how was your day?"
Him: "Not so bad..........wow, was I gassy today!"
Me (slightly nauseated and getting olfactory flashbacks): "Greeaaaaaaaaat"
Him: "Yeah, and then.........GUESS WHAT? Guess what happened next?"
Me: "Uh, did you set off the fire alarm?"
Him: "No......."
Me: "Did you asphyxiate someone and they needed to be sent to the emergency room?"
Him: "Nope, it's better than that......."
Me: "How can it get better than attempted murder?"
Him: "No, seriously............I farted and I slightly shit my pants!"
Me (gagging): "Whaa.........dude, how the fuck can you SLIGHTLY shit your pants??"
Him: "Well.........it wasn't a log or anything.......it was just a skid in my underpants......."
Me: .....................
Him: "Okay, you can stop laughing now. It's really not THAT funny."
Me: "Dude, it's God's payback for releasing the Kracken. I LOVE it!!"
Him: "Do you think it's good luck for us? Kind of like having a bird shit on you when you're walking or stepping in dog crap on the sidewalk or something?"
Me: "Well, if you think I'm rubbing your underpants on my head, you're insane"
Him: "It can't hurt, you know...."
Me: "You are SO doing the laundry this week....."
The moral of this story, kids? She who gets farted on gets the last laugh. And a free pass on doing the laundry for the rest of the week. WOOT!
**************************************************************************
Transfer is set for tomorrow-we have to be there at 12:30, and then the embryos will start the uterine party about an hour later. The final amount we transfer will depend on what they look like, and we won't know that until we get there. I'm still leaning towards two, but it's anyone's guess.
I'll be back to update tomorrow, once I'm home and burrowed safely on the couch.
It's karma in it's finest form.........or, at least it's God giving me a wink and saying "Hey, I got your back, babe".
Here then, is last night's conversation after Sean walked in the door:
Me: "Hey babe, how was your day?"
Him: "Not so bad..........wow, was I gassy today!"
Me (slightly nauseated and getting olfactory flashbacks): "Greeaaaaaaaaat"
Him: "Yeah, and then.........GUESS WHAT? Guess what happened next?"
Me: "Uh, did you set off the fire alarm?"
Him: "No......."
Me: "Did you asphyxiate someone and they needed to be sent to the emergency room?"
Him: "Nope, it's better than that......."
Me: "How can it get better than attempted murder?"
Him: "No, seriously............I farted and I slightly shit my pants!"
Me (gagging): "Whaa.........dude, how the fuck can you SLIGHTLY shit your pants??"
Him: "Well.........it wasn't a log or anything.......it was just a skid in my underpants......."
Me: .....................
Him: "Okay, you can stop laughing now. It's really not THAT funny."
Me: "Dude, it's God's payback for releasing the Kracken. I LOVE it!!"
Him: "Do you think it's good luck for us? Kind of like having a bird shit on you when you're walking or stepping in dog crap on the sidewalk or something?"
Me: "Well, if you think I'm rubbing your underpants on my head, you're insane"
Him: "It can't hurt, you know...."
Me: "You are SO doing the laundry this week....."
The moral of this story, kids? She who gets farted on gets the last laugh. And a free pass on doing the laundry for the rest of the week. WOOT!
**************************************************************************
Transfer is set for tomorrow-we have to be there at 12:30, and then the embryos will start the uterine party about an hour later. The final amount we transfer will depend on what they look like, and we won't know that until we get there. I'm still leaning towards two, but it's anyone's guess.
I'll be back to update tomorrow, once I'm home and burrowed safely on the couch.
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